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From: corn53@aol.com (Corn53)
Subject: Jemma, Caught Shoplifting, MM/f ws (corn53)
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If you are under 18 do not read this story. Parts of this story are based on
real events and may be too erotic or frightening for anyone under 18.
JEMMA - CAUGHT SHOPLIFTING (Part 1)
“Here you are, Jemma,” said the librarian at the reserve desk, “The others
will be on the University Consortium truck this afternoon.”
“Jemma?” said a grad student as I turned. She had stopped at the mention
of my name but the man she was with kept walking for two more paces, then
stopped to wait. I could tell she was a probably a grad student by her poise
and confidence. “Knew a Jemma once. Beautiful name. Never did see her face.
Years ago. If it’s you, you’ve certainly developed,” boldly seeing thru my
see-thru blouse. “Most intimate five minutes of my life.” and turning back to
her friend they hurried away - books, folders,
laptop in a carrying case. Her step lively.
“Wait!” I thought.
“We need to talk!” the shout not passing my lips.
Memories unearthed - buried for so long. I have to write this. No
choice, really. I wonder if the grad student with the gleaming green eyes and
short, dark hair is the one. It’s driving me crazy. Here’s my story. You’ll
understand why I can’t sign it.
JEMMA - CAUGHT SHOPLIFTING Part 1
My name is Jemma. I didn’t think I would ever share this story with
anyone, but it’s been on my mind for almost five years, and I have to tell
somebody. I even hope you think I’m making it all up.
I really wanted that blouse bad. It was $70.00 though, and I only had
twenty. I knew Mom wouldn’t give me the additional money since things were
tight at home and my grades had been pretty bad lately. She was always telling
me I should stop thinking about clothes and think more about school. She also
kept telling me my skirts were too short.
My passion was clothes! And yes, like Mom said, my skirts were too
short. I couldn’t bend without exposing my panties, which was OK with me,
since my second passion was teasing boys. Boys of all ages. I teased the boys
in our Junior High School and the teachers. I teased strangers at the mall,
especially older men. It seemed like older men were really turned on by my
ninety pound, diminutive frame and
boyish figure. My blond hair was frizzy and my pig tails bounced when I walked
- my swinging walk, almost a skip. If anything my hair and clothes made me
look like an eleven year old MTV addict. Usually I even accentuated my long,
skinny legs by wearing lacy ankle socks and black pumps. If I knew a man was
watching me, I bent over to look at something - anything - without fail.
It may have been the short skirt which was my undoing. I was so used to
guys watching me as I traversed the mall, I didn’t notice the middle age man
who had been following me. I decided that the only way I was going to get the
blouse was to “trade it.” I took it into the changing room and “exchanged”
blouses. You could almost see my A-cup bra through the sheer, clingy material,
so I couldn't leave my other blouse on underneath it, and my old one was too
tight to put over the new one. My blouse was also too short to conceal
anything, including my tummy. I just abandoned it.
No problem getting out of the store.
No problem getting out of the mall. Great!
Got to the locker area just outside the side entrance to retrieve my
school books and head for the bus stop - when a huge hand gripped my shoulder.
“Stop right there, young lady!” his hand was hurting my shoulder.
“You’re under arrest for stealing this blouse. You’d better come with me.”
“Wait, please, You can’t arrest me. I’m only 14. I’ll pay for it.”
“I don’t care if you’re six. You stole this blouse which is a felony!
You’re going to be missing school for the next 90 days in a reformatory.” I
still hadn’t seen his face. His big, firm hand held me still. I couldn’t call
out or make a fuss because I was still hoping to talk my way out of this. We
were now walking into the parking area.
“You’ve got to come with me to the Police Van! It’s an undercover van.
Now get in and hold out your arms.” he walked me about forty yards to a dark
blue panel van, with no windows. The door opened as we got there and another
man in a suit got out and asked, “Is this the culprit, Bill?”
“Yes, this is the one. Put the cuffs on her.” answered Bill, lifting me
into the van.
They pushed me into the single seat and handcuffed my wrists to it. My
feet didn’t touch the floor.
“But I’m sorry.” I cried out,beginning to sob.
They pushed me all the way back into the big overstuffed chair. I noticed
my skirt was clear up to my waist, exposing my ruffled panties almost
completely. The panties were ruffled on the front and very loose, so they
could flap over and expose my pussy completely. I decided not to struggle or
they would see my newly bald pussy. That would really be embarrassing. Traci
talked me into shaving my tiny bush just a week ago.
