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Clio becomes the favorite toy of the Institute's staff.
Saturday Evening: Emily is truly fucked for the first time.
Saturday Morning: Emily prepares for her ritual.
Friday: Emily grows confident about Abby's fragrance.
Secretary initiated into life as a sub.
Women benevolently rule and train their men in the future.
I get some full time nude help and I meet an ally.
Candice is sexually violated by a mysterious woman.
I start my new job...naked as the day I was born.
Choosing a full time nude lifestyle and a new job!
A naked weekend starts my new life...but I didn't know it.
Governing Council makes Forced Public Nudity (FPN) legal.
Rachel's first morning at the club.
Sara faces more public humiliation, and gets her punishment.
Helen is manipulated to service her boss and clients.
Manchester 1956 and more humiliations for Jack.
Neela’s naked ordeal begins all over again.
A demeaning marriage and painful wedding night.
Neela loses her virginity and is raped in public.
A cute store clerk gets forced into slavery by her boss.
Week 2, Tues. Showing off her shiny new butt-plug.
Week 2, Mon. You want what to go in where now?
Week 1, Sun. Naked in front of friends and frenemies.
Week 1, Sat. shopping in the nude anyone?
Neela is abused by Guard Dara and his soldiers.
Neela is forced to play mother to her cousin.
Week 1, Tues. A nude run and a photoshoot.
Neela is forced to go naked in the Royal court.
Week 1, Mon. A mystery blackmailer with unusual demands.
Princess Neela's presentation turns into a naked torment.
BBW gets stripped and humiliated by rival at pool party.
Cards w/Takuya. Go out into dorm in towel. Pizza delivery.
She loses her panties during a classroom fantasy.
CFNM humiliation in 1917 at this British school in India.
A new Dom decides on a deserved punishment.
A mortal is enslaved by an ancient Egyptian sex goddess.
Mom and teen daughter force to be nude in public.
No choice. Leslie works out naked in the club.
The Professor increases Tee’s training.
She gets help at work, at the cost of her clothes.
Sara's embarrassing, naked vacation continues.
Prurient English teachers strip their Indian servants.
A gentle sissy and his fiance continue to plan their wedding.
The future is a lesbian utopia, and nudity is mandatory.
The relationship with nine develops.
A young executive finds love in the mailroom.
Unaware bikini had been untied as she swam away without it.
Nude punishment for a male teacher at Sarah's school.
Oh, you'd rather deal with this between us? Hmm...fine!
Olivia is given her assignment for the day.
Clio's further introduction to the Institute.
Streaking turns to forced wrestling...
A simple courier forms a bond with a demon.
Lives of six men living in the female-led New America.
Top notch service for those in the service.
A special investigator is rendered immobile and helpless.
Females see photos of Kerry, boys serve ladies at bridge.
Breakfast, the most important meal of the day.
A camgirl tries to make her first public nudity video clip.
A soccer mom's slave grading goes awry.
Ladies dress the fellas skintight, Johnny at Mrs Reilly's.
18 year old Daniel gets an unexpected physical at school.
Carl has to rehearse alone with the girls.
Allison must cope with being kept constantly naked.
Gwen is abducted by the evil Sir Darcy.
Dr. Speight believes inspections must be completely nude.
Charlie's schemes for Jacob and Emmy.
Staying at a public campsite won't stop Becky's exhibitionism.
Boys playing Indians have to be shaved by the girls.
Local Ladies descent into whoredom.
Poor Jaime's airport wardrobe malfunction and lost luggage.
Nude spanking for four boys at Mrs Reilly's.
Rodney models for Mom's bridge club. Boys caught jerking off.
Tiffany and a student begin Tiff's Plan.
Boys' nude swim meet witnessed by moms.
Rodney poses for his Mom and Mrs Reilly
The boys have to dress in Red Indian loin cloths.
Total clothing deprivation for boys: school in India 1917.
Hell! He's nude in a fitting booth!
