THE PRANK
OR
"The Night I Foolishly Lowered My Guard"

This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over
the age of eighteen years

Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris): 31 December, 2011 - 1
January, 2012
An archive of my stories can be found at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

"The characters and ideas in this story are the writers and
shouldn't be used without permission. Please, respect the
integrity of the story and don't rewrite."

New Year's Day, 2012:

"Joshua Macklin, I find you guilty of reckless driving while
under the influence of alcohol and impose upon you the maximum
fine of $750. I hope this serves as a warning to you to change
your ways. If you should ever find yourself standing before me
charged with a similar offence, then rest assured that I won't
treat you so leniently next time."

The judge's words are solemn as he delivers his stern warning to
my friend, Josh, who stands at my side in the dock. Josh heaves a
great sigh of relief and smiles towards his parents sitting
alongside mine in the body of the court. It's true that he has
been fined $750 and this is a large sum for a student soon to
start his first year at university.

Josh knows that his father will pay the fine - his father is well
used to clearing up after his teenaged pranks and other
misdemeanours - but he also knows he'll have his ass chewed and
made to repay the fine. This will of course impose some hardship
on Josh, but as in the past, he'll survive and really he is
getting off lightly. The magistrate could just as easily have
given him a custodial sentence.

The lightness of Josh's sentence heartens me. I fully expect that
I too will be treated as leniently and fined the maximum amount
allowable for the charge against me. My offence differs in that I
wasn't driving Josh's father's car and was just his passenger.

                                                  
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

New Year's Eve, 2011:

Last night was New Year's Eve and Josh and I had joined with some
of our friends in celebrating the end of 2011 and welcoming in
2012. It could be said that we celebrated too well. We were both
inebriated!

Eventually, in the early hours of the New Year, Josh and I took
out leave of our friends and drove home. I'm not sure why he did
so, but Josh decided to take the long route home and we drove
through the city centre. Perhaps he wanted to see the crowds
still celebrating the arrival of 2012. I was tired and really
wanted to get to bed and sleep off my drunkenness. But Josh was
the driver and I was dependent on him to get me home.

Whatever, the reason, we joined in the slow moving convoy of cars
aimlessly driving around with horns blaring and with their
passengers hanging out the windows boisterously shouting to the
good-natured crowds celebrating on the pavements.

It is very true that alcohol loosens our tongues and takes away
our inhibitions. And to add to that it also dulls our good
judgement and allows us to do foolish things we'd normally never
consider. And so it was with me.

Foolishly, I responded to Josh's dare to indulge in `mooning'.
Although I was reluctant at first, I finally gave way to Josh's
persuasive taunting of me being `chicken shit afraid': I lowered
by trousers and hung my bare ass out through the car window for
all to see. I should have known better and this was really `out
of character' for me.  But Josh's loud guffawing and the
good-natured shouts of the onlookers made me even bolder. I tried
to expose more of my buttocks and responded to the cheers and
jeers by provocatively wriggling my ass in a cheeky greeting to
the New Year.

In my drunken stupor, I'm not sure for how long I `mooned' but I
am aware that we'd twice circled through the city's centre and
had just begun our third circuit when we were pulled over by an
unmarked, police patrol car. Josh was ordered to pull over to the
kerb and covered in embarrassment; I hastily tried to pull up my
trousers. Quite literally, I'd been caught with my pants down.

We were ordered out of the car, breathalysed and found to be well
over the legal limit. This was a problem for Josh more so than
for me as he the one was driving. I was merely the passenger and
I remember guiltily feeling relieved that he was the one in
trouble and not me. How wrong I was!

After the officers had dealt with Josh and charged him with
`reckless driving whilst under the influence of alcohol', we were
ordered to move into the full glare of the patrol car's
headlights and told to drop our pants and to remove our
underdaks. Sheepishly, we did as we were told and tried to cover
our nakedness by placing our hands over our genitals.

Confused, we waited as one of the officers produced a picture
which he showed to us and asked.

"Whose ass is this? Whose ass is in this picture? Turn around so
we can check which of you two fuckers had his ass hanging out the
window."

Suddenly, I became apprehensive. The seriousness of my `mooning'
prank finally hit home. Could these officers be members of the
Morality Squad who patrol the streets looking out for breaches of
our new Morality Laws?

In recent years, our society has moved further to the right under
the influence of religious fanatics intent on imposing their
narrow beliefs and extreme views on the general population. That
they have been successful in doing this is due to the fear they
engender in people. To oppose them or simply to speak out against
them is fraught with danger. Those foolish enough to do so
usually end up in court charged with the heinous crime of
blasphemy or some other spurious, religiously concocted charge.

