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The Exhibition

This story is fiction. It contains no hard sex (i.e., no rape or

penetration, no blood or extreme torture); and involves an older woman who

consents to a form of corporal punishment to avoid more severe

consequences. It has bondage (reluctantly consensual), humiliation,

exhibitionism, and watersports with a strong "hold it" theme. M/FF exhib

ws bond.

The principal character is a mature woman, reflecting that themes of

bondage and watersports are not only for the young and beautiful, but can

relate to older persons as well.



THE EXHIBITION

CHAPTER 1 How it Happened

Nancy Johnson was no stranger to travel; as a free-lance writer and

photographer, she had spent much of her life abroad, visiting and writing

about innumerable locations about the world. At 54, she often went with

her husband, who followed his own pursuits while she engaged in authoring

and illustrating articles she would then plan to offer to those newspapers

and magazines who regularly utilized her literary style. With their

children grown, Nancy and Ralph had accustomed themselves to a life they

enjoyed immensely, largely on the road and often in little-known places.

Her life of travel had conditioned her to be rugged and adaptable, and

both of them had been blessed with good health. Ralph, more relaxed than

Nancy, devoted himself to archaeology and historical interests,

occasionally teaching and writing for professional journals. He was a

moderately tall man, graying, a bit older than Nancy at 57. She,

physically strong and active, was a larger woman, only slightly concerned

at her weight of 160, with her short auburn hair turning grey, something

she declined to hide or camouflage. She bore her years with grace, always

as well groomed as the situation allowed.

Nor was she any stranger to trouble. In her travels, she had on

occasion run afoul of the law, and had learned patience and tolerance in

dealing with the world's bureaucracies. So far she had never run into any

really serious legal problems, and while she had in her younger years spent

a night or two locked up for minor offenses, her legal problems had always

been solvable.

But now she faced a different situation. Ralph and Nancy had come to

this Caribbean Island nation, as much as tourists as journalists. In her

zeal to portray life as it was, Nancy had engaged in photographing some of

the poorer areas, including, she found out later, some religious rites and

quasi-legal drug trafficking activities which the government found

embarrassing. In fact, local law prohibited photography in some of these

areas, and the government was sensitive to being portrayed as tolerating

what some would consider immoral, backward, or indecent. She had been

caught by the local police, who had followed her while Ralph was elsewhere,

and she soon found herself apprehended. At this point it was determined

that she lacked the proper visa for journalistic work, and her she had

neglected to obtain a required permit for her camera and register with the

government's office of foreign affairs as a foreign writer.

Realizing she was in a bit of difficulty, she summoned her husband to

the police station. After the situation was explained to them, the police

officer in charge, Sgt. Melona, told them, very politely, of their

options.

"You must understand that I do not make the laws, but these are our laws

and we are charged to administer them. Mrs. Johnson, you are charged with

at least five violations of immigration laws and civil codes. I realize

that you may not have intended any harm, and that you are foreigners; but I

must hold you accountable under our laws. You will be given a hearing

before the police magistrate in a day or two. I advise you to obtain a

local lawyer to represent you. I could hold you until the hearing; but I

do not feel that you are a threat to the community, and if you agree to

report for the hearing I am prepared to release you in your husband's

custody if you will post a small bond, leave your passports with me, and

agree not to attempt to flee the island."

"Mr. Melona, I understand your position, and your offer is quite

generous, and we will accept it", Ralph replied. Fortunately, he had the

means to post the modest bond, and they left to go back to their hotel.

That evening, they consulted with George Hamran, the attorney they had

now engaged to represent Nancy at her hearing.

"Mr. Hamran," Nancy asked him, "is this really a serious set of

charges? Of course, I know what I did, but I really did not know of all

these legal entanglements. I've been in places before where I had failed

to get a permit or something, and usually we straightened it out with a

small fine, or a fee, or sometimes even a bit under the table for some

official. Besides, they took my camera and all my notes, so what can they

do to me? Deport me?"

"Don't try that here" George Hamran responded. "There has recently been

quite a scandal on corruption and even the suggestion of a bribe will get

you in more trouble. Since they have your photos and notes, and you were

caught in the act of illegal photography, and since you obviously do not

possess the required authorizations, there is little defense. I can try to

argue that your intentions were not malicious, but don't be hopeful. This

government wants to be seen as operating strictly by the law, and they

don't want to encourage other foreigners to bypass the rules. You are

almost certainly going to be convicted, but I will try to get as light a

sentence as possible."

