Tropical Detention

It was a steaming hot airport and not exactly helped as the crowds of passengers that seemed to increase by the minute. Finally, after a sweltering fifty minute wait, I depositing my backpack on the conveyor belt and walked through the metal detector. There was no buzz but immediately, the officer in front of me signalled for me to stand at the side.

“Yes officer?” I wasn’t familiar with he fanciful rank so I didn’t know what to call him.

“Open,” he pointed to my bag.

“Why?” I immediately said but he just repeated himself in his heavy accent.

I finally complied though naturally I was bewildered. Just as I opened it, another officer,  this then with more fanciful embroidery on his epaulette, immediately reached in and yanked out something. It was that rather intricately designed doll that I bought at the local market. I thought it was a great gift for my little sister.

“Hey, that’s my…” suddenly the senior officer, twisted the doll’s head and it snapped open. He tilted the body of the doll and out came a huge load of powder. I heard all of the  airport security men suddenly mutter something in their local dialect.

“You under….” I didn’t catch the last word from the senior man as the guy who motioned to me touched my arm. “Hey! Cut that…ow!” I felt cold, thick metallic steel around me wrists—I was handcuffed behind my back. “This is wrong! I  demand….ow!” I cried again as I felt the same metal just above my ankles–they had put leg irons around me legs. “This is uncalled for! I demand an explanation!”

“Open mouth,” the senior man said.

“Why? Look I want to know what’s going on. I just bought the doll in an open market..”

“Open mouth,” he said again in his heavy accent. I started to protest once more when suddenly something rubbery was jammed into my open mouth. I naturally tried to get it out but that was so impossible with my handcuffed arms. “Mmmmph!” I cried as straps cut across my cheeks and I felt the device secured behind my ponytail. A ball gag! I knew what it was from watching lots of adult movies despite my young age. What the hell, they had ball-gagged me?


With another undecipherable command, I felt myself literally whisked off the ground and half-carried, half dag through the airport into a dark, windowless van. Inside were several tough looking guards, or rather goons. two of them “attached” me to a rather torn hard seat–first the strapped me bound figure with four point restraints and second, they yanked my legs apart, jerking the leg irons and double securing my feet to the side of the bench or chair. “Mmmph!” I cried through the gag, more due to the conscious fact that opened my dress and revealed my panties to all these guys. “Mmmph!” I cried again as the vehicle spluttered to life and zoomed off so fast that I was jerked back and forth.

Before I could even bring my thoughts together, the vehicle stopped. The door opened to reveal a dark garage. I was roughly brought out and prodded like an animal towards a narrow corridor. Ten minutes or painful prodding and walking, my eyes fluttered as I entered a brightly lit room. In front of me was another male officer–wasn’t there a single female officer in this island? Before I knew it, he spun me around and raised my bound wrists, pressing my thumb against some soft object. It took me a few seconds to figure out that I was being fingerprinted? The fingerprinting took I don’t know, several painful minutes due to my fetters and muscles being stretch. My arms were finally released but that was not the end of it as my heels were unceremoniously removed and I was pushed against a wall. Wait, it was a wall with some scribblings on it. SNAP! SNAP! They were taking mug shots at me!!! And the didn’t even remove the ball gag!

What happened next was the most humiliating part of my life. They brought me into a side room where two men, this time dressed in plain clothes were waiting. They both had rubber gloves on and I immediately yelped through my gag knowing what this was. But alas, I was help tightly still by one of them while the other, who reeked of a foul breath, intensively rummaged through my hair, removing my hairclips, and scrunngie in the process. Next, he targeted my ears, uncliping my favourite pair of earrings! Despite my mmmmphing and limited struggling, his gloved hands ran all over my face. Momentarily, the red ball was yanked off–thankfully without any of my teeth and I scream the loudest. Before I knew it, his fingers were deep inside my oral cavity, causing me to momentarily gag. I couldn’t scream further as the ball was secured once more between my teeth. Then, an even more humiliating part as both of them drew my dress down to my fettered ankles, exposing my dark blue bra and my black bikini-like panties. “Mmmmmpph!!” I cried.

But it was to no avail as the lead guy unclipped my bra, exposing my 36C boobs. I yelp continuously, but that didn’t stop him from lifting both breasts several times, running his hands around them. Jeez, like there was anything incriminating on my boobs! As he did so I felt a tingling sensation, one I have felt since I kissed my ex-boyfriend. Oh my gosh, I was feeling aroused by his touches! With my armpit grouped, he left my boobs exposed and then yanked down my underwear. I always hated medical check ups but this forced cavity search was no where near anything I experience. I could only continue to yelp as the fingers entered my anus and then vaginal cavity.



They helped or rather roughly dressed me back  in my clothes minus my bra!! Then with the manacles and gag on once more on, I was again dragged to another room with just a wooden desk and chair. I was roughly restrained to the chair, hands still behind my back, rope below and above my bra-less breasts and legs tied to each leg of the chair so much that my crotch was exposed for all to see. Finally they left and a bright light shown down on me. It not only continued to disorientate me but made me perspire even more.

Before I could even think straight, a burly man dressed in a pink short sleeved shirt and and formal trousers entered, along with a shorter guy in dark shirt and jeans. The taller guy rattled off in the local dialect and then I heard the shorter guy translate. The stuff inside the doll were extremely powerful drugs and I was to be jailed for ten years under their laws. “Mmmmpphh!!!” I cried repeatedly through my gag, wanting to defend myself. I’m entitled to rights aren’t I?

The taller flunky left, slamming the door behind him. The shorter one circled me for a while, almost akin to a hawk circling his prey. Finally he reached down and yanked my ball gag out, letting the saliva-coated ball drop down to my deck.

“Thank…you,” I groaned, my throat dried out from the gagging. “Please, let me see someone from my embassy! I did nothing wrong! I know nothing about those drugs!!”

“Silence!” He yelled at me. “Your country has no diplomatic relations here and in fact, you as a student should know both our countries hate each other. Our laws are strict and final. Now, my senior will ensure you go to jail for a long time. I can, however, get you a special pass for a shorter period of say at least two weeks and then you can go home.”

“Two weeks?!! I did nothing wrong!! And I’m treated like some animal! I want to get out of here!”

“The only way out of here is via me girl, or via my boss who will treat you even worse. Now,” he unfolded a document from his pocket and produced a pen. My left hand was uncuffed–how did he know I was left handed–and drew my hand up to the document.

“Sign,” he said.

“I don’t get this; it’s not in English,” I protested.

“You have no choice, lady. Sign Or I’ll leave you to spend your life in our prisons.”


“Ok,” he recuffed me and started to get out. He lifted the gag up and pried open my mouth. “Wait, wait,” I cried, “I’ll do it.”

“Good,” he muttered then with a shaking hand, I scribbled my scrawly signature.

“Wait here,” he said and before I could protest, I was bound and re-gagged. As the guy disappeared I pondered. Could he really give me a lesser sentence? Why was his English so fluent?