In 1950s mid-West USA: a shy fella gets fitted.
Margie forced to sign away legal rights to naked photos.
Brian takes control of his step-daughter.
Women benevolently train their men.
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“It couldn’t be… and yet for a brief moment I thought it was. The girl I had dreamed about…the girl that had figured in my every erotic fantasy.
At school she had been head girl; three years above me and probably a million light years away from ever looking my way. Head girls don’t talk to lowly 5th. Graders, I wonder if in fact if they ever see them?
Not that I am not worthy of a look. Even though I would never say it through modesty, I am good looking although only five feet eight inches tall. I have a slim athletic body, good bone structure with brown eyes and straight thick dark brown hair. I think I was popular with the girl’s because somehow they felt I was non-threatening and could be handled easily.
At school I always seemed to be the first choice when circumstance dictated that the girl did the asking… always first on the party list… first to be asked by the pretty and flirtatious faces of the girls in my year… “Come and sit with us”… “There’s room here”, “You going to the dance, Steve?” etc. I rarely refused an invitation and enjoyed my popularity, but the Holy Grail in the personage of Debbie Pearson… was always out of my reach.
It’s been a year since I left school and started my accountancy training and she was still on my mind. Instantly recognizable! The same beautiful natural ash blonde hair, tied neatly back with a subtle tiny black bow. Her face, still as neatly featured as I had remembered, with those wonderful green eyes, the colour and the depth of the world’s most exquisite emeralds. Her teeth the same perfect white, framed by the most exquisite lips. Her figure, slender and lithe, with wonderfully firm breasts, narrow waist and perfectly proportioned tanned legs that seem to go on forever. I remembered all this and yet I had seen her, or thought I had seen her, for a mere instance… just a glimpse as she was reflected many times before becoming a pale image in the heavy toughened glass of the security counter.
I felt the blood rush to my face. I wanted to flee, to run away… nearly an adult of nineteen years old… and I really wanted to run.
I shivered, feeling my cheeks burn and my throat constrict. I could not, simply could not, endure the shame if it were true. I collected my senses. Of course it was an illusion… a mere culmination of my trauma of the morning. Of course that was exactly what it was!
The court had been as bad as I had feared. I was spared nothing, nor I admit had I deserved to have been.
Driving with in excess of 20mg. of alcohol in breath.
Statute 20/92 of The Driving Code.
Made law on October 23 2015. ‘Any person found in charge of a vehicle with…’
I had read the charge through many times as I sat in the waiting room. Basically since October, one bottle of beer would put an average weight man near the limit that he could legally drive a car. The new limit had been in operation for four days when I had been caught by the two female police officers in the police car.
I could think of no mitigation to offer the court. Eventually I was called. The attractive female court official, her expression, neither condemning nor sympathetic, had ushered me into the courtroom. The three female district judges bade me stand up while the prosecuting lawyer read the charge. I watched her walk towards the middle of the court so that she could point to me and still face the panelled dais where the judges sat, their ornate wooden benches, hiding all but their heads and shoulders.
“Stephen Woodrow Ryder. You have been charged with driving with in excess of 20mg. of alcohol in breath. How do you plead?”
I had looked at the judges. The middle of the three, probably thirty five years old; her suit immaculately tailored, her hair swept back into a neat bun, looked at me questioningly as I stood before the court, shamefaced and trembling.
The lady to her right, her black hair shining under the strong lights, had pursed her red lips into a thoughtful expression before speaking. “You have no legal representation; do you wish the court to appoint someone?”
I am guilty er Ma’am.. er I have no er… defence.”
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
“You are not even sorry?” Her sardonic expression was accented by one beautiful eyebrow raised quizzically as she questioned me.
I stammered, like the fool I felt. “Oh no, Ma’am… I er… mean I am most dreadfully sorry. I deserve to be guilty…er I mean I am guilty and most dreadfully sorry.” I could not stop myself. I felt tears well up in my eyes. I er only had a mile to go… er and the road is always deserted at that time of night… and I drove so slowly er that the police car stopped me…” I could not stop my tears flowing as I rambled on.