"What will that be?", Ralph anxiously inquired. George went on, "The

charges will likely call for a jail sentence of about six months to a year;

but I think it is likely that you will be given something less, in your

circumstances. Probably four to six months, after which you will be

escorted to the airport and required to leave. "

"Four to six months?" Nancy was outraged. "Four to six months out of my

life on this forsaken place? Surely there must be an alternative. Can we

not arrange a fine?"

"A fine, alone, is not likely", George went on. "Prison time is what is

expected. And the prison here is not as bad as it could be. You will not

be mistreated, because the government is sensitive to human rights issues.

Your husband can visit regularly, and...."

"Four to six months! And maybe more! Give me some other option -

anything!" Nancy was clearly upset over the possibility.

"If you were a man," George went on, "there would be an alternative.

You could ask for corporal punishment instead, which means flogging. It is

humiliating and painful, but it is over quickly. men can ask for this in

lieu of short prison sentences. Flogging used to be imposed regularly, but

now it is done only when the prisoner consents to it, to avoid jail time.

Many men do choose it, instead of going to jail. But the law absolutely

prohibits the flogging of women - the government simply does not want the

image that might present."

"Then there is no way a woman can request corporal punishment?"

"I can't really say there is no way. But I don't advise you to ask for

it. You will be better off in the long run with the jail time." George

obviously wanted to cut this off. Nancy, however, continued, "if there is

any way a woman can get corporal punishment instead of jail time, I want to

know. Tell me my options!"

"Well, you asked for it," George continued. "But I strongly advise

against it. There is a corporal punishment option for women. It is

carried out periodically, only when women request it, and very few do.

Women cannot be flogged, beaten, or subjected to physical abuse. The women

who choose this option are exhibited in a public place used for the

purpose, where they must stand in shackles for several hours at a time,

while they are subjected to other physical discomforts which can be most

unpleasant. However, they cannot be subjected to flogging or any invasive

treatment, and they cannot be raped or sodomized, nor can they be cut or

permanently injured. The sentence may require them to endure this on

several successive days, if it is in lieu of months of jail time. It can

be..."

"Get it for me!" Nancy demanded.

George tried his best to dissuade Nancy, but it wasn't working. The

following day, he arranged a meeting at the police magistrate's building,

where the government prosecutor considered Nancy's request. "Since she is

agreeing to this, I will ask the magistrate to allow the sentence to be

carried out promptly. We will ask that she be given three successive days

of exhibition, to be followed by deportation. Day after tomorrow, she will

report to the police sergeant at the jail, at ten in the morning. Agreed?"

"Agreed", George responded.

Later that day, Nancy signed the required papers. She found that she

also needed a doctor's certificate that she was able to endure the

punishment prescribed, and a local doctor checked her out and certified her

"A necessary precaution" George told her, "they don't want to find out that

you have a weak heart or some other problem that might make you collapse on

their hands." She had also been told that when she reported she must not be

wearing any jewelry, watch, or anything of value, She should not be wearing

any cosmetics, perfume, or even deodorant, and her clothing should be

simple and casual.

Nancy concerned herself what she would have to go through - even though

it would be better than months in jail, she expected it to be rough. But

standing in shackles for a few hours? She felt she could handle that, even

at her age. And she couldn't be beaten! George gave her one final

warning, before he and Ralph delivered her to the police station on the

appointed day, "Remember, you asked for this - to avoid jail time. If you

give them a hard time, or refuse to cooperate, they can revoke the

agreement and put you in jail for the maximum the law allows."

CHAPTER 2 The First Day

The two men left her at the office of the duty sergeant, as requested.

After the preliminary paperwork and identification procedure, Nancy was

introduced to another uniformed police officer. "Clarence", said the

sergeant, "this is Mrs. Johnson, who is to be placed on exhibition today

and for two more days. Mrs. Johnson, Clarence will see to your

preparation, after which you will need to make a brief appearance before

the magistrate next door, and you will then be taken to the exhibition

dock. You are not alone; there is one other female prisoner, a local woman,

considerably younger than yourself, who will be exhibited also. Clarence,

she is in your care". He motioned to the door.