It was less than five minutes later that he returned with something in his hand. He came over and I was freed from the restraints to the chair, although my wrists and legs were still shackled and mouth still gagged. I then saw what was in his hand–it was a dark blak skit mask with no holes. “Mmmmpph,” I cried in protest.

“This is necessary during the transportation of all prisoners,” the man/officer/whatever he was said. “Either this, or I leave you with others.” Still with uncertainty, I let him drape the hood over me. “You can still breathe normally,” he said, although I didn’t feel so. Before I knew it, I was led out again, and soon enough into the scorching sunshine. Blindfolded, I could only guess I was in some large car or mini an I was laid, cuffed hands down and surprisingly strapped to the seat. If the ride from the airport to the station was painful, this was ten times, no hundred times worse, especially when the vehicle travelled over potholes.

Finally, after 1 and a half, no 2 hours, the car stopped and I was released from my vertical position. Even from the dark hood, I could guess with certainty that I was in some sort of underground location. Through several flights of stairs, which further strained my ankles, I was guided through several clanging doors before I was stopped. With the sound of a locked keypad, I was brought in to another room and then forced to the ground. Click,click click, my bonds were linked to some rings or chains attached to the wall or ground then my legs bend and parted. “Stay,” was his command but I immediately shifted my legs. “No, open your legs as before and keep them there. There’s video feed in this room; I’ll be watching.” With that I heard him leave and the door lock. What the hell did I get myself into? I sobbed. I was suppose to be on a flight home. Instead, I’m treated like an animal and locked up in some unknown dungeon with some guy I don’t know and him or some others looking at my knickers. I want to go home, please someone let me go home…

The door opened again and I tensed as someone (the man?) approached me. “I’m going to remove your hood and gag, not a word, got it?” It was the same old gun. I heaved a sigh of relief as the hood came off, then the ball gag was unstrapped. Despite the warning, I coughed and saliva ran down my jaw and neck. “Drink,” was his next order, and a straw was passed to my lips. It was a refreshing drink indeed given the heat and all the torture I had gone through. “Ok, enough, I don’t want to fill your bladder,” he said. “Open your mouth,” Noo…I cried silently, but it was still forced open and I tasted another rubbery device, this time a tube. It didn’t take me long to figure out that I was now gagged with a panel gag; yeah I’ve seen them but not wore them before. Ball gags, panel gags, hoods, chains. Where did this small dictatorship get all this from?

Left chained and gagged (not blindfolded but that wasn’t much comfort) and legs open, I was left alone again. The room I was in was bare with nothing but the rings and chains I was attached to in. Where was I going to sleep, or relieve myself? What the hell is this place? Despite the camera–yes there was a camera above in the ceiling–I still shifted around but I was firmly locked to the ground. Damnit, this is really worse than any jail. This is like Guantanamo…

I drifted a bit to sleep–the whole ordeal was really tiring. Once again, the door was unlocked, waking me up. “Toilet time,” he announced, bending down to unlock the chain that locked me to the wall and ground. I in fact felt a bit of urge to, so this was a thankful move. But it also meant that I was to be blindfolded again, this time with a simple dark piece of cloth. The toilet was a simple sit down toilet, and thankfully not a squatting one. He helped me down then re-locked my hands to the front.

“Mmmph,” I groaned through me gag. Couldn’t I relieve myself in private?

“Hurry up, you don’t have all day, no I’m not leaving.” Great, a guy watching me pee. With much difficulty, I lowered my black knickers with my bound hands and relieved myself. It was just as difficult wiping myself. Just as I was pulling them up, he remarked, “This is your only toilet break for now. Better do both; if you dirty the cell, you clean it.”

What?! Well, I didn’t have any filled stomach so I shook my head. “Ok,” once more my wrists were cuffed behind me and with the toilet flushed, I was brought back once more to my cell.


I dozed off again until the cell door clanged open. In his hand was a tray of something mushy. Dinner time? Gosh I was immediately hungry since I was arrested close to lunchtime. But strangely, he placed the tray down and advanced towards me. “Mm? Mmmmpph!” I cried seeing the blindfold in his hands. “Yes, you’re getting blindfolded while you eat, Miss Charlotte Hawkins,” the man said and once again I was blindfolded. With my sense of sight cut off again, my noise picked up rather pungent smells and I easily judged that the dinner, whatever the heck it was, wasn’t going to pleasant. He unbuckled my gag and with the command to open my mouth, I was spoon fed.

“Ha…bleah,” I coughed, spitting out some of the dry, revolting substance.

“Oh please, behave yourself, girlie,” he changed his tone. “You would get even worse food it you were in the real prison.” Wait, how real can a prison get, especially since I’m shackled like this all the time.


“Shut the hell up and take your food. Unless you want to go hungry.” So I endured fifteen minutes of being spoon fed the revolting stuff, sometimes still chocking, causing some of the food to dribble down my chin to my boobs. Finally, it was over and he wiped my face and body clean. “You have five minutes of your mouth free before your gag goes back on, enjoy it.” I did savour those five minutes, before the dreaded gag was placed back on, blindfold off, and I was left alone.

I spent the next few hours thinking again about my predicament. Chained, gagged, bra removed, forcibly strip and cavity search, charged with some unjustifiable crime, and now placed in the hands of a don’t-know-who, and locked in don’t-know-where. Hmmpph, I grunted silently. In any other circumstance, this could be the scene for a RA movie of torture. I always liked such movies, but never expected to experience it in real life….Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I knew this signal–I was getting a stomach ache! I shifted as best as I could but the pain continued to increase. “Mmmmpph, mmmppph,” I cried through the gag and looked directly at the CCTV. Please, get me out to the toilet!!!!

The minutes tickled by, but the door remained shut. Please, please please, respond, I thought silently, and then wailed more though my gag. Please, I don’t want to and poop through my knickers and dirty the floor and then have to clean it and…suddenly the  door clanged open and there he was! “Mmmmph!! Mmmppph!!!” I cried in relief as he advanced towards me. “Shut the hell up,” he whined as he blindfolded me and released me from the chains. Once again without any sight, I was guided out of the cell, my gut now increasing its signal each step of the way. Finally, I was positioned on the shape of the toilet seat. I felt my knickers being yanked down and I didn’t protest. Just as it went down, I couldn’t hold it further and released myself.

“Mmm…” I groaned as the diarrhoea came out. I was still blindfolded and my hands were still locked behind my back. “Mmmmpph?” I queried, wondering if they could be locked in front. “No, girl, you hurry with you smelly poop. I don’t have all evening. It stinks.” Of course it does, I thought, smelling it. Around ten minutes later, I had released everything. “Mmmm…” I grunted as I felt him wipe my anus and front. “Get used to it,” he commented. With my undies up and toilet flushed, I was dragged back again. But instead of having the blindfold removed, he positioned me to lie on the ground and used a new chain to lock me in place. “Mmmpph?” I queried. “Sleep time,” he said. “No, you’re not getting a mattress tonight; You’re on the floor. No, don’t you protest, or I’ll treat you worse like normal prisoners. Now, hold still.” Suddenly I felt a prick on my left arm. “Mmmm..” I cried, what the hell was that? “It will help control your diarrhoea; you’re not allowed out of your cell at night.” But before I could speak back in gag speech, I drifted to sleep.

