Teresa Gets Busted Pt. 02
Teresa Gets Caught - Part 2
The Community Punishment
After waking up to a delicious meal, Teresa pondered on her strange experience as a prisoner. She was treated well with food and comfort, but there seemed to be an obsession with enforced orgasms and embarrassment within the facility.
It was the second day of her sentence, and she was anxious about the upcoming communal humiliation she'd have to endure. Through the window high in her cell, she observed the town bustling with activity. There was a café across the cobblestone road where people enjoyed coffee and pastries, and a fruit and vegetable vendor on the same street. This meant her embarrassment would likely be met with a large audience.
When the female guard entered, she gave Teresa instructions to put on her punishment suit and take the position. The guard returned with a small vibrator that resembled a tiny, fat penis and applied lube before inserting it into Teresa's vagina. Undoing the bottom of her suit, she was told to sit on the bed and cross her bare feet, forcing them into a position that would feel excruciating in the steel-toed heeled shoes that would later be put on her. Teresa was given heels made of dull metal, with the exception of a leather ankle strap attached to a padlock.
The male guard entered the cell with these shoes, secured her feet in, told her to walk around the room, and then instructed her to grab her own toes. Her wrists were bound together with cable-ties, causing tension in her upper legs. A leash was added around her neck.
The painful trip out of her cell began with a trek to an elevator. She thought the guards were showing mercy by not forcing her upstairs, but the green 'Exit' sign meant she could have chosen to walk the stairs.
The guard pointed out the 'B' button, which Teresa had to engage with her nose. Such a task was difficult due to her slouched position. Regardless, she suffered through the journey to the elevator, ready for whatever humiliation would come her way.
The Public Shaming
The elevator ride was short, followed by Teresa being escorted along a corridor to a large, dimly-lit room. The floor was tiled, and she noticed numerous open doorways leading to separate sections of the room. She immediately knew her punishment would be performed in front of a crowd.
She was been pulled toward a makeshift stage in the center of the room, where a spotlight shone down on a small wooden stool. She was forced to sit on the stool, her back facing the spotlight. When she was told to lean forward, she realized she would be exposed to the audience.
As the audience observed, she felt an itch in her pussy and then a vibrator being thrust into her. It traveled in and out several times, until the guard started to pepper her backside with swats from a paddle.
"The folks who love this would bring me inside near the end, jerking me off," she thought, "while they whistled."
Another stiletto boot slip onto her ankle, the guard securing it in place with a padlock. Brigadier, one of the maskeduma guards, stepped forth.
"Ready, leg spreader?" the guard asked, revealing leg-spreaders with Xs on either side.
Teresa's cunt began to throb in anticipation. Her hands were critical to balance, and she knew her feet had to be strapped in place.
"Go ahead," she said.
Spreading Teresa's legs and pushing the leg-spreader to each part of her legs, her limbs were locked in place. The guard secured several straps around her legs, ankles, hips, and other points, holding her steady in a position that accentuated her v-shape.
Teresa tilted her head up to see the crowd of people staring at her. The guards forced her to look down at a leather strap they were using to bind her hands, and she saw a red tip at the end of it.
Her stomach curdled.
The guard held the red strap next to one of the леg-spreader fastener's hooks before looping it around it, then flicked her ankle closer to her exposed privates.
"Hold still," the guard told her, "or it'll be more painful."
Teresa felt the strap press into her, immediately eliciting a moan from her. The guard made her turn her head to the side, facing the audience, who greeted her with a chorus of hisses, hoots, and whistles.
The red strap, when loosened, would tug on her nipples—it was tied to them. The guard then lifted her leg upward, attaching it to another hook. Her spread legs were held tightly closed, twisted to emphasize her vagina.
For good measure, she was doused with consecrated water from a large bucket. A silver crucifix was held against her chest. The spotlight above then illuminated it, revealing her to the crowd.
