A sequel to "The Waiting is Over"





                    WAITING WITH HOLLY

                           by

                          Arty
    
              


ASHLEY MUST REPORT TO THE SHERIFF TO DEMONSTRATE THAT SHE IS NOT 
A VAGRANT.  SHE WAITS WITH HOLLY FOR THE FORMALITIES TO BEGIN. 



The grinning deputy winked at her from behind the front desk.  
"Well, if it isn't Ms. Ashley Johnson, the star of our training 
video!  What can I do for you, Ms. Johnson?" 

Ashley blushed as the deputy's words forced her to recall the 
events of last week -- when she had been videoed, at the request 
of Judge Search'em, forced to endure the Sheriff and "Deputy" 
Stanley performing a cavity search upon her.  The humiliation of 
the four helpless orgasms was fresh in her mind.  "I have an 
appointment with the Sheriff so that he can verify that I am not 
a vagrant." 

The deputy scanned his list.  "Well, lookee here!  I do believe 
that you're absolutely right!"  He pressed a button on his desk 
and the buzz of an electronic lock indicated that she should step 
through the door.  She looked above the door as she opened it, 
almost expecting to see a sign saying, "Lay down all hope, you 
that go in by me."*  Shuddering at the thought, she followed the 
deputy over to a rear desk.  On the desk was a black plastic crate, 
like a small milk crate.  She was aware of the uses to which the 
crate was put, and it held her attention like the stare of a cobra 
just before striking. 

The deputy picked up a form from next to the crate.  "The Sheriff 
needs for you to sign this." 

Ashley took the form.  It was a "personal search" consent form.  
She herself had been involved in the recent redrafting of the 
form.  No doubt the Sheriff was aware of this, and the irony of 
her own work being used to enable him to strip her clothes from 
her and stretch the parameters of a standard search, leaving her 
no recourse afterwards, was not lost on him.  Numbly, she signed 
the form and returned it to the deputy.  He smiled at her with 
genuine pleasure.  "That's right cooperative of you, Ms. Johnson. 
I'll look forward to seeing a lot more of you soon!  Now if you'll 
just put your purse and other valuables in this here box, we can 
get you started." 

Ashley did as she was told.  Meanwhile, the deputy slipped the 
signed form into a slot in the side of the box.  "If you'll pick 
up your crate and follow me, I'll take you to the Search Room."

Meekly, she followed the deputy through some narrow but well-lit 
corridors until they stood in front of a door.  It was a door like 
any of the other doors that they had passed.  Only this one had a 
small sign that announced: "SEARCH ROOM."  The sign seemed to taunt 
her, whispering, "NOT LONG NOW, SWEETIE.  NOT LONG BEFORE YOU ARE 
NAKED AND SWEATING AS THE SHERIFF ENSURES THAT YOUR EVERY NOOK AND 
CRANNY IS THOROUGHLY SEARCHED!" 

She shook herself and stepped through the door that the deputy had 
opened for her.  "Y'all wait here until the Sheriff can see to you. 
Don't touch anything that don't belong to you, or there'll be 
trouble!"

Ashley realised that "things that don't belong to you" applied to 
anything in the crate.  Currently that was just her purse and 
jewellery, but soon it would include her clothes!  Forbidden to 
touch her own clothes until given permission -- what would that 
feel like? she wondered.  The ominous click of the door shutting 
caused her to look up. 

Already in the room and looking nervously at Ashley was a pretty 
young woman with shoulder-length dark hair.  Auburn highlights in 
it glinted in the harsh lighting of the room.  Ashley mused that 
it was amazing how many beautiful young women that the Sheriff 
found excuses to strip-search. 

"Hello, do you know what's going to happen?  Sorry, I'm Holly.  
Who're you?"  Holly's nervousness meant that she spoke quickly, 
and the words came out in a rush.  "I only decided to shop here 
because my cousin said it was the cheapest place for miles, and 
then the shop wouldn't take any of my credit cards, but luckily 
I had enough cash.  Then, just as I was loading my car, these two 
policemen drove up and asked to see my purse.  So I gave it to 
them, and the next thing I know they are saying that I must come 
with them on suspicion of vagrancy!  I'm not a vagrant!  When we 
got here, I signed this piece of paper because otherwise they were 
going to put me in a cell 'til my husband gets here.  I don't want 
to him to see me in jail.  Can you help me?  Do you know what 
they're going to do?" 

Ashley spoke soothingly, "Well, I AM a lawyer, but, as you can 
see," she indicated the crate that she had been carrying and then 
the similar crate that Holly must have carried into the room.  
"We're both in the same predicament."  Holly seemed to calm down 
as Ashley spoke; at least she wasn't on her own any more.  "I can 
tell you what I think will happen, but I don't imagine it will 
make you happy.  We've both signed the search consent waiver so 
the Sheriff can pretty much search us in any way he likes." 

Holly gasped at this.  "What about my constitutional rights?" 

"Signing the form means that you waive them." 

Holly looked pensive. 

She really is attractive, thought Ashley, almost worth changing 
sides for! 

Holly spoke again.  "I suppose you'd better tell me what you think 
will happen.  However horrible it is, not knowing is probably 
worse!" 

"I heard a deposition recently from another young woman who had 
been strip-searched here, and I'll tell you what I remember." 

Holly nodded. 

"First, the Sheriff will tell you to take off your clothes.  As 
you remove each piece of clothing, you will put it in the crate 
that you brought in with you.  Once it is inside the crate, you 
won't be allowed to touch it again until the Sheriff says that 
you can.  After all your clothes are in the crate, you will pick 
up the crate and put it on the table over there so that the 
Sheriff can search your clothes." 

