A Hollyday Surprise

by Arty (still apologising to Joe Doe!)

WHAT DO YOU GIVE THE WOMAN THAT HAS EVERYTHING?

She thought back to the first time she had been brought here. Natalie had set her up, she realised later. Holly thought about that. 'I'm still not sure if I should thank her or spank her!' Holly laughed, "Probably both!"

"Now stop talking to yourself and get a move on you'll be late!" She noticed another car parked nearby, it looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. Not wanting to be late she shook herself gathered her car keys, purse and a zippered folder and got out of the car. Holly locked the car and started toward the police station.

Damn! The form! What had she done with the form?

Sighing with relief she remembered that she had put it in her folder. That reminded her. Opening the folder she removed a plastic identity bracelet, suppressing a shudder she placed it on her left wrist and snapped it closed. The bracelet was removable only with a special tool. Holly twisted it round her wrist; apart from a barcode it was plain. But this innocuous bit of plastic meant that she would now be considered an escaped prisoner, if she tried to leave the police station!

She took out the form and closed the folder. On the front of it, in gold lettering was the wording, "V.S.S.P. Holly Wood". VSSP it didn't seem much, but Holly felt ashamed each time saw those initials. "Voluntary Strip-Search Program". 'Voluntary' that was the worst part. The flimsy self-justification of coercion had been removed the instant she had ticked that innocuous box on the form she had received after her third trip to see the Sheriff.

Her thoughts drifted back to the first time. Ashley had described in detail had happened to the unknown woman. At first she had felt horrified. Then the realisation that it didn't matter how she felt about it, it was going to happen anyway. Finally the shame as she became aware that her predicament was getting her turned on. When Ashley had got to telling her about the 'panty-bags', she knew she was going to need one for her panties.

And it had happened pretty much as Ashley had said.

Holly's face flamed red as she remembered the first time that she had cum. She couldn't believe how turned on she had been, as she stood, handcuffed, watching Ashley squirming and cumming on the Sheriff's fingers. Suddenly it had been her turn. The Sheriff had still used the vibrator on her, even though by now it was obvious that she was as wet as she had ever been!

Holly flushed crimson as she relived that first orgasm and then the next two as the Sheriff performed his cavity searches. She had even had a small one as she and Ashley had washed each other, in the shower, under the ever-watchful eye of the Sheriff. She guessed that Ashley had, had one too if the shuddering and small moans were anything to go by.

The humiliating walk to the interview room had followed; carrying her clothes in the crate and not being allowed even to touch them. The 'administrative strapping' had been painful at first, but later as the sting had faded Holly couldn't believe how horny she had felt. Luckily her husband had returned before she could relieve her frustration herself and her explanation for his near-rape in the hall just inside the front door had seemed lame to her own ears, but he seemed to accept it. Then each time she relived her strip-search the love-making with her husband had been so intense and fulfilling that when the time came to report to the Sheriff for the second time she purposefully had been a couple of dollars short of the required $200.

She remembered the speculative look that the Sheriff had given her as he counted the money in her purse. Without Ashley being present the experience had been less intense but weirdly satisfying nevertheless. Her husband was once again the beneficiary of a very intense quickie that day.

After the third time when the Sheriff had counted her cash and found that she was $50 short he had smiled broadly and promised her the "Search of her life." And it had not been an idle promise. She had lost count of her orgasms after four or five and the various "infractions" that required the Sheriff to use the strap, were contrived but that had not lessened the impact and the final strokes had almost made her cum too!

The next week the waiver had arrived as it had the previous two weeks; only this time a covering letter had invited her to opt for the Voluntary Strip Search Program. The rules were simple, she would present herself twice a month were she would 'suffer' the indignities of a full strip-search, but without the requirement to be arrested or have the fiction of a misdemeanour hanging over her. The VSSP gave her the option of adding to the basic strip-search with various optional 'extras' - however once an extra had been chosen this was assumed for all subsequent searches.

