


 
                         TEASING TERRI 

                              by

                           Joe Doe 


Part 2  

DUE TO POPULAR DEMAND, TERRI'S SAGA CONTINUES.  FOR BEST RESULTS, 
PLEASE READ "ONE QUESTION TOO MANY" AND PART 1 OF "TEASING TERRI" 
BEFORE THE CONTINUATION BELOW.  



The show had begun.

Terri swallowed and carefully took off her expensive charcoal 
jacket, trying to ignore the murmur of approval that was 
running through the crowd gathered in front of the window. 

She meticulously folded the jacket and placed it in the black 
carton.

Turning back to face the window, with trembling fingers she began 
to slowly undo the dainty buttons on her silk blouse.  It was 
difficult, since she was literally quivering with fear...and 
excitement. 

Terri often gave a rather aloof and professional "career day" 
lecture to high school seniors, and she was always amused at 
how shy the male students were when they awkwardly stammered 
for her autograph.

But the grinning teenagers in the window didn't seem nervous now.  
Their amused, appraising stares made her feel more vulnerable 
and exposed than she had ever felt in her life. 

The Sheriff said nothing, but walked over to the black carton 
and dropped something inside.  Then he returned to his previous 
position. 

She looked anxiously into the carton to see what he had put there.  

It was a small, clear plastic bag. 

She flinched, but finished unbuttoning her blouse.  She knew that 
there was no turning back now. 

		******************************
  
Terri tried not to look at the grinning bystanders as she slowly 
revealed her cleavage, one button at a time.  But, despite the 
growing sense of helpless humiliation as she slowly disrobed for 
her eager audience, Terri felt the dampness between her legs also 
growing.... 

Her arousal offered her little comfort.  She knew that the 
more excited she was, the more shameful it would be when her 
"examination" began.  The Sheriff snickered as she nervously 
glanced over her shoulder at the ominous exam table just a few 
feet away.  The steel stirrups glistened in the light, almost 
as if the table itself were teasing her. 

Terri's panties were drenched, and she imagined the rude remarks 
bystanders would make once they had been "properly bagged."  It 
would be obvious to everyone that Terri London, Pulitzer Prize 
winning investigative journalist, was just a shameless slut who 
had gotten exactly what she deserved....  

She thought her situation couldn't get any worse.  But she was 
wrong. 

As she finished unbuttoning her blouse, one of the dress store 
clerks whom Terri had snubbed earlier in the day strode 
confidently into the station with a box under her arm. 

"Well, well, well!" the salesclerk said as she looked Terri up 
and down with an amused smirk.  "What do we have here?  Has Miss 
America decided to spend some time in our tiny hick town?" she 
asked, sarcastically.  "We're honored, your majesty."   

"Miss London may be spending a lot of time with us," the Sheriff 
chortled.  

"How wonderful!" the clerk gushed.  "Just after you left the 
store, Missy, I said to myself, 'I sure hope she gets to meet the 
Sheriff.'  Of course, all the pretty young ladies visiting town 
seem to end up in the Sheriff's office sooner or later," she added 
with a knowing smile.  "It's the funniest thing." 

From the look on her face, it was obvious that Terri didn't find 
it amusing, but that didn't slow down the saleswoman.  The smiling 
clerk took Terri's hand and examined the prison shackle that was 
displayed prominently on her wrist.  "And the Sheriff even gave 
you a pretty bracelet to wear." 

The clerk toyed with the bracelet on Terri's wrist.  "You'd need a 
bomb to get this thing off," she teased.  "And we wouldn't want to 
ruin your beautiful manicure, would we?"   

She looked at Terri and smiled.  "Of course, it would look even 
better if you were wearing a matching prison uniform...." 

"Speaking of that, is that one of the new prison uniforms you've 
been promising me?" the Sheriff asked. 

The salesclerk nodded and opened the box she had brought.  "We 
tried to make it short and sassy, just the way you said.  I went 
ahead and stenciled one of the prisoner numbers your deputy gave 
me on the t-shirt, so you could see what it looks like."   She 
looked at Terri and smiled.  "Now, if you want to actually have 
a prisoner try it on, that would be even better...." 