“What time are your parents expecting you home, Young Lady?” asked Bill,
who seemed to be the leader.
“I’m supposed to be home by six, unless I go to Traci’s house and if I
decide to go to her house then I have to call and leave a message for Mom and
then I won’t have to be home until tomorrow around noon so we can go to my
Aunt’s house.” I answered in one breath.
“Maybe we can work something out about this blouse. If you cooperate with
us, we may be able to get you off the hook because you’re so young.” said the
other guy.
“Give Joe the blouse so he can return it. While he is doing that, call
you house and leave a message that you’ll be at Traci’s. Then call Traci and
tell her you can’t make it. As I said, if you cooperate we can get you off the
hook and your parents and friends won’t have to find out you’ve been arrested.”
“I’ll do whatever you say, officer.” squeaking, and on the verge of tears.
“Just don’t tell my Mom! Give me the phone.”
“We need to return the blouse first. What is your name?”
“Jemma.” with a big breath. Things were looking up.
When Bill unlocked one of the handcuffs, I began unbuttoning the blouse.
“But what about my other one?” I asked.
“The store is holding it for evidence. When Joe returns the stolen
blouse, and pays for it in full, the store owner agreed to let you off the
hook. Joe was checking on the cell phone while I brought you over here.”
I finished unbuttoning the blouse and took it off my free side. Bill
then handcuffed that wrist and unlocked the other one. I tried to reach down
to pull my skirt down and Bill must have thought I was trying to escape because
he grabbed my hand so fast.
“Don’t try to get away, Jemma. You’re still in a lot of trouble.
Here make those phone calls.” as he handed me the cell phone.
“Yes sir.” I took the phone and made the two calls. Before he handcuffed
my wrist back to the arm of the big seat, he said, “Here, drink this soda so
you’ll feel better.”
Joe said, “ Now we need the eighty dollars for the blouse, Jemma, so they
won’t press charges.” He was looking through my little purse.
“But I don’t have eighty dollars!” and I started crying, and thinking,
“I thought is was only seventy dollars.”
“We’d better cuff her feet, Sir. She might try to get away.” After
cuffing my feet to the front edge of the chair, which pulled my knees wide
apart, he added, “and don’t forget the gag in case she starts screaming.”
They also blindfolded me.
Now here is where the story really starts...
Picture all 90 pounds of me - arms and legs cuffed to the chair,
blindfolded, gagged, scared - my dress up over the top of my loose fitting,
ruffled panties - and no blouse. I was glad for my “training bra” as my big
sister called it, size 30 A, with sheer cups and narrow pink ribbons around
the edges, tied in a little bow in the center. You could see my dime-size,
pink nipples right through it.
“We are going to a special convention tonight, Jemma, and you’re going to
be one of the guests of honor. If you continue to cooperate, you won’t get in
any further trouble. OK?” asked Bill “And, if you cooperate, they will drop
the felony charges.” Joe left to take the blouse back.
“Yefffff, srrrrr” I tried to tell him I would cooperate through my gag.
Joe came back and closed the van door. I had no idea where the police
were taking me or what the convention might be. I was worried and curious. I
knew Traci would keep my secret, because I bailed her out with her parents lots
of times.
Would you like some more soda?” Bill asked me kindly as he took off the
gag.
I replied, “Sure, Bill. That would be great. May I call You Bill?”
“Of course, Jemma. Here’s another soda for you.” I drank all of it,
trying to keep the gag off longer. About half an hour later, I finished it.
We were still driving.
“This sure is pretty.” Bill said touching the sides of my bra under my
armpits with both hands. "I can see your tan lines around the edge of it.
Cute."
“Thanks. My sister says I really don’t need one, but it makes me feel
grown up.” I heard Joe chuckle in the front seat. I was getting a little self
conscious with them seeing my underwear like this, but Bill seemed to think I
looked real grown up.
“And these are such pretty panties. They don’t look like a little girls
at all.” his fingers now playing with the ruffles on the front. When he
pulled the ruffles forward, I was worried he would see my bald pussy, but he
didn’t comment on it. I was starting to like Bill. He began rubbing my bra in
the front. His light touch made my breasts tingle - you know, so the little
bump in the middle sticks out through the material. He started squeezing them
softly and said, “Oh yes, you’re getting to be such a big girl.”