The next morning…

I was awaken by the opening of the door again. Still blindfolded, I could only mummur a sleepy gag talk as I was released. “Shower time,” was his only comment and I was a bit elated, not having changed or cleaned at all for almost 24 hours. Out of the cell I went and soon enough, my bare feet detected different titles. “I’m going to remove your wrist restraints, don’t you try to do anything silly, got it?” I nodded, thinking what on earth could I do with my feet bound, mouth gagged and eyes blindfolded? Click, click, finally, the tight cuffs came off. And great, he removed my blindfold as well, and yes it was a shower area, with only one stall, no curtains or door. “Ok, Charlotte, strip.”


“You want to shower with your clothes on? Strip!”

Turning red once more, I dropped my dress to the ground and lowered my black knickers but before I could get signal him to remove my leg-irons, he reached and snipped them off. “MMMpph!” I cried.

“You’ll see why later. Now, hands in front,” he re-cuffed then, with a different chain. “Ten minutes. The shower will turn off exactly then.” I stepped into the empty stall and received and immediate burst of cold water, screaming through my gag. “Shower silently!” he cried and with a bit of soap squirted on my cuffed hands, I managed  a bit of showering, even washing my hair. Soon enough the shower water stopped. He pulled me out and dried me thoroughly with a towel. Guided out, I soon found myself near a basin. He ran the water and washed my face for me, although with the gag on, not every part was cleaned. “You’ll get your teeth brushed later,” he commented. I then expected him to let me dress again, but instead, my hands were recuffed behind me to a waist chain, then he held blindfold the up.


“Oh wait,” I heard him mutter, then felt myself guided out. Push down, I felt the feeling of a toilet seat again. “Do you business”. I was then conscious that I was naked, chained and gagged in front of this guy. “Mmmph, camm i hmmm sommm tmmwww,” I asked for some clothing.

“No bloody way. Piss and shit. You won’t get another chance.” Still groaning, I did so, really turning red with this humiliation. Finally I was escorted, still naked, back to my cell. “Stand here, and don’t move,” he ordered. “Mmmpph?” I queried.

“You dumb or what. Don’t move from this spot.” With that, I heard him leave. Oh please, I wailed silently, just do what the heck you want to do to me. Just end this misery…a few minutes later I heard him return and I heaved a short sigh of relief. Once more I was down on the ground, legs bent and pried wide open and he secured my wrists, ankles and even waist to the ground. Finally, He pulled out the gag and let it hang around my neck.

‘ Could you please..”

“I said shut the hell up. Or you won’t get any breakfast.” His English and swearing was too good; did he study in my country? “Open wide,” I tasted a rather salty and gooey substance. At least this was a little more appetising than the dinner the night before. After that came a bit of sweet water–‘tea’ he called it. “Ok, that’s enough. Brushing teeth time.” I expected my hands to be released but no, he instead started brushing my teeth with bland tasting toothpaste, part of which dropped down to my breasts.


With a blindfold still on, he told me to move my jaw around in chewing actions. I did so for a minute or so before he called stop and pried my mouth open. Once more, I was gagged and groaned softly. “Ok, I’m going to release your leg bonds. Don’t you dare try anything stupid.” I nodded, hoping this would mean that I would be clothed. Within seconds, my legs were freed. “Roll slightly over to your left,” he ordered. This wasn’t easy with with my hands locked to the floor but I did so. I then felt a rubbery material being slid up my legs. This can;t be my knickers or any underwear, I thought. What is it? Could it be some kinky stuff?

I then felt him move and then something clad my big 36C boobs. But wait, I felt the clothing being tied to my neck and behind my beck. Damnit, it’s a halter bikini. Finally, he told me he was undoing my my wrists bonds. Finally free of any chains, I was ordered to stand up and with some difficulty, I did so, still unable to see. It was only then he removed the tight blindfold. Looking down, I was clad in one of my black thin string bikinis. Looking at the colour, it definitely matched the panel gag I had.

“Rub your wrists, ankles and arms.” I didn’t move immediately. “Go on, you don’t have this chance for a long while,” he added. I did so but like five minutes later he told me to stop and bend down on the floor. Nooo….I thought as I flet my ankles cuffed once more. “Hands in front,” I heard then thought I was going to be given a more relaxed position. “You’re no long on holiday, Charlie,” he changed his tone, then out of no where, he produced a series of cleaning equipment. “You are to clean this whole area, floor and walls, as far as you can reach and you have two hours starting from now!”


Left alone, I nearly the cleaning equipment and smelt a not-so-sweetly odour. Great, I would be stuck smelling this odour once I’m complete. There was a thin, plastic set of gloves which were snap on so they could fit around my cuffed hands. Soaking the sponge and squeezing it, I began to wipe the floor. It wasn’t a very big sponge and soon enough my muscles began to ache being on all fours the pain was worse around my kneecaps. I stopped around half way but suddenly his voice yelled, “no stopping, move it!” Over the next few hours, I tackled every square inch of the floor and the parts of the wall I could reach until I collapsed on the floor in utter exhaustion.

“Aw poor little girl from the West can’t even endure some some area cleaning,” I heard the captor comment as he re-entered. I was too lethargic too comment and did not resist as he picked me up. It was then I noticed he had brought two chairs inside. I was placed down on one and again gave no resistance as my ankle cuffs were removed and then my ankles cuffed to the sides of the chair. Rope, no, long plastic ties bound my torso to the chair, stretch below my boobs. My two arms were also bound to the sides of the metal chair. Finally, another lot of plastic ties secured my cuffed wrists to some bars at the back of my chair. It was only then he removed my panel gag.


So there I was chained and strapped to a chair with my gag just removed again. “Thank you…ow!” I cried as he pinched my right breast. “Did I tell you you could talk?”

I felt silent then watch him bring out another plate of food. This time the food didn’t smell so bad and neither did it taste that terrible as the previous meals, though it lacked some salt. He even gave me a few sips of water. With a signal to be quiet, I didn’t expect him to reached over and uncuff my handcuffs. Within the minutes, my bonds were free and her even removed the saliva-soaked gag from my neck.

“Stand up,” he ordered.

“Now, stretch your arms and massage your legs again,” he ordered. I did so and was only told stop twenty minutes later. “Turn around, hands behind you.”

Oh shit, chains time again, I thought then felt some different material drawing my wrists together.



“Ow! What are you doing?” I cried as the material–definitely rope–bit into my wrists.

“Shut up, unless you want to to be gagged first,” he growled but I continue to groan as he tightened the bonds. He next pushed my arms together and I felt rope passing below my big boobs. Some time later, an extensive artork of rope was formed all around my breasts. I would later learnt that this had a term: breast bondage. “It’s so tight,” I complained, ignoring his order to stay silent.

“Shut up,” he whined and then ordered me to kneel. Rope was bound around my ankles and then standing up again, my knees. I thought that was all but no, he tied a length around my tummy, just above my bikini bottom. What is… the rope passed between my legs, touching my crotch and my anal region. It was then tightened against the loop around me. What was this? Some kind of G-string?