The audience's eyes goggling at her, the guards locked the leg-spreader mechanism, tightening its grip. Even her legs didn't help with balance.
"Alright," Brigadier said, "You can safely enjoy the crowd."
Her body was nailed to the stool, unable to move. Teresa could hear whispers and hushed tones from the crowd and the guards.
She was being displayed as an object for the town to gawk at.
(Will Teresa's predicament improve or devolve even further? Answers in Part 3...)```
The door creaked open after a brief descent, and the captive was led out by her neck into what seemed like the cellar of the building. Here, they were confronted by another female guard brandishing the same whip she had wielded on Teresa the night before.
Together, they slowly advanced up a gentle slope towards the bright sunlight streaming through an open loading dock door. One guard led the way, holding the leash while the other followed, using the whip on the captive's backside if she walked too sluggishly.
It was agonizing walking in the position Teresa had been placed in, and her shoes made the journey even more difficult. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead.
The torturous trek to the town stocks continued down the busy cobblestone street, visible from Teresa's cell. The group had picked up two additional male guards who led the procession through the bustling crowd of onlookers.
The sheer fatigue of walking in this awkward position made Teresa oblivious to the jeers. Most of the taunts were in English with a few foreign exclamations thrown in. The laughter didn't need a language.
The most agonizing aspect of the strenuous walk was the uncertainty of how long she would be forced to go on. By the halfway mark, the convoy halted to give the captive a drink of water. She had to remain standing as she struggled to raise her head high enough to drink from the bottle. It was during this pause that Teresa caught sight of Raymond among the lewd onlookers.
She saw him approach the two male guards and say something to them. They nodded, allowing him access to her. By this point, Teresa's hair was drenched in sweat, and there was nothing she could do to prevent the droplets falling into her eyes.
"Hanging in there?" Raymond inquired.
"You love this, don't you?" Teresa replied, her head raised to maintain contact.
Raymond then produced a towel and wiped her sweaty brow, which Teresa appreciated.
"Nice shoes," he remarked, gazing at her tiny feet in their unique confinement.
"Fuck you, Ray," she retorted.
At the guard's instructions, Raymond returned to the onlookers.
"See you at the stocks," he muttered and winked. He noticed her tormentor give him the middle finger before she was dragged forward.
As the water break approached, Teresa felt the vibration in her pussy. She figured the internal device she was forced to endure was on a timer of some kind, since she didn't feel it until now. She assumed the journey had taken longer than expected and the pulse was not meant to be activated until she was secure at the stocks.
A new thought struck Teresa: the device may be controlled manually by someone who could monitor her arousal. After several more minutes of shuffling along, she had almost cum three or four times. Each time she reached the brink, the pussy vibrations would stop; this was no coincidence.
When they entered the final thirty feet, the convoy halted, and one of the guards removed Teresa's shoes. Despite her appreciation of this action, she retained a measure of vanity and the dusty trail to her destiny would soil her manicure. She speculated that this was precisely the reason for her release from the torture shoes.
Puffs of dust rose as each deliberate step carried her closer to the imposing gallows which awaited. Spoiling her pedicure should have been the least of her concerns, but it wasn't; she was annoyed.
Roughly made, the scaffold boasted four wooden steps Teresa climbed before her cable ties were cut and removed. She used the temporary freedom to try to restore some feeling in her hands. Bound behind her back with more cable ties, Teresa was then seated on a bench. The stocks securely integrated into the stage-like structure, and a thin wooden bench faced the wooden planks that would soon hold her feet. She noticed a menacing whipping post rising through the hardwood boards of this punishment stage.
One of the male guards positioned Teresa on the bench and bound her wrists tightly behind her back. Without being instructed, she placed her ankles in the half-circles on the lower board of the stocks and watched as the upper board descended, locking her feet in place. A stout padlock secured her ankles, completing the captivity, and she discovered the holes in the stocks were designed to fit her feet perfectly.