Terri shivered as she realized the number printed in bold letters 
across the right breast of the scanty t-shirt matched the number 
on her wrist....   

The clerk took the brief half t-shirt out of the box and walked 
over to Terri.  "I know a sophisticated professional woman such as 
yourself wouldn't be caught DEAD wearing a skimpy little top like 
this, Miss London, but it will be much easier for the Sheriff to 
visualize if I hold this up against you." 

With a playful gleam in her eye, the salesclerk modeled the t-shirt 
against the mute, frozen reporter.  "The material is strong, but 
there is enough cotton in it so the lazy little sluts can work up 
a good, visible sweat.  Unfortunately the material is rather thin, 
which means that, if it gets breezy, you'll see NIPPLES!" 

Everyone chuckled -- except Terri, who blushed as she imagined her 
erect, pointy nipples poking through the thin material of the 
sleazy top.... 

The clerk put the t-shirt down and picked up a pair of denim 
shorts, once again putting them against Terri's trembling frame. 

"We cut a slit up the leg and made them quite a bit snugger around 
the fanny," the clerk explained clinically.  "And we made the rise 
just as low as we could."   

"It looks like everyone will get to see a few blades of grass on 
the front lawn," the deputy snickered, appreciatively.  Terri felt 
the blood rush to her face as the leering deputy suggestively ogled 
her crotch.... 

"That's not a problem," the Sheriff replied, nonchalantly.  "I'll 
just send the warden a note to keep the women shaved."   

The deputy snorted his approval, but Terri went white.  She just 
couldn't believe that a routine note could strip away her womanly 
fleece and leave her utterly exposed.  She grimaced.  The only 
thing worse than prancing around in a strip club naked would be 
prancing around naked and shaved.    

Terri swallowed.  Why NOT shave her?  After all, she was just 
another helpless little jailbird.  Shearing Terri her of her 
pride and dignity would be as easy as mowing the lawn....  

"The inmates are going to look mighty cute in their new little 
outfits," the grinning Sheriff said, approvingly.  "Of course, 
they sweat like pigs, so we do need to hose 'em down every now 
and then." 

"Whoopee!" the deputy guffawed.  "A wet t-shirt contest." 

"It'll be quite a show," the Sheriff predicted.  "The Bubbas'll 
come from miles around to watch the hooters jiggle and the buns 
wiggle." 

"Their new uniform skirts will be even cuter," the store clerk 
said, as she picked up a yardstick that was leaning in a corner. 
She teasingly ran the stick up Terri's leg and then slowly rubbed 
it against the luxurious fabric of Terri's expensive charcoal 
skirt.  

"There's something sexy about a lady in a skirt.  An expensive 
skirt can make a woman look so powerful, and so in control.  And 
yet, there's still something that's soft...and vulnerable."   

The clerk tapped the front of Terri's nylon-covered thighs with the 
yardstick.  "Maybe it's the possibility of an evil gust exposing 
her delicate, lacy unmentionables," she said, playfully running the 
stick up to point at Terri's crotch.  "Or maybe it's just the wind 
whistling between her legs."  The wicked yardstick worked between 
Terri's legs and tapped them open slightly, leaving the reporter 
nervous and exposed. 

"Mind, a CONVICT'S skirt wouldn't be as expensive as Miss London's.  
It would be cheap, and tight, and brazenly short...so you could 
really see the little bimbo's legs."  

"How much more leg?" the Sheriff asked, eyeing Terri's legs 
appreciatively. 

The clerk put the ruler aside and kneeled down in front of the 
anxious reporter.  Terri's stylish skirt was an inch above her 
knees, but she knew that wouldn't be enough to satisfy the 
Sheriff.... 

She watched helplessly as the smirking clerk teasingly used her 
thumbs to hook Terri's skirt and slowly roll it up, inch by 
agonizing inch.... 

"Would this be short enough, Sheriff?" the clerk asked, slyly. 

"I'd need see a lot more leg than that," he replied.  "This a 
prison farm, not a church picnic." 

The clerk slowly...slowly...slowly rolled Terri's skirt up, 
exposing more and more of her thighs.    

As Terri looked out the window she saw, to her horror, that 
seemingly every man in town was staring at her legs, 
transfixed by her gradually receding hemline.   

