LAKEWOOD'S COSTUME SHOP II:

                    TO SERVE THE PEOPLE

                            by

                         Joe Doe




She didn't understand what all the fuss was about.  Truly she 
didn't.  

She had selected the bag with the red star and the motto, "Serve 
the People" because it seemed stylish and chic.  

It wasn't her fault that 69,000 people had died in some stupid old 
South American country when Maoist rebels led an uprising.  

Like that was HER problem?

Just because she was one of the most beautiful woman in the world, 
and one of the highest paid stars in Hollywood, the press was on 
her back constantly!

She did serve the people!  Didn't they understand her wonderful 
movies were a public service?

Speaking of the press, she knew the photographers would go nuts 
when they saw her in her cute-as-a-button Halloween cheerleader 
outfit.  Take that, Brittany!

But as she opened the costume box in the dressing room of the 
Lakewood Costume Shop, she was puzzled.

Work boots, socks, and rope?  This wasn't a cheerleader outfit.

The room FLASHED! with purple lightning.

		******************************

The courtroom was hot, dusty, and crowded.  The beautiful starlet 
squirmed as the 3 military officers sitting in judgment over her 
ogled her shapely figure.

The Colonel smiled as he read the verdict.  "You have been found 
guilty of class exploitation and crimes against the people.  You 
will find your new life, my ladyship, much less comfortable than 
the pampered existence you led in your hacienda!"

The courtroom tittered.  She was confused.  What was he babbling 
about?  Where was she?  What had she done?

She squinted.  The Colonel presiding over the court bore a striking 
resemblance to the Mexican handyman she had had deported a few 
weeks earlier, when he had asked for a raise. 

The two guards standing at either side reminded her of the two men 
who cleaned her pool.  

What was happening?  Where in hell was she?

"We sentence you to five years' service to the people!"  

The gavel slammed down, and the courtroom erupted into wild cheers. 
The Colonel walked over to the starlet and casually fingered the 
soft material of her stylish white dress.

"This is very pretty, my dear, but quite inappropriate for the work 
you've been assigned."  He turned to the sergeant who was guarding 
her and handed him a box.  "See to it that her ladyship is properly 
dressed for the people's parade." 

She shivered.  It was the costume box from the store.  

Her white designer dress was beautiful, but, as the guards 
explained, it was, like her money and her estate, being 
seized as "the property of the people."

So, walking towards the front door of the courthouse, flanked by a 
squad of soldiers, her hands tied behind her back with the coarse 
rope, she wore her new outfit: work boots, white socks...and 
nothing else.

The sunshine was bright, and she squinted as the soldiers marched 
her out the front door and down the stairs, naked for everyone to 
see.

The noise from the crowd was deafening.

"Pretty puta!"

"Look at those long legs!  When she puts those feet in the air, it 
will be quite a ride."

"What a pretty honey pot!  I can hardly wait to see it in the 
window."  

Traffic was stopped.  They marched down the center of the street, 
the crowds laughing and jeering, her nipples hardening in the 
breeze.

"What a pretty mouth!  I can hardly wait!"

"I'm going to bend her over, with those cute little buns in the 
air."

"Yeah, I bet the little piggy will squeal when you pork her from 
behind."

The crowd grew as the humiliation parade continued through the 
town.  To the pretty star, the "parade" seemed endless.  Although 
the town was strange, she recognized the jeering crowd.  The 
bellboy from Four Seasons...the waitress from her favorite Mexican 
restaurant...the men who drained the cesspool at her summer house 
in Hawaii.  

Everyone who had ever served her was there, laughing, jeering, 
taunting.

She stared down at the ground, avoiding their gaze.

SWISH!  She drew one knee up in the air as the sergeant slashed his 
riding crop across her delectable backside.

"Eyes front, puta!" he sneered.  "Let the people see the blushing 
face of the exploiter of the people.  Look the proletariat in the 
eye."

She lifted her chin high, and made eye contact with each of the men 
and women who heckled her.

"Whip her pampered ass!"  

"Make her dance!"

"Get used to it, chica.  They will spank you for far less where 
you're going."

"Don't worry, she's a frisky bitch.  She'll pant like a dog, and 
beg for more."

At last, they arrived.  She sighed, relieved the parade was over.

Her relief was short-lived.   They placed her on a shelf in a 
picture window, her legs spread wide, a large white card marking 
her price:

			3 soles nuevos  

A little less than a dollar.

A dozen other prostitutes sat in the window with her, but the 
boisterous crowd was focused on her.

"How do you like your new job?"

"Now it's our turn to go shopping!"

"What does it feel like on the other side of the glass?"

"It's going to be quite a change for you, working for a living."

"Do you like your new job?"

"She hasn't even started yet!"

Her legs were spread wide, and the overhead fan kept her nipples 
hard.  Oh, how she wanted to close her legs.  But instead she 
squirmed on her freshly whipped bottom and endured the sneering 
appraisals of her anatomy.

"Here pussy, pussy, pussy!"

"Look at that slot!  I bet she's squeezes you like a rubber band."

"She won't stay tight for long."

"Don't worry, I talked to Jose.  I'm near the top of the list.  
I'll get her by noon tomorrow, at the latest."

She didn't have long to wait.  Her first customer was the Mexican 
from the store who hauled in her groceries.  They did it on a mat 
on the floor, as the waiting customers cheered her on. 

As her pimp had ordered, she wrapped her legs around him tightly, 
and grunted, and wiggled around on her freshly spanked bottom as 
her customer gave the beautiful young starlet an unforgettable 
reminder of just how degrading some "work" can be.

The next customer, a toothless old man who had once dug the holes 
for the massive fence around her estate, used her mouth, while 
she gave his friend a quick hand job.

The homeless man whom she recognized from Hollywood Boulevard kept 
his promise, and she squealed and grunted as he took her from 
behind.

How many were there?  Ten?  Twelve?  

Her rest period was spent in the window, with her creamy pussy 
again on display for everyone to see.

They laughed at her humiliation, jeering at the sperm in her hair, 
her face, and her hot, wet pussy.  She was almost relieved when 
her pimp pulled her back to the floor.

Once again, it was time for her to serve the people.


HAPPY HALLOWEEN!


Edited by C. Lakewood