Clarence escorted Nancy down a hallway. He seemed polite and

businesslike. "Mrs. Johnson, you understand I must do what the law

requires and what you have agreed to. I expect that it will be quite

unpleasant for you, but please do not take it personally. I will try to

make it no more difficult for you than it has to be". He took her into a

well lit room with a table, two chairs, and a clothes tree with some coat

hangars. On the table was a large pitcher filled with water, in which

several ice cubes floated, a plastic bag, and a shoe box.

"Mrs. Johnson, my immediate task is to prepare you for your exhibition

today. I will also be in charge of the punishment as it takes place. You

will be outside for quite a while, and it will be hot. I hope you will

cooperate and I will try not to be harsh with you. OK?"

"OK, Clarence. I am prepared to do what is required. Tell me what I am

to do."

"First, this pitcher of water is for you. While we do the other

preparations, you must drink it - I will pour you a glass at a time. Next,

please remove your shoes, and socks if you are wearing any, and put them in

this box. I trust you are not wearing any jewelry, rings, or watch, as you

were told not to have such things. " "Right - no jewelry", Nancy replied

as she sat down on the nearest chair. She gulped the water, surprised that

it really did have a good taste, as she began to remove her shoes, which

she placed in the box as ordered. Clarence refilled the glass of water.

"Do I have drink it all? " Nancy asked, noting the rather large pitcher.

"Yes", was the answer, "you are to fill your stomach with as much as you

can hold - but drink it slowly, as we don't want to make you sick".

Clarence waited while Nancy downed another two glasses of the water.

She looked at him, as though to ask what was next. "Now", Clarence

instructed, "I must ask you - I see you are wearing a blouse and skirt; I

assume you are also wearing underwear. Is that so?"

"Yes.." Nancy was a bit nervous at this rather personal question "I have

on a bra and underpants, but I .. I'm not wearing a slip". "Good",

Clarence replied. "Please hang your blouse and skirt on the hangars. They

will be kept for you, along with your shoes and other things, until you are

released." Clarence sat across the table from her, while awaiting her

compliance. Meanwhile, he poured her another glass of water.

To be sure, it had occurred to Nancy that she might be required to shed

some of her clothing, and she suspected that in the exhibition she might

have to wear some sort of prison attire. But she had not expected to have

to strip down in front of a male police officer. However, she knew the

consequences of non-cooperation. She carefully slipped off her blouse,

revealing a white bra, and hung it up. Clarence kept his eyes on her, to

her embarrassment. After all, she thought, I am not some pretty young
chick; I am, in fact, a grandmother; not a real eyeful to anyone. Her body

was lightly tanned from much time in the outdoors, but her shoulders bore

signs of white lines from the straps of the tops she often wore. She

realized her breasts were much in evidence, but she was not overly endowed.

She hoped she wouldn't have to take the bra off, because she knew she

drooped a bit, her breasts showing a bit of her fifty plus years.

She slipped off the skirt, revealing white cotton panties. Her legs had

a few imperfections, she knew, but there was no way to hide them. She

wished her stomach was a bit flatter, but after all, she was just a bit

overweight, and she supposed it could be in worse places. As she hung up

the skirt, she noted the pitcher still had water in it. She quickly downed

the glass pushed to her, and commented "My stomach's getting full - do I

have to drink more?". Clarence answered by refilling the glass one more

time, which almost emptied the pitcher, and gave it to her. "I think this

will be enough, for now. You were told to expect some discomfort, weren't

you?" "I was", said Nancy, trying to get down the last glass. She felt

really bloated, with a whole pitcher of water inside her, and she felt

terribly exposed, standing in front of a police officer with nothing on but

a bra and cotton panties. "Are you ready?" he asked her. "Ready for

what", she inquired.

"For your appearance before the magistrate", Clarence informed her.

"You are mostly prepared - what's left we can do after your appearance. He

has to see you and approve your preparation and you must give him your

consent to proceed." "Where will this occur?", she inquired, mindful of her

undressed state and seeing no evidence of a prison uniform or other attire

in the room.