I then began to feel strange sensations against my vulva, something I have feel since kissing a boy at school. “Hey, did you…mmmmpph!” Something cotton-like was pushed into my mouth and a piece of tape, no three pieces sealed it in. “Have fun with you own undies inside. Told you they would be handy.” With that, he pushed me to the ground, gathered up the remaining items and left me alone.


The Patient

The clinic was new to the town and it was certainly welcomed since the old clinic shut down. The single doctor and nurse were strangers to the town’s population but since it was the only medical facility around, they had to visit it for any illness. It was summer time and the town’s star pupil, Charlotte Seager, started coughing a lot. “You better take leave and visit the clinic,”, her head teacher commented.


“I’m…*coughh*, ah *cough*…fine,” she stammered. Charlotte or Charlie loved school and did want to miss her maths and history lessons.


“You’re certainly not. He’s a day pass, go and if need to, rest at home tomorrow,” the teacher replied. Half-grumbling, half coughing, she packed her bags and exited the school grounds. The sun outside was brightly shining and that was exactly helping the sick 16 year old. Thankfully, Charlie had changed to socks instead of nylon tights. But as she walked to the bus stop, the heat of the day grew and made he cougher even more. The bus ride was no comfort since there was a lack of fans or air-conditioning and it was a rather rickety bus. Finally, after another few more minutes in the heat, she was inside the clinic.


“Do you have an appointment dear?” The bespectacled grey haired nurse behind the counter asked.


“*Cough*…no,” Charlie replied.


“Oh do fill this form up. And there’s a water fountain over there. You look like you’ll need it.” After scribbling her particulars, the teenager thankfully drained three cups of water down, which did sooth her throat. Sitting down, she noticed that there were several patients in front of her. It’s one of those logn waits she thought, and picked up a magazine.


After a few minutes, Charlie felt that her bladder was signalling. “Uhm, nurse, is there a ladies in this building?”


“Outside, turn left but I believe it’s under repair today. Some leaky pipe.”


The signal from her bladder grew so Charlotte exited anyway, and indeed found the door to the unisex loo locked. “Open, damnit!” she cried as her bladder’s pressure grew. Returning to the waiting area, she asked, “Nurse, is there any other toilet here or nearby?”


“No, sorry. I thought you have a sore throat?”


“Yeah,” Charlotte replied hoarsely then coughed. “But I really have to…” She didn’t want to say the word, especially not with the other patients around.


“I’m sorry, I do think Dr. Shaw won’t be much longer. Just sit down.”


Shaking her head Charlotte did and crossed her legs and squeezed her eyes. Damn it, hold bladder hold. But why would she suddenly need to pee? It wasn’t that much longer. After what seemed like eternity, the other patients were cleared and the nurse called her named. Charlotte literally ran into the room to find a rather young doctor.


“Good afternoon, Charlotte?” he read off his folder. “I’m Dr. Charles Shaw. Please take a seat.”


She did so, again crossing her legs tightly with the increasing pressure from her bladder. “Your throat is given you problems I believe,” he continued. “Could you open wide?”


She did so and squeezed her eyes shut as he flashed a light and prodded around. Oh please, please, someone stop this torture! Give me a toilet now!


“Hmmm, that is really a nasty throat. I’ll have to prescribe a heavy dose of anti-bio..” Just as he was talking, Charlotte couldn’t bear it any more and shot up from the chair. “Doctor, I need to….” Suddenly her bladder emptied itself, a larger shot immediately staining her translucent blue knickers and spilling onto the ground.


“OH MY GOSH!” she exclaimed with her hoarse voice. “Oh m..,,” she was lost for words.


Doctor Shaw clam walk over and said, “It’s ok dear, why don’t you head over to the bed over there?” Her face red with embarrassment, Charlotte proceeded to but her bladder gave way again, with another dribble. “What…what’s happening to me?”


“Nurse Jane? Could you close reception and bring the mop?” The Doctor called. Turning to his patient, he asked, “have you had any bladder infections recently?”


“No…I,” she coughed and felt another short drop of urine. This is a nightmare. “I don’t know what’s happening to me?!”


“Well, female bladder problems aren’t uncommon with teenagers,” he commented, and that didn’t ease her worry. Just then the nurse came and saw the mess of the floor. She immediately began to mop but Charlie could only turn redder with embarrassment.


“Doctor, I really…” suddenly she peed again, this time onto the bed. “What’s happening to me?!!! Why….”


“Relax, Charlotte,” Dr. Shaw said, motioning her to roll over and placed a thick towel underneath. “Could you remove your skirt and underwear for me?”


Already bright red, Charlotte did so and instinctively cover her private part. The doctor walked ovr to a cabinet and extracted several items. “I can’t tell exactly what’s happening Charlotte, “ he said, “but I can give you something to stop it temporarily.” A minute later, he was by her side, holding a filled syringe in his arms.


“What…what’s that?”


“It’s an antidiuretic,” he replied, and she racked her brains, remembering reading  the term in one of her advanced biology textbooks. “It will moderate your urine production for a while.” Oh. “Now, Can you place your hands by your side? Won’t hurt.” Contrary to his description, the injection did. Then he used another syringe to extract a sample of her blood.


“Now,” he continued, “that’s temporary and I took your blood for further testing. Meanwhile, I suggest you should be given protection.”


“Protection?” Charlie queried, shifted in the bed.


“Well, the drug will wear off after a few minutes and it is not recommended to give another dose, especially for someone your age. So you need to wear continence underwear to catch further leaking.” It was then she saw what he had extracted out of the cabinet.




“If you want to call it that,” he continued in his calm voice. “Now, could you spread…”


“No, no way I’m going to wear that….” she croaked, starting to move off the bed. “I’m…”


“You certainly won’t be going home with that stained knickers and skirt young lady,” he pointed,


“This is so silly. Let me….”


“I say you have about eight or so minutes before you start wetting again. Now back on the bed.”


Charlotte’s head was spinning and suddenly she felt a bit dizzy. “Back on the bed,” she heard him say again. For some reason, she didn’t want to but somehow she found herself flat again. “Nurse, please hold her still,” he said then she heard a whirling sound.




“I need to shave you,” he said, “if not the urine and briefs will create rash.”


“Noo…” she croaked but the elderly nurse held her down and she felt the metallic blades again her area. After a few minutes, she was released, only to be rolled over to have a mat replace the towel and then something slide underneath. “Ow…Ow…OW!!!” she cried, as she felt a creamy cold substance between her legs.


“It’s to again guard again rash,” the doctor commented, glancing at his watch. “Two minutes.” She then realised what else was against her bum. But with the nurse holding her, adhesive sounds followed and the 16 year old was now taped with an adult nappy around her.


“Oh my…shit!” she felt a growing warmness between her legs and moved up to see pee staining the nappy. “I can’t believe it….”


“I told you the drug was temporary,” he commented, removing his medical gloves and then stowing the rest of the materials back. “You can get dressed now.. Not your underwear of course.”