Under their influence our police departments now have liberally
funded Morality Squads freely charged with the task of ridding
our society of `vileness and filth'. These squads patrol our city
streets nightly seeking out all wrong-doers.

The Morality Squad has been spectacularly successful in driving
all vices out of public view and underground where they still
flourish despite the best efforts of the so called guardians of
public morals. That these `vices' do still clandestinely exist is
an illustration that human nature is enduring and remains the
same even under persecution.

However, this does allow these bigots to loudly boast that they
have rid our society of `prostitutes and faggots' who no longer
infest our streets and corrupt `decent folk' with their foul
practices.

Nervously, I asked myself if I had I run afoul of the Morality
Squad. Josh and I were ordered to lean forward and place our
hands on the bonnet of the police car. This placed our upper
bodies at an angle and positioned our asses for close, hands-on
inspections. Humiliatingly, the younger officer pushed my shirt
higher up my back onto my shoulders and my near nudity made me
feel very vulnerable.

I felt hands roaming over my ass and foolishly, I turned my head
to see what was happening. My ass was slapped and I was ordered
to.

"Face the front, pervert!"

Now, I was very afraid. The young officer had called me a
`pervert'. This didn't auger well for me. Trembling, I listened
as the two police officers talked.

"Hey, Rolly." The voice was that of the young officer. "Trying to
match the picture to one of these asses is a bit like playing one
of those a mix and match picture card games I played as a kid."

"OK, Mark! Well then, have you worked out which of these two
young fuckers owns the ass in the picture?'

"Not yet! They both look the fricking same to me. I guess an ass
is an ass after all and there's not a lot of difference between
them."

"I'm not sure I'd agree with that! Since I've been with the squad
I've seen a lot of ass and believe me it isn't always pretty. But
these two boys have some of the nicest ass I've seen. Both have
cute, bubble-butted asses - real eye candy. Give me the picture
and I'll see if I match it to one of these boys."

"Rolly, why don't we just ask them whose ass it is and get the
guilty one to own up?"

The young officer's question made sense. Despite my fear, I just
wanted to bring an end to Josh's and my very public
embarrassment. While all this was taking place, we'd been
subjected to the ridicule of late night revellers making their
way home. I lost count of how many passing cars had slowed down
and honked their horns in derision of us. Through my confusion I
heard their ribald comments and coarse laughter and I wanted to
end it. And so I confessed.

"Officer, it's me! I'm sorry it was all meant as a lark. I didn't
mean any harm."

The officer called Rolly was obviously the more senior of the two
patrolmen and he was the one who asked me.

"What's your name boy?"

"Driscoll, Sir! Matthew Driscoll!"

"Well Matthew Driscoll, you might have meant it as a lark but you
are in serious breach of the law. I'm charging you with lewd and
obscene behaviour in a public place. Do you understand what I'm
saying to you?"

Now I'm scared shitless! I am being charged under the new
Morality Laws. I lose my composure and as tears well up in my
eyes, I begin to plead with Rolly.

"Please Sir! I didn't mean any harm. Please Sir; it was a spur of
the moment thing. I promise never to do it again if you'll let me
go with a warning."

My pleas fall on deaf ears and are ignored. Josh and I are
ordered to dress and then the younger officer handcuffs us
together and we are placed in the back seat of the patrol car and
driven to the central police station.

After that everything is a blur. I'm vaguely aware of Josh and I
standing before a duty sergeant who charged us with our offences
and told us we were to be held in custody overnight and would
appear at a court sitting tomorrow morning. The sitting was to be
a special `out-of-session' one made necessary to deal with the
large number of arrests made among the drunken New Year's Eve
revellers.

Before we were taken down to the holding cells, the duty sergeant
told us he'd phone our parents and tell them of our arrest and
that we were to appear in court tomorrow morning - New Year's
Day.

At the mention of my parents, my sense of shame overwhelmed me
and I began to weep for the hurt I'd brought to them. They
deserved better from their only son.

Josh and I were placed in an overcrowded cell where we spent
arguably the most miserable night of our entire eighteen years of
life. We retreated to a far corner away from the seething mass of
drunken humanity with whom we shared our cell.  As best as we
could we ignored the shouting and the abuse of our fellow inmates
and tried unsuccessfully not to notice the stench of urine and
vomit that coated the floor.