"Follow me", said Clarence, opening the door, "the magistrate is in the

courtroom just down the hall. We'll go now, and this should be over in a

few minutes."

Nancy responded with a horrified look and hesitation. He was asking her

to follow him down a hall in a public police station, to a public

courtroom, when she was barefooted and attired only in two skimpy pieces of

underwear. A fiftyish matron was expected to walk around like this?

"Like this?" Nancy exploded in shock. "I have hardly any clothes on -

surely you don't expect.." Clarence politely interrupted, " I told you I

would try to make this as easy as possible, and I am. But if you don't

cooperate, you can get your jail sentence, and get it now. The magistrate

knows what your preparation entails, so please come!"

Meekly, Nancy followed him down the hall, drawing the eyes of the many

people she passed, She tried to cover herself, particularly in front, by

placing her hands over her chest, but it did little good. At one point

Clarence stopped her, "I want to give you one small courtesy that you may

appreciate later. We are passing the ladies toilet - I am going to give

you an opportunity to use it before we proceed. Do you want to?" Nancy

hesitated, then nodded. Suddenly she thought of the physical consequences

of that stomach full of water she was carrying.

She made use of the bathroom facility, while Clarence waited for her in

the hall. Then he escorted her directly into the courtroom, where about

fifty people were gathering, obviously pursuing some type of legal debate.

At her entrance, the voices abruptly stopped as all eyes fell upon this

woman walking into the crowded courtroom in her underwear.

The magistrate immediately took notice. "I see we have the other female

prisoner who is to be exhibited today. Let's dispose of this matter, and

then we can return to the other business. Clarence, this is Mrs. Nancy

Johnson?"

"Yes, indeed she is" replied Clarence. The magistrate looked directly

at Nancy, now a pathetic figure, almost in tears in her embarrassment,

standing before him barefooted and in two skimpy undergarments. "Mrs.

Johnson, you have requested corporal punishment by submitting to the ordeal

of exhibition and discomfort for three days, in lieu of a prison sentence.

Do you consent to proceed? This is your last chance to change your mind."

"No, your honor", responded Nancy, then quickly corrected herself, "yes,

I mean I do consent, and will take the exhibition and whatever discomforts

go with it."

"Very well", responded the magistrate. "Clarence, has she been

prepared?"

"Yes, sir, as you can see, she is nearly ready for exhibition. I will

complete it when we take her from here."

"Has she been filled with water, to meet the discomfort requirements?:

"Yes, she has." Clarence affirmed.

"How much? "

"About two quarts, sir. I watched her drink it, and observed that her

stomach is a bit distended. I think it is enough."

"I am not sure it is adequate, Clarence; give her another glass as soon

as she can handle it, then take her to the exhibition dock. Go!" The

magistrate dismissed them.

They left the courtroom and Clarence led her back toward the room she

had been in before. As they passed a water fountain, he spoke to her, "if

you will take a good long drink from this fountain, I will consider that as

meeting the order." She looked at him with just a bit of hesitation, then

drank deeply from the fountain. Her stomach felt very bloated indeed as

they entered the little room.

Clarence immediately picked up the plastic bag from the table and told

her, "we must now complete your preparation. I am going to take you and

the other prisoner to the exhibition dock in a van. For the last item,

please hand me your brassiere and your panties, which I will leave in this

bag for now."

Incredulous, Nancy stared at him "what am I to wear? Do you expect me

to leave here naked?"

"Yes, indeed", Clarence replied, "that is exactly what you will do. You

are going to be exhibited nude and shackled standing on the dock. And you

will find there will be other discomforts, which you agreed to accept."

Nancy was dumfounded. No way had she expected this. But there was no

way out. Almost in a trance, she unhooked the bra and dropped it off on

the table, followed by her white underpants. Never before had she felt so

naked and vulnerable. She started to put her hands to her breasts,

thinking to cover them, almost as a reflex. Her embarrassment was not such

much that they were bare, but that they were unsupported. She hated to be

braless, and was acutely aware that her breasts sagged quite a bit and

would swing around as she moved. She desperately wished she could somehow

hold them still, realizing it was not possible. As she looked at Clarence,

she saw his glance fall to her pubic area, although he made no comment.

She had a thick bush of pubic hair, which she seldom trimmed because she

rarely wore the kind of clothes where stray hairs would show. Now it was

all showing.