Both of the women thought about the frustration of seeing their 
clothes in the crates and knowing that they couldn't even touch 
them. 

"Oh, I forgot...once the search has begun, the Sheriff can use that 
strap on the hook over there to give us "administrative punishment" 
if we do something wrong.  Also, if your panties look as if they 
are a bit damp, he will put them in a plastic bag so that the rest 
of the clothes won't get wet!" 

As she said this, Ashley looked at the strap hanging on the wall.  
What would it feel like if the Sheriff used it on her?  That woman 
-- the one on the tape that she'd listened to -- had said that her 
thumb had accidentally caught her clothing as she was carrying the 
crate, and the Sheriff had given her three strokes!  I'll have to 
be extra careful where I put my hands, she thought.  The bags for 
the panties were in a pile on the table against the wall, beneath 
the strap.  She squirmed with embarrassment as she realised that 
the Sheriff would definitely need a bag for HER panties! 

"Next the Sheriff will make us stand on this yellow line with our 
legs spread about three feet apart and our fingers laced together 
behind our heads.  We'll stand there as he searches through our 
clothes.  Since there are two of us, he'll probably cuff us so 
that we can't 'overpower' him while he searches our clothing." 

Hanging on the wall next to the strap were about ten of those 
cable-tie style handcuffs.  How often would he need ten of them, 
she wondered. 

I'll be naked and helpless, thought Holly.  How will that feel?  
The thought made her shiver. 

Ashley carried on.  "Then we will have to stand while the Sheriff 
checks to see that we don't have anything in our hair or taped 
under our breasts.  We'll have to squat quickly a few times, 
keeping our feet spread well apart, so that anything loose has a 
chance to drop out." 

Both Ashley and Holly blushed as they imagined what the Sheriff 
would see of them as they performed that manoeuvre!  "Then we'll 
have to bend over, and the Sheriff will spread our buttocks to 
check that we don't have anything taped between them." 

They imagined the feel of the Sheriff's fingers as he gently 
insinuated his fingers between their bottom cheeks. 

"THEN it will be time for the c-cavity search.  So we will be made 
to sit on that examination table."  Ashley nodded towards the 
leather covered Ob-Gyn exam table.  The leather looked old, but 
well-cared for.  The stirrups were chromed and looked cold.  How 
cold would it feel, when their bare feet were placed in them by 
the Sheriff? 

"Each of us will spread our legs so that the Sheriff will be able 
to examine inside our vaginas and our rectums.  He'll put on a 
pair of gloves from that box over there." 

Both the women shuddered slightly.  Ashley continued.  "The woman 
said that the Sheriff complained about her pubic hair 'getting in 
the way,' so he used the shaving kit to remove it."  As she spoke, 
Ashley and Holly saw the old-fashioned shaving kit next to the 
glove box as if for the first time.  

(How will I explain it to my husband, if the Sheriff shaves me, 
thought Holly.)

"Once that's been done, the Sheriff will lubricate us so that he 
can search our...cavities...."  Holly looked for the tube of 
lubricating jelly, but all she could see was a small pink plastic 
tube-like object.  Suddenly she realised that it was a vibrator!  
Ashley saw that Holly had realised what Sheriff proposed to use 
for "lubrication."   

"Yes, I'm afraid that the woman said she was stimulated for several 
minutes before the Sheriff was satisfied with the level of her 
'lubrication.'" 

Ashley left unsaid the fact that the woman had orgasmed at least 
once.  But her flaming blush told Holly all she needed to know. 

"Once we are lubricated enough, the Sheriff will spend as much 
time as he needs to ensure that he is satisfied that we aren't 
carrying anything...internally."  Ashley paused and drew a deep, 
shuddering breath.  "The woman said that the Sheriff didn't stop 
until she had orgasmed at least once for each cavity." 

Ashley and Holly considered the humiliation of being helpless to 
prevent the Sheriff's forcing them to several orgasms.  How would 
it feel when they shamelessly screamed their release under the 
relentless stimulation that he would provide? 

"Afterwards, the Sheriff will keep us handcuffed while he helps 
us clean up in the shower in the corner.  I imagine that the same 
desire to economise will mean that he will make us shower 
together." 

Ashley and Holly each wondered what it would be like to feel the 
other's soap-slick skin on her own?  Would her nipples harden 
as they rubbed together?  With their hands cuffed, it would be 
easier if they washed each other.  Oh, God!  How would that feel? 

"Once we are finished, we will be made to carry our clothes in the 
crates to the Interview Room.  There we will be asked if we wish 
to accept 'Administrative Punishment' for misdemeanour-vagrancy.  
If you do, then you will sign another consent form, and you will 
receive six strokes of the paddle.  After that you will be able to 
get dressed.  You will have to return next week and demonstrate 
that you are not a vagrant by having $200 cash in your purse." 

Ashley thought about the fact that she only had $199 in her purse, 
and then she remembered the answer that the woman on the tape had 
given when asked if she would have $200 when she returned....  

"I don't know," she had whispered. 

Something about Ashley's explanation had started Holly thinking.  
"Could you tell me the other woman's name?" 

"I-I don't remember her surname, but her first name was 'Natalie.'" 

Before Holly could say anything, the door to the Search Room 
opened, and the Sheriff walked in.  "Let's get this show on the 
road shall we...?" 

_______________

Author's Notes

* A perfectly fine bit of comic relief on the lines of: 
	a sign saying, "Abandon hope...."  More like "Abandon 
	clothes," thought Ashley  
is sacrificed on the altar of literary pedantry and the fact that 
I had a copy of Dante's Inferno to hand!  Sigh.


Dedication:
For Holly, a small token of my appreciation.  I hope you noticed 
that you still have your clothes on at the end!



Edited by C. Lakewood