The clerk stopped when the hem reached the top of Terri's 
stockings.  Terri bit her lip as she saw just how much of 
her legs were exposed.   

Surely they would stop now. 

"Would this be high enough, Sheriff?" the clerk asked, playfully. 

"For an elegant, sophisticated lady, that would be way too much," 
the Sheriff said, eyeing Terri's legs appreciatively.  "But 
remember, these prison sluts are trash.  The little bimbos SHOULD 
be humiliated...it's part of their punishment.” 

The clerk eyed the deputy, who seemed mesmerized by the sight of 
Terri's stocking-covered legs.  "Deputy, would you like to do the 
honors?" 

He didn't have to be asked twice.  Eagerly kneeling down, he took 
the clerk's place. 

Terri gasped as the lascivious deputy enthusiastically began to 
raise her skirt.   

"Take your time, deputy," the clerk counseled.  "Exposing a 
beautiful woman is a process to be enjoyed...savored." 

The deputy slowed down, but soon Terri's garter clips and lacy pink 
garter straps were in view.  "Whoopee!" he said.  "She's wearin' a 
pink garter belt...just like one of them hootchie-choochie girls." 

"I think a young lady should be commended when she wears pretty, 
lacy underthings," the clerk noted.  "It shows that she cares 
about her appearance...and her audience."   

She glanced at the large crowd of anxious men in the window and 
smiled slyly at Terri.  "And sometimes a foolish young lady can 
end up with a rather LARGE audience...." 

"Should we stop here, Sheriff?" she asked again.  "I mean, even 
a jailhouse bimbo wouldn't prance around with her garter belt 
showing.  A helpless, powerless convict would have to be careful 
about teasing men into a frenzy."  She looked at the men in the 
window and then back at the furiously blushing Terri.  "Especially 
if she could end up totally at their mercy....” 

Terri clenched her teeth; the cruel salesgirl was clearly referring 
to tonight's "party."  Terri winced as she imagined servicing the 
very men now chuckling over her slow, agonizing strip tease.  

"We've come this far, we might as well see just a bit more, the 
Sheriff answered.  "Take up the skirt another notch, deputy."   

Terri looked down, aghast, as the grinning deputy slowly inched 
her skirt up, stopping just after the crotch of her panties came 
into view. 

The panties were soft, pink, delicate, and lacy...an elegant and 
feminine accessory for a wealthy and sophisticated lady. 

But the most intriguing part of the dainty display was the 
shamefully dark stain on the front of Terri's panties. 

It was obviously to everyone that Terri's ladylike panties were 
soaked with her juices. 

Terri felt her face go beet red as the deputy took a deep whiff 
and savored her musky scent.    

Even through the glass, Terri could hear the crowd's wolf 
whistles and the lip-smacking comments: 

"Gol-lee, look at how wet she is!"   

"Somebody get me a squeegee!" 

"Or get her a diaper!" 

"It looks like our dainty little princess ain't so innocent after 
all." 

"Yup...time to shuck her out of those fancy duds and put her to 
work at the truck stop, where she belongs."    

"Yeah, that little filly is just begging for long, hard a ride." 

"Do you think he'll bag her panties?" 

"Are you kidding?  He'll need to put galoshes on just to touch 
'em." 

"My-oh-my!" the clerk teased.  "It does look like someone had a 
little accident."   

"Pink really stains, doesn't it?" she observed, shaking her head 
sadly like a perverted Martha Stewart.    

She reached into the black carton and picked up the clear plastic 
bag that would soon be holding Terri's wet panties.  "It's a good 
thing we have this baggie to keep your expensive clothes from 
getting stained.  We wouldn't want a sophisticated, professional 
woman's expensive suit smelling like a bitch in heat whizzed on 
it, now would we?" 

"Do we have a dew warning today?" the clerk asked as she playfully 
held up the transparent bag.  "Or is it going to be a gully-washer?  
These little bags make lovely display cases for the front window, 
don't they?"  She once again adopted her happy homemaker persona.  
"People chatter and gossip for weeks about the randy little bimbos 
the Sheriff processes through here, particularly when there is a 
darling little 'panty bag' in the window to remind them." 