A significant crowd had gathered around the scaffold, and Teresa spotted Raymond on her left, smiling from ear to ear. All she could do was make a face and look away. Although the leash had been removed, the collar was still securely locked around her neck. One of the guards brandished a heavy wooden sign, inscribing her name and offense in three different languages. This sign was then attached to her neck by a chain, hanging in front of her chest.
Teresa had completely forgotten the vibrator tucked inside her, until it started humming once more. She squirmed uncomfortably on the hard wooden bench - merely a two-inch beam, shaped into a half-moon for her buttocks to rest on. Her feet jiggled uselessly in her attempt to find a nicer position for her legs. As she tried, she considered who could be commanding her probable orgasm.
The female guard returned to the stage and requested silence from the spectators, so she could announce something. "Ladies and gentlemen," she started. "In front of you today, in the stocks of the town, is Miss Teresa. She was judged guilty of drunk driving yesterday, and therefore, experiences public humiliation as punishment."
A few of the crowd members booed, but most of them cheered. They all seemed to have one thing in common - their ravenous gazes, including female spectators. Teresa's eyes scanned the audience in awe at the number of women present, and more surprisingly, how many women among them bore a voracious gaze of sex yearning.
"Our lovely prisoner will also receive lashings on her naked feet," the guard continued. She brandished the whip Teresa had seen in the torture chamber and the crowd roared with delight.
"Now, the audience has the chance to give the lashings," the guard paused to calm the noise.
A group of people swiftly moved forward and formed a line at the base of the scaffold, ready to pay.
"Before I show you the proper way, let me show you how to torture the prisoner," the guard declared.
Teresa sat on her makeshift throne of wood, watching the guard remove her jacket and give it to another male guard. She knew how excruciating the whip could be; she was rattled. The humiliation she was about to endure added to her anxiety.
The guard lifted the whip and brought it swinging toward Teresa's sole. With a snap, it landed on the right foot's heel.
"Oww!" Teresa cried out. To her surprise, it didn't hurt as much as she'd expected.
A continuation of applause from the crowd.
The left foot was the next recipient of the whip's impact, the back of the heel meeting it. Teresa winced again, but upon the second blow, the vibrator resumed its buzzing. This unexpected mixture of pain and pleasure left her hornier than ever. She now feared that if this blend continued, she would inevitably climax all over the unforgiving board at the feet of the many people gathered there.
The first spectator in line was a burly, hirsute individual - a man with large arms and legs, but little definition. He reminded Teresa of a classic strongman at a travelling circus. He removed his shirt, giving a hairy expanse of back and chest on full display.
"Three lashes," the guard instructed him. She moved out of the way to observe.
The hirsute man wiped sweat off his brow before producing a parade of strength across the stage. He then marched back to Teresa with the whip in hand.
"Right foot first," Teresa whined internally as she felt his eyes and the whip on her skin.
Taking a swing, his whipping didn't strike her feet at all - much to the disappointment of the boisterous crowd.
"That's one," the guard noted, struggling to suppress a chuckle.
Another lash, intended for the other foot, arrived and hit the same spot once more, but no pain for Teresa. Unenthused by the underwhelming impact, she decided to dramatize her pain in front of the crowd.
"Show me!" the giant cried, parading around the stage as his audience encouraged and egged him on, oblivious to the manipulation the vibrator was inflicting on Teresa's sex.
Her clit was vibrated and her breathing deepened.
The next and final lash was directed toward her right foot, and he delivered it with gusto. The crowd roared, but there was no pain for Teresa. Thankfully, the vibrator was doused before Teresa could climax. She checked the side for Raimond, noticing him smirking with his hands behind his back.
The two men who whipped Teresa's bare feet after the guards were also males, neither able to inflict any damaging blows. Her act of feigning pain continued as she hoped to resist an impending orgasm, the buzzer having been reactivated.
Next, an elderly lady entered the scene, weighing merely ninety-five pounds. The female guard awaited her, ready to receive the whip. Teresa readied herself for the lash and the exaggerated suffering but was in for a different experience. The first lash stung her right sole, a burn that radiated to her brain and back.