“We need to make sure you’re completely clean, Jemma, so I’m going to help
you remove your clothes now. OK?” Bill asked. I recognized his voice, very
calm now.
We drove about half an hour and then Bill began helping me get ready while
Joe drove. Without removing the gag or the blindfold, he unfastened one arm at
a time and helped me get out of my bra. He unfastened both legs to pull off my
panties while I held my hips up. When he refastened my legs, he put my feet up
on the edge of the seat so that my knees were almost up to my chest. Then he
put a rope around each knee, pulling them out over the edge of the chair arms
and tied them - spread apart.
"Your tan lines are so cute, Jenna. It almost looks like you're wearing a
white bra and panties, your skin is so white. Look at this, Joe. Isn't she
cute?" I saw some flashes of light through my blindfold.
"Beautiful." Joe said, "Her nipples are such a light pink you can hardly
see them."
Bill put the gag back on and said it wouldn’t be much further. I heard
them talking in the front seat but couldn’t tell what they were saying. I
could tell by the sound of their voices that they checked on me often. Looking
back and sounding happy about something.
I’m going to wash you off a little bit with a warm washcloth now, Jemma.
Bill was now kneeling in front of my chair and began rubbing me all over with a
perfumy, warm, wet washcloth which he got out of some kind of cooler. “We
won’t have to shave you. You beat us to it.” and patted my pussy gently.
“Yeffff, srrrrr,” I tried to say. He took off my gag and I repeated,
“Yes, Sir, I’ll do whatever you tell me. Is this like a game?”
“We’re taking you to a special contest. If we win we will buy you the new
blouse you want and give you back all your clothes. The contest is to see
which team can bring back the cutest, most cooperative girl.” he began. “There
may be some judges touching you here” as he tickled the area around my pussy,
“but nobody will hurt you.”
“When we get to the contest hall, we will put a canvas bag over your head,
even though you’re very pretty. The bag will have the name of our team on it
and we want to be real proud of you.”
“I will do what ever you tell me, Sir.” but finding it hard to follow his
explanation because of the fingers lightly tickling my pussy. It was getting
wet fast, even though I was wondering if they were now going to rape me or
something.
“One of the rules of the contest is that nobody will see your face, so
nobody could possibly recognize you in any of the pictures or videos. And
don’t worry about your virginity, either. (How did he know that?) Nobody is
allowed to put anything bigger than a finger into any of your openings, so
don’t worry about a thing.” and now his big rough fingers were stroking over my
pussy and fanny.
“ANY Openings?” What did he mean by that?
“We’ll be there pretty soon. Want another soft drink?”
“OK” I said even though I wasn’t thirsty. He said we would would be there
pretty soon and I really had to pee. But drinking the soda was something I
could do blindfolded.
**************************************************************************
*********************
JEMMA - THE CONTEST Part 2
We pulled up on a gravel drive and stopped. I heard men’s voices all
around. Car doors opening and closing. Still blindfolded, I was worried
someone would look in the front windows of the van and see me naked! There I
was.... can you picture me? - handcuffed to the arms of the stuffed seat, and
tied with knees spread wide and my bottom scooted down almost to my feet, which
were also cuffed to the arms of
the big, swivel chair.
The the van door opened! I blushed and struggled. I heard several men
making comments about “What a wet one you’ve got, Charlie” “All right! Joe,
looks like you’re in the ‘ten youngest’ again this year.” “I didn’t know they
got that wet that young!” “Have you been ticklin’ her already, Charlie? You
know that’s against the rules!”
“Charlie?” People were calling him Charlie. He lied about his name!
Maybe they weren’t even policemen!
I felt like they were all looking at me. I was glad for the blindfold.
Just as I was thinking about that, someone slipped a cloth bag over my head,
and someone else reached under the bag and removed my blindfold. I could
breathe fine. My chair was moving! Shoes crunching on gravel. Even though the
van was parked and the engine was off, I felt the chair being lifted up and
hauled out of the van. There were even more voices around me now as the change
in sound hit me. We were in a big hall of some kind. It sounded like a
hundred or more people milling around discussing me and other girls.
Since there were no female voices in the crowd, I figured the other girls
must be tied up like me. After I was carried in and placed on the floor, no -
not the floor -the sound of their voices told me I must be about table height.