The vengeful clerk laughed, put the bag down, and moved over to 
the exam table situated directly in front of the window.  She 
playfully ran her finger over the cold steel stirrups and chuckled 
softly as Terri instinctively clenched her thighs shut.   

The clerk toyed a moment with the stirrup and then feigned surprise 
as she "noticed" the window directly in the front of the exam 
table.  "My goodness, Sheriff, you really ought to get some 
curtains," she said, with mock surprise.  "How can you expect a 
delicate, refined LAY-DEE to spread her legs with all those men 
standing just a few feet away?" 

She looked thoughtful.

"Although...I guess we aren't talking about ladies, are we?  We're 
discussing shameless, disgusting sluts who just pretend to be 
ladies."  

She chuckled and patted the table.  "Of course, they can't maintain 
their phony pretenses on the exam table, can they?"  She glared at 
the fidgeting reporter.  "Once the little liar puts her feet into 
these stirrups, the whole world will know what a sloppy, disgusting 
slut she really is."  

She smirked at Terri. 

"These men know that you USED to be a refined and elegant 
professional woman.  Can you imagine how humiliating it will 
be to have to face those men later at the strip club or, even 
worse, at the truck stop, after they've seen you on the table?" 
she asked, rhetorically.  "Can you imagine the sly smirks and 
knowing smiles on their faces when they see you again?  Can you 
imagine the way they'll ogle you when you're dancing for them?  
Imagine the twinkle in their eyes when they climb on top of you?"   

"You can let her skirt down now, deputy," the Sheriff said.  
"Everyone's seen what they needed to see." 

"You know, Terri is friends with that fancy pants lawyer, Ashley," 
the Sheriff said to the clerk.  "Didn't you make a costume up for 
her?" 

"I most certainly did!" the clerk gushed.  "I put her in the cutest 
cheerleader outfit ever.  She blushed pretty hard the first time 
she put it on; I don't think our little legal lady was used to 
showing so much skin in public.  But she looked cute as a button, 
prancing around on stage, wiggling her butt, and shaking her little 
pom-poms." 

"Since she's such good friends with Terri, I was thinking of 
putting them up on stage together," the Sheriff said, as Terri 
looked up at him in horror.  "I figured they could put on quite 
a show...together."

"That would be just delightful," the clerk said, clapping her 
hands.  "A lot of guys love that whole lezzy thing.  My boyfriend 
went on and on about watching a couple of the girls down at the 
club French-kissing each other up on stage. 

"Personally, I think it's kind of gross," she went on, scrunching 
up her face in disgust.  "But the guys sure keep the lesbos busy 
after the show."  

She gave Terri a playful little wink.  "I guess it makes them feel 
macho to bend the little dykes over and show them what a 'real 
man' can do." 

The clerk paused and, once again, looked Terri up and down.  "I 
could make Terri a school uniform.  We'd put her hair in pigtails.  
Just imagine her tiny little uniform skirt flying up when she 
skips across the stage." 

"The guys would really LOVE to see THAT!" the deputy said, with 
gusto. 

"I bet her girlfriend Ashley would love to see her dressed up that 
way, too," the Sheriff added.  "Our little cheerleader and our 
brand new schoolgirl will have a good time up on stage...getting 
to know each other."   

"How disgusting!" the clerk said.  "I don't know how women can 
do that.  It is so GROSS!"   

"But I'm not a lesbian!" Terri pleaded.  "Ashley and I are 
professional colleagues....  I respect her intellect, and 
value her as a person...." 

"Now, Terri, there's nothing to be ashamed of," the clerk said.  
"I think it's sweet that you have a girlfriend.  I'm sure you two 
will put on a wonderful show."  The clerk punctuated her remark 
by opening her mouth, fluttering her tongue, and bursting into 
laughter.                                   

"Once those big bull dykes at the prison find out she's sweet, her 
dance card'll be filled every night," the deputy added.   

"Is that right, Miss London?" the clerk asked, feigning surprise.  
"Are they going to put a sweet, innocent little honey like you in 
that nasty old PRISON?  Well, whatever for?" 

"A broken tail-light on her car," the Sheriff said. 