Huddled together in our misery, our middle-class values were
seriously challenged by all that we saw around us. Neither of us
slept; nor did we talk. We waited in silent trepidation for our
court appearances in a few hours' time.

For my part, I decided to apologise most profusely for my
misdemeanour and to throw myself upon the mercy of the court. My
remorse was genuine and I just wanted to make amends to all
concerned but especially to my parents.

                                          
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

New Year's Day, 2012:

As I face the judge, I am heartened by the `leniency' he'd shown
to Josh. I fully expect to be fined and sternly rebuked by the
judge and then released back to my parents who watch anxiously
from the public gallery of the court-room.

All I want is to put my foolish New Year prank behind me and to
move on from here - much chastened by infinitely wiser.

"Matthew Driscoll!"

The judge peers at me over the top of his glasses as he loudly
calls out my name to gain my attention.

"Matthew Driscoll.  It pains me to see a young man of your
standing appearing before me charged with such a serious breach
of public order."

Suddenly, the judge's words and the way he delivers them warn me
that all is not going well for me. I feel a chill sweep over my
body and I begin to tremble. My knees sag and I feel that I am
about to collapse. Desperately, I grab hold of the dock rail and
hold on with white knuckled determination.

"You stand in the dock with your friend Joshua Macklin and both
of you have been charged with two most serious offences. I have
already delivered my judgement of the defendant, Joshua Macklin
and believe me when I say that I derived no pleasure from doing
so. His offence was of such a nature that required a harsh
penalty. And your offence is no less so. In fact, you are guilty
of the type of reprehensible behaviour that can't be tolerated in
our society and left unpunished. Quite deliberately, you chose to
act in a lewd and obscene manner in that you bared your buttocks
in a public place. What prompted you to act so foolishly is
immaterial. Whether it was alcohol-fuelled or simply a response
to a stupid challenge doesn't concern me. What matters is that
you did so. Our society demands modesty from its citizens. It
requires that young men remain chaste and its young women stay
virtuous. The exposure of so intimate a part of your body flouts
these most basic tenets of our community's standards, Therefore,
I find you guilty of the most vile and lascivious behaviour. But
before I pass judgment on you, I must be absolutely certain of
your guilt.  You will therefore remove yourself from the dock and
stand before me facing the public gallery. There, you will remove
all your clothing and present your back to me so that I can judge
beyond a shadow of a doubt that the buttocks in the picture
presented to this court do in fact, match your own. STEP DOWN!"

Even though the judge's words don't immediately register with me,
I hear the audible gasp of surprise from the spectators and I
hear a strangled sob - I think from my mother. But in my dazed
state I can't be sure that it came from her.

Uncomprehending, I stand in the dock and hear the judge's
instruction to his bailiff.

"Bailiff! Remove the defendant from the dock and if necessary
help him disrobe."

I offer no resistance as the bailiff takes hold of me and leads
me from the dock to a spot immediately in front of the judge's
bench. He places his hands on my shoulders and turns me so that I
am facing towards the public with my back to the judge.

I see my parents' anguish as my father enfolds my mother in an
embrace of support and once more my tears flow for them. I have
brought so much shame and pain to them and the knowledge that I,
their only child, could do this to them wounds me deeply.

By comparison, I see the relieved expressions on the faces of Mr
and Mrs Macklin that their son has been treated leniently. And is
it my imagination but have they moved apart from my parents in an
attempt to distance them from what is to follow? Is their
friendship that fickle?

The atmosphere is electric in anticipation of my very public
humiliation. Bewildered - and unbelieving - I stand motionless
and I don't see the bailiff looking up to the judge for guidance.
Nor do I see the judge nod his head but I am aware of the bailiff
grabbing hold of my shirt and roughly pulling it up over my head
exposing my naked, upper body to view. Quietly and efficiently he
unbuttons my trousers and allows them to fall in a crumpled heap
around my ankles. Then, in one swift movement he tugs my
underpants down over my legs to join my trousers at my ankles.

My re-action is immediate and involuntary. Modestly, I cup my
cock and balls in my hands in an attempt to cover my nakedness.

But the judge isn't finished with me and he orders me to step out
of my crumpled trousers and underpants. When I have done so, he
instructs the bailiff to take charge of my wrist watch and any
other personal items. I wait as my watch - a present from my
parents on my very recent eighteenth birthday -is removed from my
wrist and placed with my clothing now nicely folded and in a neat
heap on the bailiff's table.