"Ah! Fuck me!" Teresa shouted and moved her toes.
The guard had a new expression on her face, relishing the scene.
The vibrator intensified, or Teresa's sensitization increased, either way, the torture and pleasure married to make her edging toward an orgasm.
The second lash from the petite woman was equally painful, with Teresa inches from climaxing. The third lash touched her left sole, right below her toes, and she erupted with an orgasm.
Her moans, wailing, and wiggling against her restraints could have been mistaken for suffering, but the guards were well aware of the truth. They exchanged lewd grins and continued to enjoy the spectacle.
Raymond too knew that his girlfriend had had an climax, as he was tacitly responsible. He activated the remote control to shut down the buzzer and adjusted his pants to hide his erection.
Two more inexperienced whip-bearers came forward to lash the prisoner's feet.
Teresa had been restrained in the painful stocks with her hands tied behind her back for a little over an hour, and the awkward position was wearing her down. The total weight of her legs rested on her bruised ankles, digging into the rough wood. Her shoulders were stiff, her back aching due to the tight binds. Struggling to find a comfortable seat, Teresa shuffled her pelvis from one butt cheek to the other, but the pain was no longer being alleviated. She was suffering.
Only the most perverted remained to witness her anguish. Raymond was, of course, still amongst them, rousing arousal evident in his posture. Teresa glances in his direction, confirming his state. It was then she noticed a tiny remote in his hand, the connection clear.
That son of a bitch, she thought, What in the hell is going on? It was then the equation fell into place: the gourmet meals, seclusion in jail, the 'coincidental' buzzer inserted in her pussy. Unanswered questions swirled in her mind.
Teresa was nearing the completion of her time in the stocks and dreaded re-entering the jail in the same manner as before.
A commotion arose on the cobbled streets where two buff men in nothing but leather jockstraps, pulling a rustic cart emerged. They were strapped into leather harnesses, with bits in their mouths and their hands restrained. A female guard perched on the cart's back, leading it with a whip in hand.
The cart deviated off the road onto a dirt path, heading straight toward Teresa. The woman on the cart stopped, her whip raised.
"Whoa," she said.
The men were strong with broad shoulders, toned arms, legs, and posteriors. They were sweating vigorously, breathing heavily from their exertions. The guard offered water from Evian bottles to the panting men.
Teresa reasoned the men experienced the same arresting circumstances, but who had commanded this humiliating performance? The thought of joining the lewd caravan didn't quite materialize in her mind. She couldn't help noticing the pair's prominent erections straining beneath the leather straps that covered their genitals. Perhaps, she pondered, they had willingly taken on the task.
"Release the captive," the driver of the cart ordered. "Bring her here and hook her up."
Teresa's feet were freed from the stocks, but her bound hands remained.
She was led to the rear of the cart and knelt behind a tiny wooden post attached to the cart's deck. The guard clipped her collar to it, and she was tied with scratchy hemp rope to her ankles.
Teresa found herself bound to a kneeling position during her rocky journey back to the jail.
"Hey there!" the guard manning the cart shouted, slapping each of the men on their buttocks with a whip.
The cart began its sluggish progress, and they were on their way to the penitentiary.
Teresa soon recognized that this return trip would be both slow and extremely uncomfortable. She anticipated discomfort in her knees by the time they reached their destination, but at least she wouldn't have to make the journey while wearing those agonizing heels. Moreover, she had a valued view of the two appealing derrieres of the men pulling the antiquated cart.
She committed this erotic scene to memory, to be later enjoyed when she was finally able to masturbate.
To be continued...
Read also:
- Accidental voyeur Pt. 02 - Friday
- The Femme Fatale's Curse Ch. 02
- Peppermint Ch. 01: Deborah in Pain
- Peppermint Ch. 01: Deborah in Pain
Source: www.nice-escort.de