Her reverie had taken her as far as the rear-door of the police station. She glanced at her watch. Good she wasn't late; it didn't do to be late. She waved the wrist with the bracelet over the card reader and the buzz of an electric door lock told her that the door was open. One of the perks of the VSSP was being able to by-pass the front desk!

Once inside she walked to the table containing a row of milk crates. With expertise born of long practise she slipped the folder into a pocket designed for the purpose. She dropped her watch, all her jewellery and her purse into the crate and headed for the only other door.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Wood, you're in good time today!"

Holly nodded at the Deputy, not trusting herself to speak. She placed the form on the desk and signed it. The Deputy took it from her and placed in a slot designed for it on the outside of the crate.

"You know the way. Enjoy yourself!"

This was the worst part; the sinking feeling in the stomach; the certain knowledge of the shame and humiliation that she would soon be suffering. And she had volunteered for it! She hated it but even now, like Pavlov's dogs, she could feel herself getting aroused.

She thought about the letter again; the hints and tips to "make her strip-search a more fulfilling experience." And wondered again how many other women were part of the program?

Her first time in the VSSP had been almost as intense as her first experience. The shame of realising that she was undergoing this experience of her own free will had added to the humiliation that she had felt. She had noticed the curtains of the Search room mirror were opened. When she had asked the Sheriff about this he had told her that all VSSP sessions were available for 'public' viewing, for a fee of course. He had said that he had to defray the costs of the program somehow: the fancy folder with the record book recording the details of each visit, the DVDs that were supplied so that she always had a visual record too. All of this cost money.

From then on she had wondered who had seen her sessions, did the speculative looks from her male co-workers mean that they knew what she looked like naked and cumming? Did the lull in the conversation at the water cooler as she passed mean they were discussing they way she cried out as the strap snapped home across her ass? Was the smile that the security guard in reception gave her an indication that he knew the way she tossed her head as she came?

As with all things familiarity had reduced the piquancy of the experience and so, over the course of the next four or five visits, Holly had ticked more of the optional extras. The Sheriff did his best of course. The last session had been very intense.

As she stood on the yellow line with her hands handcuffed behind her head, the Sheriff had circled her and recited his parody of the Miranda Warning. "You have lost the right to wear clothing. You have lost the right to cover yourself. You have lost the right to prevent yourself from cumming …" As he spoke she had been aware of the wetness spreading slowly down her thighs. She had looked at herself in the mirror and the thought that unknown men could see how aroused she was becoming made her moan in shame.

She had come almost as soon as the vibrator had touched her. Taking a small whip from the selection that hung by the examination table the Sheriff had pronounced that she was a brazen slut and that six strokes to her pussy ought to calm her down. However the gentle strokes, as intended, inflamed her further and on the sixth and final stroke she had exploded in an orgasm as strong as any she had, had before.

At this point Holly had been helpless to prevent an almost continual series of cums as the Sheriff used his skilled fingers to manipulate and ravage her pussy and ass.

The naked walk through the station to the interview room had been to a chorus of clapping and whistling almost unheard of since the VSSP had been initiated. Her legs had been dripping with the juices that the Sheriff had managed to coax from her and her musk had permeated the corridors through which she walked.

Even though it had been two weeks ago her face flamed crimson and she moaned with the memory of the final humiliation heaped on her before she had got dressed.

"Gee you can't wear these, they're soaked!" the Sheriff squeezed the panties in the plastic bag. "But if you don't wear anything your skirt will be soaked!" the Sheriff grinned evilly and reached into his pocket and withdrew a tampon. "This'll stop you from leaking." Holly had gasped in horror - even with all the liberties that she had allowed this man to take with her body - this seemed … just worse somehow. But like a robot she had taken the small cylinder from the Sheriff and groaning with embarrassment and shame she had inserted the tampon before she started to dress.

Last week she had ticked the final unchecked box on the form. Suddenly she remembered whose car she had seen in the car park. With a small smile of triumph she opened the door to the Search Room. "Hi Nat! Fancy meeting you here!"

-Fin-