Clarence hung up the bag on the clothes rack, then opened the door and

led the now nude woman out into the hall, in the opposite direction from

where she had gone before. After passing stares of the curious, she

arrived at an outside door, which Clarence opened. Outside, a van awaited,

and she was ushered into it.

As she entered the van, she saw her companion-to-be. A younger woman,

of the bronzed skin common to the local population, sat in the van. She

was probably in her late twenties, with dark hair, slender, nice looking

but no outstanding beauty. And she was as naked as Nancy.

The two sat in van, vaguely acknowledging each other, but without any

real conversation. Another policeman joined Clarence, and drove the van

through the streets. Both women sat quietly, covering themselves with

their arms as best they could against the onlookers who constantly sought a

view through the window. They talked only briefly. Nancy learned her name

was Veronica, and this was the first day of her exhibition. She lived

locally, had been married a year earlier, She and her husband needed her

income desperately to survive, and she would lose her job if jailed. She

had been given the option of corporal punishment, and she took it to avoid

jail, but she was facing it with dread.

After about fifteen minutes of driving, they arrived at a compound on

the edge of the town. It was surrounded by a fence with a gate, which the

policemen unlocked and which they drive through, the policemen closing the

gate after them. Nancy noticed a sign beside the gate which read

"Exhibition Dock for Female Convicts", with a piece of paper taped below it

reading "exhibitions today - 2; public admitted after the exhibitions

start". A fairly orderly crowd., mostly men, had begun to assemble outside

the compound.

In the center of the compound was a structure about twenty feet long,

supported by several strong wooden posts, and with a roof. The base of the

structure was about six feet wide, and consisted of a platform rising about

eight inches from the surrounding ground. The platform was filled with

what appeared to be clean white sand, and in it several metal posts could

be seen with chains attached to them. Just below the roof, and running the

length of the structure, was a flat board which also had chains attached.

The space between this board and the sand-covered platform was open.

The other woman was taken out first. She was led up to the platform and

made to stand on the sand-covered area. She was asked to raise her arms

and they were then placed in leather cuffs which were then locked to the

steel chains affixed to the board, now behind her head. Her arms were held

shackled in a position that allowed her some freedom of movement, in that

her hands were only raised to shoulder level, so she could turn and twist a

bit, but she could not touch her torso with her hands, nor could they be

dropped below shoulder level. Then her legs were similarly shackled, being

held loosely about a foot apart. She could move them a bit, but could not

bring them together. She was thus shackled facing out from the platform,

completely exposed and unable to conceal any part of her body with her

hands.

Next Nancy was led out, and fastened into a similar position, facing the

same direction, such that the two women were side by side, about six feet

apart.

Clarence inspected the finished work. He then positioned himself in

front of the two chained women, and addressed them.

"You ladies will now be exhibited, as you are, and we will shortly open

the gates and allow the public in. They are not permitted to touch you,

and must keep away from the dock, but they can look all they want and say

anything they want, as long as it is orderly. A guard will remain to see

that nothing illegal occurs.

"You will find that your discomfort will increase as the day wears on.

It is now just before eleven, and the day will become hotter, and so will

you. You can expect to sweat a lot. You will probably get very tired

standing, and anyone who wants to come can stand and look at your nude

bodies. Your family members may come later and see you, but they cannot

help you in any way. You will be left here for a minimum of three hours

today, if you cooperate well. If you attempt to minimize your discomfort,

you will be left longer. While you are here, you will be given no food,

but once an hour an attendant will give you two glasses of water, which you

can drink through a straw. You are required to drink it, and in this heat

you should appreciate it.

"You may be wondering what other discomforts await you. There is one

more, which will not come from anything we do to you, but which will occur

naturally. Both of you have stomachs full of water, and you will be given

more each hour. You need not fear thirst. You will sweat a lot, and you

should both be hoping to sweat as much as you can. You will lose some of

the water you drank through sweat; but what you do not lose that way will

gradually move down in your body, from your stomach to a few inches below,

and when enough of it has moved, you will very much want to get rid of it.