“I mean to say… I was a fool… er an inconsiderate stupid, stupid fool. I had no thought for the consequences or who I might have harmed…and no one to blame but myself. I am so, so, so sorry Ma’am.”
I stood silent, I had been a fool and I knew it. I could not help my tears I looked down at my feet and waited for the worst, hearing only the clackety clack from the machine of the court stenographer.
The Lady who was sat at the other side of the senior judge had looked at me long and hard while I had been questioned. She was probably in her late forties and although attractive, looked as if she did not suffer fools gladly.
I did not raise my head again to see them leave; I looked to my side, my attention drawn by a gentle tug on my sleeve. It was the court officer who had first led me in. She had a kindly and concerned expression on her face. I was too upset to appreciate the nuance of her look as she whispered to me. “You may sit while the judges consider their verdict.”
I can’t remember how long I waited. I could not stop crying, I considered what would have happed… had I run someone over… or hit another car… all the possible outcomes of driving when one’s reactions are slowed.
I was not privy to the deliberations behind the large wooden door that led off from the back of the judge’s benches.
*
Constance Hartman
She had known, as soon as she saw him, what his fate would be. For Constance, his young good looks and slim well-proportioned body were all too few and far between in her courtroom. Constance had been a senior judge in the newly termed, ‘Young Offenders Court’, for five years. She had served the bench well, enjoying the stature of her worthwhile profession and taking pride in her quality decisions regarding the future of her young offenders.
It had been the introduction of the ‘Punishment Centers’ that had made her see a side to herself that she had never in her wildest dreams thought that she had possessed.
She had felt guilty at the thrill that had run through her body the first time that they had all been invited to a model and experimental Punishment Center in another state.
She had not dared look at her fellow justices as she had watched a naked teenager being soundly strapped by a woman police officer. The image had played constantly on her mind… and even in her sexually oriented dreams. It had been a source of excitement to her. The model center had quickly found that the effectiveness of center was increased by the use of all female personnel. The shame and humiliation of the youth was increased to such an extent that many of the more persistent law breakers rarely visited twice.
For the state the financial benefits had been extraordinarily good. Instead of the cost of hundreds of staff to administer probation or run boot camps, thirty or so young women could process up to five offenders a day. If too many turned up at one time they were left in the basement cells until they could be dealt with. The whole process of court to punishment was done in private and therefore, a one time offender could be sentenced, takes his punishment and have none of his friends or employers know that he had committed any crime. This was one of the reasons that offenders were given twenty-eight days to attend.
When the centers had opened within her own jurisdiction, she had been one of the first to sentence a young offender to its corporal methods of punishment.
She had quickly discovered that her delight was heightened only by the good-looking young boys as they were being punished.
Unfortunately the sentenced youth could attend at anytime within a twenty-eight day period and as such her visits were often filled with disappointment. It was only as she became on personal terms with some of the staff at certain centers that they would quietly and with discretion let her know who had arrived; or rather what the young boy… or sometimes girl looked like.
She stifled her imagination as she looked at her fellow judges. She was quite sure that as senior judge her recommendations would be well heeded. Better than that, she knew that she was quite adept at sowing the seeds for someone else to make the right decision. Constance also had certain knowledge, although the subject was never broached… that her fellow justices also took a keen delight in the strapping of a good looking young boy.
“Well he is pleading guilty; without representation he is at the mercy of the court, which is a foolhardy action, brought about I believe, because he is full of remorse and intends to not make the same mistake again.” She paused. “I really do believe that he is full of remorse.”
“Well there is not a lot we can do. I suppose that it is no excuse that the limit has only been dropped for four days. I suppose he will be about the first to be prosecuted under the new limits.”
“But only one milligram over it, if he had waited and had the sample taken in blood, he would have been clear.”