“But how can…”


“Put your skirt on, Charlotte,” this came from the nurse. She gingerly did so and found it did fit over the thick nappy. “But…I can’t go out like this!”


“You certainly can’t go out with urine flowing down your legs either,” he said, “look, the brief can’t be seen at all.” He was right it couldn’t unless someone stared at it.




“I think we’re done here, Charlotte. Nurse Jane will give you the antibiotics. Since you are a school going child, there’s no need to pay for the pills or the briefs.”




He scribbled something and passed it to her. “Here’s a note which brand of adult briefs or nappies you would want to get. Tena Slip Maxi would be a great choice. They are thin and absorbent. At least buy one packet and come back to me in say about a week’s time. The blood test results should be done by then.” Just as on cue, another burst of urine stained her nappy and she squirmed.


“Wait, do get back on the bed.” She didn’t want to, but eventually gave in and he lifted her skirt. “Hmm, it’s it rather soggy. Nurse, can you get another out? And the cream and wipes.” The tearing sounds of adhesive were heard again and the nappy was yanked away. “Sorry, hospital-grade briefs.” he commented, though she did not get him. The stinging happened again as he wiped her vulva and spread cream on it again. Another nappy was slid underneath and secured in place.


“But…” she said again getting up. “I can’t walk properly.”


“Nonsense, it’s your mind dear,” the nurse replied. “And when you get the Tena Slips, they are thiner.”


“But…what will my family and friends say?”


He scribbled another note. “I don’t think it’s a medical case to excuse you fully from school. But this will excuse you from your Physical Exercise. As I said earlier, it’s not uncommon for teens to be incontinent.”




“We’re closing now. Don’t forget your bag and shoes. And the anitbiotics. Also, buy some wipes and DESTIN cream along with the nappies. If you show the store people the note I gave you, you’ll get it cheaper. See you next week.”


With that, the girl who once wore normal underwear half walked, half waddled out of the new clinic. Once she was gone, he turn to the nurse and gave her a hug. “Thanks mum.” he said. “That was a great move, lacing the water.”


“And that was a great act son,” she replied, kissing him. “She fell for it.”


“Yes. Next week when she returns, she’ll be all ours.”







Comments welcomed. Will probably post a sequel.


“Hi…” Charlotte said, re-entering the clinic again. She was dressed in a sleeveless beige halter top and pleated jeans skirt. “I’m…”

“Charlotte Seager, I remember you from last week,” Nurse Jane smiled.

“Uh, yes nurse,” she replied, recalling the horrible ordeal. “Actually, I feel much better. Why do I have to be here?” The nurse had called her to arrange this appointment.

“It’s all standard for a check up. You can go right in,” the elderly lady said.

“Hello again Charlotte,” the young doctor said. “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m much better thank you,” Charlotte replied, hoping that it will be a short meeting. “The medicine work fine; my cough is gone.”

“Well, I still wish to take a look. Open wide please,” she did so and the doctor examined her throat with a tongue depressor and a flashlight. “Yes, it’s all cleared.”

“Thanks,” the teenager got up and was about to exit when he called, “what about your incontinence?”

“Uh,” she turned bright red as she spun around, “it still happened across the week but it became less and less.”

“Did you use the incontinence briefs?”

“Uh…no I changed to pull ups which was easier.”

“I’ll like to take a look,” Dr. Shaw said, though it came out like an order.

“Doctor, it’s ok…”

“Nevertheless, I still like to check. Come on the the table.” Charlotte protested again but finally gave in. “Remove your skirt and underwear please.” Her face and arms glowing red, Charlotte did so. “Bend your legs…ah that’s good,” he said then started to prod her vulva with his gloved hands.

“Doctor…” she wailed from from her horizontal position. “Is this necessary? I’m fine, I don’t have…bladder…weakness,” she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

“You may think it’s fine but it usually isn’t. I need to perform a full urethra examination.”

“What?!” She knew what that word. “No, no, this is too far.” The student yanked up her clothes and announced, “I’m done here,” but just as she exited she felt a sting to her neck and was about to drop to the ground.

“Good job mum. Close up; I’ll deal with her,” Charles Shaw remarked. Quickly he dragged the unconscious girl back into his room. Placing the limb girl

Jazz Jennings: I don’t like you

There I said it. No boy would want to screw you.

So you call yourself a teenage “girl”?

Here are the female things you don’t have/can’t do:

You can’t:

1) Have an orgasm/sexual arousal now that you are taking hormonal blockers to negate puberty and play with nature.

2) Menstruate and experience what real biological girls around have to suffer/experience/endure. Oh , you may wear a sanitary pad but for what? Waste of money and you deny a real girl pads she could be using.

3) Play with yourself and have 1). Look down, you don’t like what genitalia (wow you know that word at two years old) you have. So sad. Other girls around you can, even though that may be wrong

You can’t:

1) Have the smell of a real vulva (not vagina, that is the canal unless your two year old self taught you wrongly) and risk having female-related infections. How lucky compared to real girls.

2) Because of 2) above, you can’t have sex, pre-marital sex although that is wrong. So unlucky.



Fake interview about a fake movie

The kidnapping of Esther Heed is a heart gripping story of how a kidnapped millionaire’s girls  lives through the whole sequence and finally gets locked into the Stockholm Syndrone to escape with her captors.  Starring world renown and award-winning actress Emma Weston, it initially drew flak  due to the scenes of nudity and bondage through out, not forgetting the constant swearing and almost rape scene. Emma and Scriptwriter Carl Thompson are here to explain the movie.

Me: So given my short summary Emma and Carl, is there anything you’ll like to add or clarify?

Emma: Why thank you this interview. You said “bondage”. I would say handcuffs, leg irons would be considered as “bondage equipment”. Yes, my character Esther is gagged almost every minute with a panel gag. I suppose that’s one such tool but the running idea was extreme silence and  effective restraining–or silence rather. It’s nothing  to do with domination sadomasochism stuff.

Carl: Thank you. Yes as Emma remarked, they are restraints which appear to be bondage stuff, but aren’t. If you want to dig so closely, yes we bought the gag and leg irons online from such groups, but not as a representation of them.

Me: Let’s go back to the background of the show. You’re well known for a famous movie series and one that’s has such a young audience. Why this?

Emma: (laughing) Yes, it sounds derogatory and paints a terrible image of me, considering I’m only sixteen right? But I’ve always wanted to break away from the “safe” type of movies or shows and try something new. This was a budget movie, a short one  but it also was one with an element that I wanted. So even with opposition from  my manage, my publicist, my parents and much discussion, i took it. I don’t want to be the normal female actress forever.

Carl: We thought it would take an older actress but Emma’s name came up immediately literally; she in fact called us  one we place the script to all acting studios. I was like, are you sure you’re her? But yes, Emma did some “formal auditioning” and she got it easily. I’ve never worked with such an amazing  actresses.

Emma: Thanks Carl.

Me: You really had no qualms about being stripped, locked and then diapered?

Emma: Well, that’s the first thing everyone chats about and some try to criticise. Simply, it passed all censors and even young teens can  watch it. No, after my discussion, I didn’t see it as anything. It’s acting.