After you have been here an hour, and after you drink your next glasses of

water, the attendant will allow you to relieve yourselves slightly - to the

extent of no more than half a pint for each of you. He will hold a

measured container under you, between your legs, for this purpose, and he

will tell you when to stop. This is a process that attracts a lot of

attention, and the crowd likes to watch it. This is all the relief you are

allowed - other than a half pint an hour, which is considerably less than

the amount you will drink, you must hold your water. If you let out any

water at any other time, or more than is allowed you- well, look at that

clean, dry, white sand on which you are standing. If you get it wet at

all, we will replace it each time it happens, and add another two hours to

your exhibition time. If you completely relieve yourself without

permission, at any time while you standing here, we will add another day to

your punishment so you can try again. So figure it out; hold your water by

our rules and you are here only three hours; leak, and you may be here as

much as twelve- and we can add additional days if necessary. If you do not

cooperate, you can be returned to the magistrate and will get the maximum

jail sentence. Good luck!"

The gate was shortly opened, and the crowd came in. They were mostly

male, as expected, and they were orderly. They approached as closely as

they were allowed to the two nude women. Nancy noticed that her younger

companion got more of the attention - after all, who wants to look at a

naked woman over fifty with sagging breasts and a bulging stomach and

vein-lined legs when a twenty-something with a slender body is available.

Nancy noted, however, that the men who stood in front of her seemed to

focus mostly on her thick growth of pubic hair, a much richer patch than

that of the younger woman.

Nancy shifted her weight as she could, and tried to make herself as

comfortable as possible. As time passed, she noted that the bloated

feeling in her stomach seemed to have passed, so at least that was one

discomfort ceasing. However, gradually she became aware of the one of

which Clarence had warned them - the water was indeed moving from her

stomach downward. Already she was feeling a need to relieve her bladder.

She did some mental calculation; she had drunk something over two quarts of

water, and she knew her bladder couldn't hold that much, but hopefully it

would be a while before it passed through her and, anyway it was about

ninety degrees and she was sweating, so she would lose some of the water

that way.

A clock was in the compound, in her view, and the two women watched it.

The other woman turned to Nancy and said "Well, forty five minutes are gone

- and gee, I don't know if I can last the next fifteen. I don't see how a

woman your age can do it. I feel like I'm about to burst, and it hurts

so-o-o bad. Can you hold it?" "I'm trying", Nancy replied, "but its mighty

uncomfortable!"

Chapter 3 Watching and Waiting

Ralph, meanwhile, had been told by George Hamran that he would be

allowed to view his wife's punishment, as the sight was open to the public,

but that he wouldn't be allowed to touch her or aid her in any way. He

might get close enough to talk to her, but that would be all the contact

allowed. Photography, incidentally, would be forbidden. He suggested

Ralph arrive at the location shortly before noon, and provided him

directions.

Ralph followed the instructions. At about 11:45, he arrived at a fenced

compound with an open gate, with a sign indicating this was the "Exhibition

Dock for Female Convicts". A large crowd was inside and at the gate, and a

guard was checking people through the gate, a few at a time. Ralph noted

that most of the crowd were male. From his place outside the gate, he

could see that the compound contained a small raised shelter, on which two

figures appeared to be standing, arms partially extended. He couldn't see

them clearly from his distance, but they appeared to be unclothed. The

thought made him shudder.

Ralph waited his turn in line, and was shortly admitted after being

quickly frisked and warned about photography or attempts to touch the

convicts. He could try to talk to them, but only from a distance of

several feet. As he approached the platform, he recognized his wife as one

of the two standing. In a way, he thought, she was a sorry sight compared

to her usual well-groomed appearance. She was absolutely naked, standing

with her arms chained in a slightly outstretched posture and her shackled

legs held about a foot apart. Her shoulders and legs showed their usual

tan from outdoor activity, but her torso was almost white; he noted the

contrast. Her whole body glistened from sweat in the heat of ninety-plus

degrees. With her arms raised, he could see drops of perspiration in her

armpits, and he recalled that she had been warned not to use an

antiperspirant. Her hair was a bit disheveled, but not badly. Her

unsupported breasts drooped a bit, and swung from side to side as she

turned her body, but he noticed the nipples were erect. Her patch of

public hair stood out noticeably, in contrast to the well trimmed patch of

her companion convict. The hair did not hide her labia, slightly open from

her stance with legs apart, and just peeking through was the tip of her

obviously erect clitoris.