“I know, the arresting officer has stated that he waived his right to wait for a doctor and a blood sample, it says he was full of self-guilt and just kept saying he was sorry… but now we have to decide… the options aren’t many.”
Constance looked at her companions.
“Well there aren’t any really. I obviously won’t send him to jail of course, and the probation services are stretched to capacity and are taking on no more new cases, so there is only the punishment center. If we defer it to the next sessions, they will want to know why… and what can we tell them… that he was utterly contrite?”
“I know… it just seems unfair… that we get belligerent, obvious diehard drinkers that get caught on their thousandth journey, having got away with it time and time again… and of course they will use every ruse… including of course delaying things for as long as possible by waiting for a doctor, whom they hope will be on another call…oh well.”
Constance read the pre-court report as she pretended to consider what to do. “He is a very unfortunate young man. He lost both parents in a car accident last year and has been living in an apartment by himself since then. He has no record of any kind and seems to be quite a responsible young man, apart from this.”
The dark haired judge spoke, her voice low and thoughtful. “Yes it must have been a traumatic year for him, since he lost his parents… and yet he has kept to his work and has not gone off the rails.”
She looked pensive for a moment and then spoke again.
“There is one thing… if we were to send him to the one center we all know… if you get my meaning, We could make sure that… well at least afterwards, he would get… well, erm… more looked after… urm less traumatic… do you both think.”
The senior judge looked at her companion, a smile spreading across her face. “Sometimes Kate, I think you are heaven sent for this”
I stood as straight as I could, I tried looking at the three female judges and then my cowardice took over and I hung my head in shame.
“Stephen Woodrow Ryder.” I looked up as the clear voice of the senior judge addressed me. “You are sentenced to attend a punishment center, during the next twenty eight days. You must attend within this period or you will be arrested and appear before me on a far more serious charge, which will result in your loss of freedom for a considerable period of time. You will also not be allowed to drive a motor vehicle for a period of nine months from this date and you will be bound over for two years. Do you understand?”
I managed to look at her as I answered. I could not help the trembling of my voice as I almost sobbed my reply.
“Yes Ma’am, thank you Ma’am… I am er.. most sorry for my stupidity Ma’am.”
I hung my head as I heard the prosecuting lawyer speak in a loud voice. “Court is adjourned”
I heard the court officer whisper to me as the judges filed out. “Come with me and I will give you your forms. Her voice was kindly and for the life of me I couldn’t understand why.
The punishment centers had been existence for over a year now and had been designed for a variety of crimes, vandalism, joyriding, petty theft and drink driving. They were specifically designed for the juvenile male although on odd occasions, for severe or repeat offences girls had been sentenced to attend. I knew very little about them and anecdotal hearsay of what punishment, punishment centers actually doled out was a closely guarded secret. Offenders who had actually visited the centers were not allowed to say what the punishments consisted of for fear of being immediately arrested for contempt of court; and the government had banned newspapers from speculating on what the punishments might be or reporting hearsay from offenders. All that was known was that they were an effective method of curbing adolescent crime and that there were very few repeat offences.
I sat at the desk in front of the young court officer, my eyes were still full of tears and I still could not repress the odd sob of deep regret as I waited. I noticed that she had taken off her uniformed jacket and was wearing a white shirt. Her breasts seemed firm as they pressed against the crisp white material as she leaned towards me.
After she had finished sifting the forms and putting them in order she spoke. “If you will sign these. Please”
She handed me a sheaf of forms, which I signed without reading. She took them from me, her slender fingers shuffling the papers into a neat pile before handing me the top copy.
“Take this with you… you are to attend Center 19 any time within the next twenty eight days.” I felt sure that she gave me a look of kindness and sympathy as I got up and turned to leave. On impulse I turned back to her. I looked at the soft expression of sympathy upon her face and although I was near to tears again I managed to stammer. “Thank you for your help er.. Miss, I am so sorry to have caused so much troub
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