Next, the judge tells to remove my shoes and socks - the only
items of clothing I'm still wearing. To do so means I must
uncover myself and use my hands. Quickly, I work out how best to
do this. If I bend at the waist then my ass is on full view to
the judge and even that most private and intimate part of my body
will be opened to his gaze.  But if I squat, I can maintain a
small degree of dignity. True my ass will still be on show - but
less so than if I bend at the waist - and my upper body, bent
forward as I untie and remove my shoes and socks, will partly
obscure my genitals. I go with the second option.

It is ironic; last night, I had no sense of modesty as I bared my
all out of the car window. This morning, I am very conscious of
my public nakedness and my shame scorches my body and reddens my
face. Within seconds, I am as naked as the day I was born.

The bailiff orders me to my feet and once more I'm made to face
the public. Shamefaced, I once more use my cupped hands to cover
my cock and balls; as I do so I see my parents avert their eyes
from my direction. I know they do this out of their love for me
and to save me embarrassment. The same can't be said of the other
spectators. I hear their scornful sniggering as the crane forward
for a better look at me.

"Stand up straight with your feet together and place your hands
on top of your head."

The tone of the judge's words leave me in no doubt that I must
obey. Hastily, I assume the position he demanded of me and wait.

Time hangs ominously over me as I wait on the judge. With my back
to him, I can't see what he's doing. If I could do so, I would
see that alternatively he studies the photo used as evidence
against me before peering intently over the top of his rimless
glasses at my naked back. He is taking his time and the court
waits on him with baited breath. Suddenly, the uncertainty gets
the better of me and I begin to tremble. My body is chilled by a
cold sweat and my bladder and bowels turn to water. My need to
piss overwhelms me and I fight the desire to do so with every
fibre of my being. I won't disgrace myself or my parents.

Silence reigns in the courtroom and in the background I hear the
loud ticking of a clock counting out the seconds and minutes as
we wait on the judge. To my fevered mind each tick is laden with
doom. What is to happen to me? Desperately, I hope for the
court's mercy.

Surely, the judge has punished me enough by publicly humiliating
me in his court. Hopefully, he did this as a salutary lesson to
me - and if that was his intention - then he has been successful.
My remorse is boundless. Perhaps he'll impose a heavy fine just
as he did with Josh and let me leave the court with my parents.

Suddenly, the judge is ready to give his findings and his words
are delivered with magisterial precision.

"In my mind, there is no doubt whatsoever that the subject matter
in the photograph tendered by the prosecuting police officer as
evidence is a true portrayal of the defendant, Matthew Driscoll.
Therefore, I find the prosecution's case proved and I find the
defendant guilty."

The judge calls for silence as the courtroom erupts into a buzz
of conversation. Once order has been restored he turns his
attention to my friend Josh.

"Joshua Macklin, I dismiss and you are free to leave the court."

Josh moves quickly out of the dock and into the care of his
waiting parents. Without a backward glance Josh and his parents
hurry from the courtroom. Suddenly, without Josh's presence, I
feel very alone and vulnerable.

"Matthew Driscoll, you have been found guilty of violating a Law
of Morality. Do you have anything to say before I pass sentence
on you?"

What can I say other that I regret my actions and apologise for
them.

"Your Honour! I'm truly sorry for my offensive actions. I really
am sorry and I apologise to you, this court, and the officers who
arrested me and to the community at large. I apologise to my
parents who I have let down very badly." I turn to face my
parents and tearfully tell them. "I'm sorry Dad! I'm so sorry
Mom! Please forgive me? I have learned my lesson and I will
never; never do anything like this again. I promise."

"Your remorse does you credit, young man and I don't doubt that
you are sorry for your foolish escapade. But that doesn't in
anyway mitigate your guilt. You knew the laws concerning immoral
behaviour. Yet, you deliberately chose to ignore those rules and
flout convention. You are a corrupting influence in our godly
society and in that society there is no place for you. I am about
to remove you from the society that you held in contempt and
deliver you to a place where perhaps you can consider your
foolishness and contribute something back to the society whose
laws you so flagrantly disregarded. And you are right when you
say that you will never repeat them. The sentence I am about to
give you will ensure that you will never do so. It is the maximum
that the law allows for your crime. It is harsh - but necessarily
so - and it gives me no pleasure in applying it to you. But the
law is there to protect the innocent and punish the guilty. I
have adjudged you guilty and so I must punish you to the fullest
extent of the law."