"Oh, isn't that too bad.  Imagine being stripped bare naked in 
front of all those horny teenagers because of a broken tail-light."  
The saleswoman shook her head sadly.  "It just doesn't seem fair." 

She looked at Terri pensively.  "You know that the Sheriff does 
owe me a favor, for creating those new uniforms for him.  I'm 
sure I could talk him into letting you go." 

"Let me go?" Terri said, surprised.  She looked at the grinning 
store clerk with pleading eyes.  "You would do that for me?  Oh, 
yes, please!  You have to help me!  Please don't let him strip me!  
I'm sorry I was rude to you!  I don't want to strip in front of the 
window!  I don't want to dance at the club!  And I definitely don't 
want to-to...perform...not with Ashley!  Anything but that!" 

The mention of her upcoming performance with her friend caused 
Terri to blush, bite her lip, and stare at the floor.  In fact, 
Terri and Ashley had been working together to incriminate the 
Sheriff.  Terri knew he would be highly amused to watch the two 
professional women performing a perverted lesbian stage show in 
his sleazy club.  The Sheriff's vengeance would be complete.... 

"I don't know, Terri," the clerk said.  "You were really VERY 
discourteous.  How do I know you've truly learned your lesson?" 

"Please, you have to believe me -- I'll do anything!"  

"If you want to see her do ANYTHING, wait until we get her behind 
bars," the deputy snickered. 

The clerk shook her head sadly.  "You do SEEM sorry, Terri, and 
ordinarily I would stay and work out the details of your release 
with the Sheriff.  But I had an irate customer complain about our 
shoddy merchandise today, and I really should take inventory right 
away." 

"That was me!" Terri said, desperately.  "I didn't mean it.  I'm 
sorry I insulted you." 

"Now, Terri, the customer is always right," the clerk patronized. 

Terri looked at the cruel clerk with disbelief.  Once again, her 
freedom was dangled tantalizingly just out of her reach...and then 
jerked away.   

She was dancing like a puppet on a string. 

"You know, Sheriff, I think Terri is just about my size," the 
clerk observed, as she looked Terri up and down appraisingly.  
"But I sure don't have any clothes as expensive as what she's 
wearing.  Do you suppose it would be all right if I borrowed 
her fancy suit for a few days while she serves her sentence?" 

"Oh, you can have them longer than that," the Sheriff said, 
pleasantly.  "I'll take her cute little sports car, and you 
can have her clothes.  She won't need fancy frillies to pick 
up trash by the highway...or whore out at the truck stop." 

"No, I imagine her ‘uniform' at the truck stop will be quite a 
bit more revealing.  After all, the customers need to see the 
merchandise.  And, Sheriff, if you need any help getting Terri 
tricked out, just let me know," the clerk added, once again 
running her eyes appraisingly over Terri's body.  "Ihave some 
clothes that will make our little princess really feel the part." 

She picked up Terri's jacket and folded it over her arm, carefully 
brushing the soft wool.  "But don't worry, Terri.  I'll be sure to 
wear your beautiful business suit when I bring your tube top, boots, 
cowboy hat, and micro-mini down to the truck stop.  I wouldn't want 
you to forget how a LADY dresses." 

The clerk turned back to the Sheriff.  "I need a convict to work at 
our store, Sheriff.  We need someone to dig a new sewer line, and 
scrub the floors, and haul the old washer and dryer out of the 
basement.  Of course, I'd want the guard to bring the razor strap 
along too, so I can tan the lazy bimbo's bare backside if she 
sasses me." 

The vengeful clerk looked at Terri and smiled.  "A week at our 
store would be a good way for some spoiled, lazy criminal to work 
up a good sweat and pay her debt to society." 

She beamed as the Sheriff casually bartered ownership of the 
speechless Terri.  The clerk quickly decided to up the ante.  
"Before we put the convict to work, we should trim her hair, 
Sheriff," she said, jealously eyeing Terri's beautiful locks. 
She smiled maliciously and winked at Terri, and then mimicked 
a scissors action with her first two fingers.  

"And a crew cut would be so BUTCH," she added. 

Terry gasped, and her hands immediately flew to cover her head.  
As she stood speechless, a voice cried out in her head, "Not my 
hair!  Please Sheriff -- DON'T LET HER TAKE MY HAIR!" 