Me: It wasn’t say a body suit or anything? You’re vulva was really shaved in that scene?

Emma: Yes, you can’t shave a body suit can you? That took  one take, but the preceding practices, it was all just a mock up. But that really did happen physically. My co-actors Dan and Sam really did shave me down there. As were the cutting often my jeans and my knickers, that also took one take. The cutting of my bra, well, that took four takes due to the camera angle.

Carl: Yes, that scene only. Emma’s the “one take Weston” girl. But that “cutting of the bra” scene, the lighting wasn’t great at first so we haha wasted lots of bras.

Me: And you were then diapered…

Emma: It’s what you never see in movies about kidnapped people right? How do they pee or shit? As this movie  involved the victim being restrained 24/7, how do you let the person exercise bodily functions? That’s the beauty of the script and why I wanted this.

Carl: Yes.

Me: So what was it like peeing and then defecating in the diaper?

Emma: (laughing again) Remember the “number two” was only done once in the show. But the peeing parts. Yes, I really did pee, it wasn’t any props at all. I did wet the diapers/nappies. Again, not something you expected me as an actresses to take.

Me: Can I ask how was it again?

Emma: You mean how the peeing occurred? That was a big stuff. Before the shooting began, I in fact wanted to see what being  diapered was about. So without being changed into diapers, I wore one  myself for about a week. For almost a day, i just couldn’t make myself pee into the diaper, no matter  how much I drank. Only at night did I get up, stand up and pee. The rest of the week, I really practised peeping, but lying  down as it was in most scenes of the movie. Then when it came to the shooting, it came almost naturally.

Carl: I too was wondering about that first, but when it came to the shooting and given what Emma did before hand, it was so bad, to put it simply. In fact, she stayed in the diaper between shots–since we took takes almost every hour and  day. Of course, we had to use new diapers for different scenes.

Emma: Haha, yeah. I stayed in the diapers.

Me: And defecating…

Emma: Ok, that wasn’t really planned at first. I thought it was too gruesome and icky, which it was. But yes, it was during one take where I was  really cuffed, gagged and diapered and didn’t clear myself of my breakfast when I signalled almost frantically to get them release me. So I brought up the idea with Carl and that scene happened. Yes, I did  mess in the diaper. No, as the movie went, the kidnappers did not clean me up–the camera stopped, they released me and I cleaned up myself. But that was shown like for a minute or so. As  you saw in the other parts after that, my character Ester gets to use a bucket instead. Yes, my butt was wiped.

Me: Oh wow. it must have been tricky, being handcuffed  behind your back, shitting…

Carl: Emma again managed it really well.

Me: And how about the restraints then? Esther was shown from start to end cuffed. Even during meal times and bath times…

Emma: Like the diaper, that took a short while to get used to. The  very first day, I told them to handcuff me, hands behind and let me move about. Break or lunch  time, I got the crew to feed me. Then with diapers on, there was no excuse  to ask to pee. As for the gag, same stuff. There however, was one trick that happened. After one scene, it was lunch time but instead of releasing me, they left me cuffed to the bed, gagged and in a rather half soaked diaper for half and hour!

Carl: We did joke around  then. But all safety was assured.

Me: And  the shower scene?

Emma: Yes, again no body suit. I know I’m a 36C girl. Ok, whatever, even though I’m a teen. Yes, basically, chained, albeit hands in front, gagged but showering. Took two takes though.

Carl: Not really a hard scene again. Emma did great.

Me: There were’n’t many diaper changing scenes though….

Carl: It wasn’t scripted to be. Again, that’s just to show how a kidnapped victim has to live and go about daily functions. Now the peeing happened alot as shown in the movie. As well as shitting. That happened. Again, this isn’t considered in other kidnap movies. Or books.

Me: Being restrained that long, even off takes must have caused marks on your skin…

Emma: It did but with some cream and by not moving around too much, it’s ok. It wasn’t placed on too tight. Not even the beginning when the scene showed Ester struggling.

Me: Were’nt you at all shocked being almost fully stripped and then in the later so-called assault/rape scene?

Emma: First question: No as I really wanted this role, I was prepared for it. I wasn’t fully stripped, I knew I was just going to be diapered and that’s all. Second, question, it was NOT a rape scene. Dan appeared naked but was clothes below the belt. My shirt was cut open yes, but my breasts were not full exposed unlike  the shower scene. No attempted sexual action at all. My diaper was taped on.

Carl: Yup.

Me: Ok cool. But how do you see yourself then Emma, especially with all this?

Emma: As I said, I made my decision. I don’t think I’ll be hated for it at all.

PS: All of this is fake but You can easily guess which actress I’m imagining.

Extreme Lock-up 4:Letters to the Editor

Letters to the Editor:

Treatment of my daughter:

Dear Sir,

I know the tough measures for the detaining  of females include young teenagers but  my fourteen year old was visibly shaken after  she was arrested for vandalism which in my view wasn’t very much–just a small spot on a wall. After being locked and diapered for almost half a day, she is now still quite shaken from the whole experience and refuses to go out, even to school now. I see the need to address crime, but has the police and government considered the pyschological effects?

Mrs  Tammy Benson

Re: Mrs. T. Benson’s article: Overreaction

Police’s official response:

Dear Sir,

I refer to the letter by Mrs. Tammy Benson complaining about her daughter’s reaction to being arrested under the new  rules. While she may be suffering from side effects, there is no need to demand  for the authorities to consider effects. Her girl  would have clearly understood the rules since they have been broadcasted on  the web, media, schools and signs all over the country. As much as one should feel sympathetic, all her daughter should do it seek medical help.

Mr. Cavan Bennett

Dear Sir,

We refer to first Mrs  Tammy Benson’s letter and Mr. Cavan Bennett’s reply. The rules are quite evident that all girls will be restrained and gagged but any medical conditions will be noted. Mrs. Benson’s daughter was proposed to be examined by the police doctor but she herself refused. It is thus her fault if she suffers psychologically from it but we would very much be open to assisting her recovery.

Inspector Mark Harrison


Commissioner Brodie Carson

Chief of Police

Approval of the new laws

Dear Sir,

As a parent of a very rebellious sixteen year old, I applaud the government’s new move  in fully restraining females, gagging them and diapering them  24/7 while arrested. I have  tried so many methods to discipline my child but none worked. Once she was arrested for underage smoking and drinking and subjected  to the new  rules, she has really turned  over a new  leaf. I urge  the government to ignore opposing views  and continue with this.

Thomas Mann

Extreme Lock-up: The Rules

The new rules:


1) All females age 13 and above until about age 60 will be subjected to it. Even foreigners and tourists.

2) This excludes handicapped, mentally ill or those with other medical conditions. Officers will access, case  by case.

3) Injured females will not be excluded by special form of restraints and slightly different treatment.

4) Foreigners or tourists will not be exempt from the rule unless their country sign preferential deals with the government. Signs and pamphlets will be distributed at all ports of entry to warn tourists and others of the new rule.