My heart sinks and I know that I am in trouble. I just know the
judge is to send me to prison. There is no doubt in my mind that
I am to serve a custodial sentence. The question is for what
duration. Will it be three months or six months? I must now wait
for the judge to tell me.

"Your Honour! May I speak?"

"And you are?"

"Driscoll, Your Honour! William Driscoll. I am Matthew's father
and I ask that you let me speak on his behalf."

"Usually, I don't allow such interruptions to my court's
proceedings. But in this instance I'm inclined to let you speak.
After all, I am a father of three teenaged boys and my sympathies
are with you Mr Driscoll. Although, I should warn you, I'm not of
a mind to be persuaded from my findings. But courtesy dictates
that I at least listen to what you have to say."

"Thank you, Your Honour! Matthew is guilty of the offence with
which he's been charged. We can't dispute that but could I just
say that his actions are completely out of character. Matthew is
a good boy. Civil and courteous to everyone with whom he comes
into contact. I'm sure his teachers and the Minister of our
church would vouch for that. He is conscientious and hardworking
at school and he's due to start an IT course at university in a
few weeks' time. I ask that Your Honour consider these things in
deciding Matthew's punishment. Please Your Honour, Matthew is our
only child and I throw myself on the mercy of the court and ask
that Mathew be punished but not excessively so. A prison term
would jeopardise his tertiary studies and ruin his life."

"Mr Driscoll, you argue eloquently on your son's behalf and it
does you credit as a father.  And it pains me that you have had
to do this. But please bear in mind that my options are limited.
Your son is guilty of a serious offence and the law dictates that
he must be punished. I am merely the instrument of the law and it
is my sorrowful duty to deliver judgement on a young man who
evidently comes from a good home and loving parents. But let me
put your mind at rest. I'm not about to send Matthew to prison."

My heart skips a beat and I am relieved that I'm not being sent
to prison. I have read - and heard - many salacious stories of
what happens to young first time offenders sent to jail. I am to
be spared these horrors. For that I am grateful and all that now
remains is for the judge to set my fine and allow me to dress and
go home. No matter how large the fine, I promise myself that I
will work hard to repay my father. As soon as the New Year's
holiday is over, I will look for a part time job.

"Mathew Driscoll!  Turn and face the bench!"

I turn and face the judge with more confidence than I'd felt just
a few minutes ago. No doubt he'll sternly rebuke me - as he'd
done with Josh - set the amount of my fine and dismiss me from
his court free to return home with my parents. I know that when
we do arrive home that my father will soundly chew my ass. But I
don't care as my stupidity warrants his anger. I will take
whatever punishment he decides upon. Whatever it is it will be
well deserved. And I have learned my lesson.

"Matthew Driscoll, I have listened to your father's heartfelt
plea that I treat you leniently. However it is my judgement that
you are no longer fit to live in our society and should be
removed from the company of decent, law abiding people.
Therefore, I bestow upon you the maximum sentence that the law
allows for your abominable crime. I hereby sentence you to
lifelong servitude as an indentured servant. You will be taken
from this court and conveyed to the court appointed dealership
where you will be processed into slavery and sold at the next
available auction. The clothing and other personal items you wore
to the court are forfeited and will be donated to a charity for
the poor and destitute. This case is now closed. Bailiff, take
the prisoner to the holding cells to await transfer to ....
Bailiff, who are the current court appointed agents?"

"Michelson and Hansen, Your Honour. They have the contract to
process and sell all court sentenced slaves."

"Very well bailiff. I'll leave the prisoner in your hands."

The consequence of the judgement leaves me numb and I can't
comprehend it. Somewhere in the fog of my confusion, I hear my
mother's anguished cry of protest.

Two of the court's security guards take hold of my arms and lead
me from the court. As I am taken through the door into a
passageway leading to the holding cells I turn back and see my
parents perhaps for the last time. My father has been stunned
into silence. Ashen-faced he holds my sobbing mother in a tight,
comforting embrace.

I call out to them.... "MOM! DAD! Help me, please!"

One of the guards slaps my ass and it echoes around the now empty
court-room; empty that is except for my grieving parents.

"Shut it boy!"  The guard tells me. "They ain't your parents
anymore. You're a slave now and slaves don't have family."

Then, as I am lead down the passage way, he condescendingly pats
my ass and laughingly tells me.

"Remember boy! This is what got you into trouble last night. You
hung it out of a car window for others to see. Well now, as a
slave, it will be on permanent display for everyone to look at. I
gotta say though it's cute and worth lookin' at."

I am paying a high price for my New Year Eve's prank!