After a few minutes, Ralph managed to work his way to the front row

facing Nancy. He noticed that the biggest part of the crowd was drawn to

the younger woman, which made his approach easier. Nancy spotted him at

once, and called to him.

"Nancy!", Ralph returned, "this is unbelievable! I never suspected they

would do anything like this to you! What have you gone through? What can

we do?"

"You don't know what I'm going through, and there's nothing you can do

about it- I just have to get through it, and it will be over quicker if I

cooperate with them. Believe me, I've learned that; but you don't know

what they're putting me through! And I've got three days of it; more if

they think I'm giving them trouble!"

"I can see what you're going through- stripped naked in front of this

crowd! So this is what they meant by 'being exhibited' - I never guessed..

Did they strip you here?"

"No - not here - but it might just as well have been here. This

morning, I had to appear in a courtroom in my bra and panties; thank

heaven, not like this! Then I had to leave even them at the station and

they drove us here. Ralph, you don't know the half of it; the real torture

they're giving us you can't even see; but oboy, can I feel it!"

"What have they done to you? There was to be no permanent harm, and you

couldn't be beaten- "

"Ralph, listen to me! Before I left the station, they made me drink

over half a gallon of water. My stomach was sloshing around as I walked.

They're going to make me drink more every hour. And I'm not allowed to

pee, except for about a small glassful at the end of each hour. If I leak,

they'll add two hours to the time I'm standing here. That's what the white

sand is for - so they can tell if we cheat! You can't see it, but I've got

one really full bladder that I'm trying to control - it's already stretched

so much it it's getting painful! I'm trying, but I don't know if I can

hold it, and if I don't, I'll be here a lot longer!"

Shortly after twelve, Clarence appeared at the gate and made his way up

to the platform. He stood on the platform and approached Nancy. "Mrs.

Johnson", he began, "it's time for your drink and your allowed relief if

you need it. But first, I need to check you to be sure you are reaching

the desired conditions. Please hold still for a moment - I am not going to

touch your private parts, but I do need to feel the front of your abdomen

to check your discomfort level." With that remark, he placed his hand on

her abdominal region, just above her public hair, and pressed slightly.

She grimaced visibly. "Please don't push there" she said.

Clarence smiled. "I am required to check to see if the water is having

the proper effects. You feel nice and full. Are you? " Nancy's response

was quick and pained, "very, very full - and please don't press on it".

Clarence felt her abdominal region again, gently, and commented, "I expect

it is painful for you. It is supposed to be. It will probably do for

now."

He moved to the other woman, and gave a similar check. Nancy could hear

only part of his discussion with her, but it was obvious that she was

trying to convince him she was in serious pain. He seemed satisfied,

motioned to a an attendant following him, but returned to Nancy.

"Mrs. Johnson, I realize you are feeling severe discomfort. But I must

compare it to what we have experienced with others and insure your

treatment meets the standards of painful corporal punishment. I just

checked the other woman, as you know. She is a smaller woman, and her

bladder is smaller. But it is harder than yours, and has expanded almost

to her navel. It is no doubt causing her more pain. Nevertheless, you are

an older woman, and you may have more difficulty in controlling an

overdistended bladder, if it does expand up to your navel. But I must

compel you to try. Because of these conditions, I am going to restrict

your relief to a quarter pint right now, and also require that you drink

three glasses instead of two. In another hour, if you've hardened

adequately, I will allow you the normal relief."

Nancy was considerably taken aback, although she realized Clarence was

doing his job as politely as he could. She didn't think she could tolerate

more distention of her bladder, but clearly she was going to be forced to

try. The attendant approached, carrying three glasses of water and a

straw. The straw was held to her lips, and, reluctantly, she began to take

in the liquid. It seemed an eternity before she managed to empty all the

glasses, while her lower body squirmed in torture. She desperately wished

she could at least put her legs together to help her hold back, or had a

free hand to clutch her lower body.