5) The rules are final; any female who tries to resist the measures will face rougher handling. Protests by any females against this will still arrested.

The details:

1)  Upon any arrest of a female for any crime, she will be handcuffed (always wrists behind her back) and ankles chained with legirons.

2)  A ball gag will be applied to the girl. If she is 13 or 14 years old, a tape gag of two strips of thick duct tape plus a breathable cloth as stuffing with be used instead.

3)  All such females, whether one such suspect or many, will not be transported in a normal police car but instead in a police van. Each girl will be secured inside cages and at least one male police officer per female in the van.

4) At the station, the suspect’s fingerprints will be taken with her hands handcuffed in front but then re-handcuffed behind her. Her gag will be temporarily removed but warned not to make a a sound as mug shots are taken.

5) Next, the subject can either be handcuffed to the waiting bench. She will not be allowed to use the toilet unless it is absolutely necessary. If she has to during this time, she will still be restrained. The toilet cubicle will have no door and the male officer (rarely female) will assist her in cleaning up.  If not, she is escorted to the examination room where up  to four male officers will be present. All bindings and gag will be removed and the girl will be instructed to strip off all clothing, items: jewellery, hairpins, earrings, rings anything  on her body. She will be asked to do this twice, and  if she refuses, the officers will handle the stripping and may turn rough depending how much the girl cooperates.

6) Once fully naked, a full body cavity will be performed by only one senior male officer, never by a female unless in extreme circumstances. He will check all areas skin and cavities: nasal passage, ears, mouth, anus,  vulva/vagina and double check that there’s nothing else on her body. A scanner will be used if necessary to double check.

7) Once checked, she  will be escorted to a side where a doctor will examine the subject to see if she can withstand further restraining and incarceration. If he disapproves, she will be held in this room under observation until she can be fit to be restrained or need further assistance. If he says yes, the girl will be locked, still naked, on to a medical examination table. If  her vulva is too hairy, it will be shaved, even  against her will, albeit gently.  A Tena Slip Maxi Diaper/Nappy will be taped on and secured with locking knickers. She will then be dress in a translucent gown that may or may not hide her breasts, depending the cup size.

8 ) The officers will take over, restraining her and gagging her as before, this time with a panel gag. She will be led to a cell. Each cell for each female will obviously not contain a toilet. It will have a ring on the wall where the girl’s restraints will be cuffed to for at least one hour before she is released to moved, still gagged and restrained in the cell. There will be a small bed with medical restraints on. She will be restrained for 24/7 will a CCTV monitoring her in the cell. Before dinner, she will be allowed to use the toilet to defecate, but with on hand handcuffed to a ring  on the wall. Similarly after dinner, each girl will be allowed to use  the toilet for defecation as well an hour before lights out.

9) During meal time, she will be escorted to a canteen area but still will not released. Officers will feed her and of course  the food will be according to her dietary and religious requirements. Not a word, other and the sound of chewing and swallowing or she will be denied the rest of the meal.

10) At lights out, she will be released from the chains and locked flat down to the bed with the medical restraints. Depending on the results of her medical examination, her  gag will still  be a muzzle gag throughout the night, or changed to a duct tape gag or she will not be gagged sleeping but warned to be silent.

11) Every arrested female incarcerated will be allowed only to shower once a day and that is before  breakfast in the morning. She will be escorted to an open  area where guards will assist her in removing her nappy, clothing and restraints but placing on handcuffs with longer chains. Her ankles will be handcuffed to chains linked to the wall. Given eight minutes, she will be subjected to a shower with average  temperature, which will  turn on and off with barely enough time  to shower. Only liquid soap will be provided.

12) Escorting  to court. The girl will appear still gagged, shackled and in  the prescribed outfit in front of the judge. If her lawyer needs to converse with her, her or she  needs to apply for a permit for  the gag  to be  removed. Only when the girl is called upon to speak to the judge, will order her gag to be removed.

13) Prisoner transportation. Occasionally, the court may be held in a city further away or she may be extradited overseas. For such cases, the female shall remain in the same restraints, with the addition of a hood. This hood is to be tightly but not fully wrapped around her head to block out light and disorientate her but not to suffocate. It shall be used when bring her out of her cell and into the transportation van. Only inside the van should  her hood be removed. On rare occasions such as extremely hostile or uncooperative female, the hood will remain on forever. In transporting the female prisoner, at least two male marshals should be sited in the back, even  if she is locked in a cage. The suggested number should be four. If there’s more than one, this number should be  multiplied accordingly. The guards should not unnecessarily stop but if needed, at least two guards (therefore four  is better) should remain with the female or females at all times while the others rest or gather food. On no occasions (under medical or emergency) should the female be fed even  if  it is a long  journey.

Van Transportation: As mentioned, it should be either a cage van or just a normal one. Prisoner should be strapped in in a seat belt like strap to hold her and if medical exam allows, chains to be linked to be van. The van should not speed so as not to cause excessive physical harm. Routes will be randomly selected and there should always be a back up van and additional unmarked support vehicle.

Water Transportation: On certain circumstances, females may be transported by a special prison ship. Again, they should be locked down, whether chair or benh, though the latter will be more uncomfortable. Aas it is a ship, the vehicle’s velocity may not be

14) On  certain occasions, such as acts or lesser nature, the female may be allowed to be transported  via public transport. This  may also be so to humiliate the girl. She  may either be dressed in prison or civilian outfits but again, a nappy must be worn and no bra or metallic items should be on her to aid escapes.  In such a case, one marshal is an appropriate number to escort her but two or evne more if she is uncooperative. In terms of such prisoner

a) Visitors: Will have to apply for a permit to visit girls incarcerated for more that a few days. If the visitor in female, she will be handcuffed and leg-ironed but not gagged or diapered.

b) If the girl  is found  not guilty or is released, she will be provided with he own clothes back only after being escorted home, handcuffed and diapered. if her clothes were damaged as a result of the officers’ doing, she will be reimbursed.

All these rules are final and all must obey these rules.

Extreme Lock up 2: Be careful what you write

“Miss Charlotte Kelly?” I heard a voice say.

“Yes?” although it came up more like a yes…since I was quite tipsy having a couple glasses of champagne, cocktails and tequilas. I turned in my six inch heels to face a pair of policemen. Uh?

“Your under arrest for writing unsubstantiated rumours that could cause another economic collapse in this country,” came the reply which sounded more  like a mechanical voice than a human. I was about to protest as another grabbed my arms and  yanked them behind my back. i was in a evening dress that reached only several inches below my waist and and the back exposed most of my skin.

“Ow!” I yelled as I felt cold tight steel linking my hands together.

“This will keep you quiet,” another said and my jaw was pried open and a thick leathery-plasticky tube was pushed into my mouth. it was linked  to some  kind of pad and strapped cut against my make up-fillled cheeks. This “thing” was locked behind my nicely permed and bundled  up hair. It took  me a few seconds to realise that it was a panel gag, worn my fetish people. Why this? Then, I remembered the “no rights  for women” police law, which allowed  police to strictly cuff and  gag females of almost all ages and keep them so. Darn it!