About then a dozen hands started feeling me all over - no pinching or
anything like that, and no poking, just rubbing, stroking and patting me all
over. My nervous perspiration made the perfumy lotion smell stronger. I’ll
never forget my feelings - naked, tied “open,” the smell of that lotion, the
wetness between my legs, feeling the eyes of the unseen judges staring at me.
"Such firm little tits." someone commented. My tits are about the size
and shape of large hard boiled and almost as white. 'Very pointy' would be an
accurate description.
The cuffs and ropes were taken off and those dozen or so pairs of hands
lifted me lightly to standing position. New leather cuffs were put on my
wrists, stretched high over my head. I could now walk around. The cuffs must
have been on a rope which went over a pipe or something near the ceiling. I
couldn’t pull my hands down, but I could walk. It reminded me of our dog,
leashed to his tether wire. Anyway, lots of other hands were patting me -
back and front. When they stood me up I remembered how bad I needed to go to
the bathroom, I mean really bad.
A loudspeaker clicked on. The crowded room became silent. One second a
high pitched squeak, and then a deep voice boomed, “Welcome to the WET CHERRY
CONTEST, gentlemen. Tonight we have two dozen beautiful young girls, age 13 to
19, who we are going to judge in ten categories. You each have your judging
forms. We’ll start in just a moment, but let me review some of the rules...”
while he talked a few hands lightly touched me on my fanny and chest... “and
anyone who disobeys these rules will be escorted out and not allowed back for
next year’s contest.” and he went on to explain the rules which Bill (or
Charlie) already told me about. “No insertions except fingers, tongues, or
vibrators. No cum must ever touch them...” and other strange rules
reverberated in my excited mind. I was as curious as I was nervous.
But, boy I had to pee!
“There are ten areas around the hall. Each contestant will be carried or
led to each of the areas. For review those areas are: The Anal Swing, The
Disco Stage, The Toilet, The Spreading Table, The Vibrator Table, the
Girl-Identify- Other-Girl Stage, the Tickle & Giggle Couch ...” and he kept
going on... about the other areas, piquing my curiosity even more...but one
“contest area” really appealed to me right now!
I said aloud, but in a soft voice, “I need to get to the toilet area, and
pretty quick. I have to peepee!” Several of the judges patted me on my bottom
and encouraged me to hold on a few more minutes. They seemed to chuckle as I
stood there squirming around, squeezing and scissoring my legs together.
Several men led me to some steps. I climbed up three steps and they said
to squat down over the bucket with my name on it. I was evidently on a
raised, round stage or sturdy table with men all around it. They advised me to
squat down till I felt the toilet seat.
I squatted, still blindfolded, but aided by many helpful hands onto some
kind of port-a-John, like when we go camping. My hands were once again
rope-cuffed slightly forward, over my head. My feet were spread apart. They
cuffed my ankles keeping my legs wide apart. I couldn’t get my knees
together, because of the “seat” device between my legs.
“Go.” said several of the men. I couldn’t go in public like that. "Time
to peepee now, Jemma." The men were chuckling and waiting... knowing I would
go sooner or later. I was wiggling and squirming only supported on the inside
of my thighs almost near my knees, bottom in mid-air. “The men will all see me
pee!” I was thinking to myself, trying to hold back. The area around my
“stage” got quiet as I continued to squirm and hold it back. They were
whispering encouragement. “It’s OK, Jemma.” Everyone knew my name. "Her
little fanny hole is just as pink as her nipples." "So pink you can hardly
see it." Their voices told me their heads were within a foot or two of me and
that my bottom was at their shoulder height.
Drip, drip. It got completely quiet around me.
Drip, drip, drip. Oh no, I was starting to pee right in front of all
those men with my knees wide apart - totally exposed front and back, suspended.
Hard to hold back. Squirming while tied “open.”
“Is the camera on, Dave?” someone asked quietly.
“They’ve been on.” someone else answered - still whispering.
Drip, drip. Drip, drip, drip - faster now. I could see flashes through
the loose knit material. And then...
*****************************************************
next: JEMMA - THE PHOTO SESSION Part 3
Let me know if you can't find other parts, or if you'd like to see these other
"composite" stoires. Part of each story are based on people's real
experiences. Let me know if you have any memories to share, or if you know
where I could find some suitable pics. Thanks, corn53@aol.com
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