"I'll tell the guards to buzz her before they send her," the 
Sheriff replied, casually ignoring the wild look in Terri's eyes.  
"True, making her a 'chrome dome' will finish her at the truck 
stop, which means hard labor.  It's just as well; the lazy slut 
shouldn't spend her entire sentence flat on her back.  Our 
pampered princess needs to learn how to WORK for a living...." 

The deputy grinned.  "A lot of the 'tomboys' at the prison prefer 
girls who look like boys, and a few of the guards do, too."   

The clerk's revenge was interrupted by a phone call the Sheriff 
immediately placed on speakerphone. 

"Well, are you going to search that young whippersnapper or not, 
Sheriff?" an elderly male voice asked.  "It's time to peel that 
brat down bare naked.  She'll lose some of her ginger when you 
put her frisky feet into the stirrups."  

Terri looked out the window and realized that the phone call was 
from an old man in the front row with a cell phone.  "I say it's 
high time to strip the sassy little pop tart naked as a newborn," 
the old man cackled.  "Start up the music, boys, and make the 
little strumpet DANCE." 

Terri flinched as she envisioned herself slowly lowering her 
delicate pink panties in front of the dirty old man.  In his 
cruel eyes, she saw an old geezer relishing his chance to teach 
a "wet-behind-the-ears" brat a lesson in humility.... 

The Sheriff playfully held up the clear plastic bag that would 
soon hold Terri's soaking wet panties and dangled it in the air.  
"It's time to start the show, Terri," he said, impishly. 

Terri shuddered as she imagined pedestrians casually snickering 
at the shameful evidence of her arousal.  The bagged panties 
would make the respected journalist look like a frisky bitch in 
heat.... 

"I think I'll drop by the bookstore, Sheriff, and pick up a copy 
of Miss London's latest book for the front window," the clerk said.  
"The dramatic cover photo will be a wonderful contrast next to her 
soggy, stinky underpants."  

"That's an excellent idea," the Sheriff said, chuckling at the 
image.  "And I'll bring her by the dress store once I get her 
changed, so you can see what the new uniform looks like." 

Terri blanched at the thought.  The last time she had walked into 
the dress store she had felt like royalty visiting the peasants.  
Now she would be paraded in front of the two hateful clerks wearing 
nothing but the scanty prison uniform they had designed especially 
to humiliate her.   

She felt queasy as she imagined herself stumbling around the store 
in shackles while the two catty clerks snickered and gloated over 
her humiliating fall from grace. 

"I'll keep the shears handy, in case we need to cut her t-shirt 
shorter," the clerk added as she headed for the door.  "We don't 
want to waste material on some sleazy prison tart." 

Terri watched the clerk scurry out the door towards the bookstore.  
Although she felt relieved that the bitchy clerk was gone, she 
realized that now her "processing" would resume.... 

She felt an unspeakable sense of dread as she watched the smiling 
deputy pick up an oily rag and lovingly buff the glistening chrome 
stirrups.  They twinkled menacingly in the light as they awaited 
her helpless bare feet.... 

Once again, the Sheriff playfully dangled the dreaded plastic bag 
in the air.  "Now be a good girl and stand in front of the window, 
Terri," he said, patronizingly.  "It's SHOWTIME!" 

As Terri approached, the old fogies in the lawn chairs immediately 
burst into large, toothless grins.  The dirty old men could tell 
by the look on her anxious face that the sassy snippet was about 
to learn respect for her elders, and they had front row seats. 

The younger audience members increased Terri's sense of dread.  
She could tell by the bulges in their jeans that each of the 
18-year-old studs was already imagining what it would be like 
to see Terri drop her panties, mount the exam table, dance at 
the club...and service them however they pleased. 

Instantly the commotion in the window stopped as all eyes focused 
on Terri.  She slowly backed up until she was next to the hateful 
black box that would soon hold her clothing, her identity, and her 
dignity. 

She reluctantly unbuttoned her blouse and awkwardly slipped the 
garment over her shoulders.  She tried to ignore the smiling men 
standing just a few feet in front of her as she carefully folded 
the expensive garment and surrendered it to the box. 

The show had begun....



Edited by C. Lakewood
 