“Move,” I was told. I nearly tripped as I was half dragged with  on-lookers starring  at me as I was dragged out of the main hall. Outside, the chilly  night air bit against my bare skin and I was  dragged towards a back police van. I nearly sprained my ankles as I was literally pushed up the steep steps. Inside, I was pushed towards a  mini cell and my cuffed hands  were locked against a set of rings and cuffs on the  metal wall. My ankles were also treated to manacles that were pretty short enough to make me think  they were handcuffs. Finally, a hood was draped over my head and  the cell was locked.

The van jerked immediately, yanking me against the wall and causing me to yelp out through the gag. “Shut up and stay that way or we’ll taser you,” came threat. What the heck? I thought. How could I obey that given the way they secured me to the seat/mini cell. I could only bear the pain of the fetters which obviously was exacerbated by the speed of the fast moving van.

All of a sudden, the  vehicle screeched to a hat. Gosh, how far did we travel? The cell clanged open and the men swiftly released me from the seat restraints. Again, the cold stung me as I was dragged into a dark building where I could barely make out the sign “Police Station”. I was dragged to a desk and for the first time, they adjusted my cuffed hands to the front. “Don’t think  we’re letting it easy girl, we need  to get your fingerprints.” My cuffed hands were pressed against an electronic scanner–wow, they’re hight tech now–and within in seconds my prints were entered into their database. With my hands behind my back again. I was marched to a wall with height marking on it and immediately guessed what was next. “We’re going to remove  you gag but any noise and you’ll be sorry,” snarled the smae  mechanical voice. “Remove” was the wrong word, the leather panel gag was yanked out so hard it almost  cu my lips and mouth. The mug shots took almost the same time  as  the  finger  printing–one facing front and  oen at the  side.

“Ok, Charlie,” how did  they know  my nickname  was Charlie. “We can do this the easy or  hard way. Either you strip for us or we’ll take of you nice  dress for you.”

“No…” was what I could muster. Actually, I meant no this was  all wrong–the sudden arrest and treatment, despite knowing that  this was  the new  legislation  in place. However, two me immediately grabbed me. One held me firmly while the other yanked  the  thin straps of my evening  dress down. Immediately, my breasts and my pink  bikini knickers. I was  wearing  those translucent/invisible bra forms around my boobs instead of a strapless bra and my sweat from all this suddenly “kidnapping” had made both cups loose.

“Ah such sexy knickers and well, what  a method of holding up your 34 Bs,” he said while the officer reached and yanked away the stick on bra. I screamed and turned bright red as my full boobs were exposed but was only given a smack and the same warning to keep quiet.

“I have my rights!” I yelled, ignoring him.

“So do we,” snarled the officer who took off my bra. My knickers were pull down half way and instead of fully removing it, he produced a knife and cut them off.

“Hey, you damaged my clothes! The  rules said that ow…..!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” My body was fried. “If you don’t shut up, we’ll shock you and perform a painful body search. Now, last change cooperate or else.”

The search was probably the most excruciating time of all my life. They removed everything  from my body: hairpins, earrings, rings, bracelet, necklace, tummy ring, watch and everything. They tocuhed every cavity: ear, nose, mouth, frisked my breasts, my hair and poked around  my vagina and anus. Finally, they stopped and dragged me over to a table wear something whitish was on it. I was strapped down using medical restraints and knew that I was being locked in an adult diaper–a Tena Slip Maxi to be exact.  I always wondered why they chose such a maximum protection diaper since it would never be fully used–at least use a Tena Slip Plus which doesn’t have  such  big a  capacity.

After being diapered and with locking panties on–unnecessary in my view since girls would be restrained almost 24–They draped a short but translucent gown to cover my exposed boobs. I was then back in the  cuffs and leg irons and panel gag. They prodded me down a dark  corridor and  my cell was revealed to me.  Since it was late at night–I judged the time to be 11-ish or so–I was restrained to be hard prison bed with medical straps again. “Good night, Charlie,” was the last I heard.

Lethargy over came me so despite the most uncomfortable sleep position, I feel immediately asleep.

The clanging of the cell door awoke me from my slumber and suddenly I felt the urge to pee. Then I remembered I was and that I was restrained and  diapered. As the officer approached the bed, I had no choice but to empty the contents of last night’s drinks on to the nappy. “Ah, good morning Charlie, so the diapers do come in handy after all eh?”

I blushed again as the dampness between my legs grew and grew. Without any more comment, he undid the straps holding me down and lifted me up. The rattling of chains was heard and I submitted myself to the cuffs and legirons and belt (Note: I still had the panel gag on through the night and luckily, I didn’t choke on it).

Outside, the usual lot of guards were there and I was escorted down the dark corridor again to a dazzling bright area which was for showering. I definitely yearned for this especially given  the events the night before. However, the guards/policemen instead re-cuffed my hands to the front with handcuffs with a longer chain. The gown was cut away and my diapers were removed. Deciding that making noise wasn’t a good option, I motioned towards my gag for them to remove it.

“You don’t need your mouth to shower. Now  you have 6 minutes. Get on with it and we’ll shut off the the water exactly then.”

I turned to face the shower, noticing only one tube for shower gel–clearly having  a bar of soap was too dangerous. As I moved into the shower “pit”, a blast of cold water hit me and I couldn’t help but yelp through my gag. After half a minute, I fumbled using my cuffed hands to gather some soap and with difficulty, I tried to wash myself, especially my crotch area and anus. The latter of course was extremely difficult given the way my hands were arranged. Before I knew it, the water was off. The guards were back, handing me a towel and again I had the difficult task of drying myself, handcuffed.

They made me wear  the same diaper–well it wasn’t fully soaked–and a new gown. Then the “leader” from the night before appeared and told me that i was going to be brought to court early. My case would not have a lawyer it seemed, as it was a serious crime that was evident. What nonsense, but of course couldn’t object. “Breakfast will come later,” I was told, making my heart sink further.

Apparently, the courthouse was some distance away so again, the van was needed. This time however, another apparatus was placed on me–that of a dark hood. It was clearly unnecessary as I brought out of the building and back  into the “mini-cell” of the van. This time, the ride was smoother but the seat restraints were still cutting into my flesh.

I was soon in a court room with no audience and made to stand, chained, gagged and wearing a diaper to face a prosecutor would read out my charge and a judge. Some court proceeding it was. The verdict was swift: Given my age, I was not given a jail term but was to be humiliated by being chained at the city centre. My labtop, computer and internet connect  would be removed for a year and I would be monitored if I was near any PC.

Hours  later:

I was nearly sun  burnt and my crotch was steaming and sticky with all the urine packed against it when they released me from the pole. I was locked back in the van and  after a bumpy ride, I was at my flat. My neighbours didn’t seem to notice the clanking of the chains I was led into my apartment. Standing up, the single policeman uncuffed me and my hands, senseless from the restraining, almost literally dropped to the floor. The rest of the  chains were unlocked and so was my gag. Finally, I was stripped of the dreaded diaper and gown. Nude, he  handed me a bill–expenses for the diaper and  a further fine  for my crime.


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