When she was finished drinking, the attendant approached Veronica with a

plastic container, obviously a half pint capacity. The crowd surged

forward to see her relieve herself, and Nancy dreaded the approaching

moment when they would be watching her attempt to perform this most

personal act. The attendant emptied the container, then approached Nancy

with a container about half the size. It looked to Nancy awfully small and

would give her little relief at all. He simply held it under her, while

standing to one side so the crowd could have an unobstructed view. "You

can let go," he said, " I will tell you when to stop. I warn you, it won't

be much". She tried to relax her sphincters, but it took a while before

her body would cooperate. Finally a few drops appeared, then rapidly

becoming a strong stream of almost clear urine. Almost immediately, the

attendant cried, "Stop! Stop! That's all you are allowed for now!". With

a great effort she forced her muscles to close off the stream. It seemed

to her that the process had afforded her not much relief at all - her

abdominal area still ached terribly.

She looked around for Ralph, but the movement of the crowd had carried

him away from her, and she was not certain if he was still in the compound.

She gazed at those who were now closely inspecting her, and who had just

watched her limited urination. There was a man therewith a small boy,

perhaps eight or nine, and she wondered that children were allowed to watch

this spectacle. Evidently the man was the boy's father, she gathered as

she caught glimpses of their conversation. From the words she picked up

and the gestures she saw, she gathered that the man had brought his son to

give him a lesson in female anatomy, with Nancy as the model. She figured

out that they were discussing her pubic hair, and the boy wanted to know

why it wasn't turning grey, as was the hair on her head. She had never

really thought about grey pubic hair.

For a moment she was able to converse with the girl beside her, and

learned that she was being punished for petty theft - shoplifting. Also,

she felt much better after being allowed her half pint relief, and felt she

could now go another hour, although her bladder was far from empty and

still very uncomfortable. Nancy wished she could have had even that much

relief. She wondered at her ability to achieve the level of discomfort

Clarence seemingly expected.

It was hot. Sweat streamed from both of them. Nancy could smell the

sweat from her underarms and knew she wouldn't seem very nice to be close

to. Her arms were tired. Her midriff itched, and both legs had aching

muscles. Her breasts felt strange from lack of support and from quivering

constantly with every movement. At one point a fly sat on one nipple, and

she was unable to quickly dispatch it. A man in the crowd pointed to it

with amusement. There was at least an hour and a half to go. Nancy's

discomfort was increasing as the the pain in her bladder returned with

greater severity. She clenched her muscles to try to prevent even a drop

of leakage.

Shortly before one o'clock, Clarence appeared again. This time he

approached the girl first, asked her a few questions, briefly touched her

abdomen. He moved to Nancy. Without a word, he placed his hand on her

abdominal area, just below the navel, and pressed. Nancy grimaced

noticeably. He moved his hand down to the border of her pubic hair and

pressed again.

"Well", he said, "you're making progress. I bet you didn't know you

could stretch your insides that much. It's getting close to your navel.

I'll allow you your full half pint relief this time. If you make it

through another hour without a leak, you will be through for this day.

Before we take you down, though, if you make it, we'll let you empty your

bladder into a pitcher. If we don't get at least a quart out of you then,

I'll have to increase your water dosage tomorrow. My instructions are that

a woman of your size, to achieve the right pain level, should spend her

second day holding at least a quart inside her most of the time."

Clarence left after this rather distressing announcement. Ralph again

was able to approach Nancy, but not close enough to do much conversation.

Besides, Nancy really didn't feel like talking at that point. Everything

hurt, especially her very painful bladder, which she dared not release.

She writhed constantly, seeking some comfortable position, and none was to

be found. She tried desperately to bring her legs together, straining

against the shackles. She constantly twisted her upper body, causing her

breasts to swing and bounce. She was sweating profusely. Her arms were

tired, more than tired, and her muscles ached from their forced positions.

Her armpits stank, and she was aware of it. Her hair was a mess. Her feet

itched. Flies and gnats sat on her from time to time, attracted by her

body odors and the sweat pouring out of her.

Her own torment had gotten so bad she had become oblivious to the plight

of the girl chained with her. Suddenly she turned, attracted by the sound

of the girl groaning audibly. She began saying, "please - please - I've

got to pee, I can't hold it any longer, I don't care what do to me, I just

can't hold it" . Seemingly she was expecting some response from the

attendant, but all she got was the attention of the crowd. Nancy turned to

watch her, and, suddenly, a long, powerful stream of liquid shot out from

in front of her, which quickly turned into spray at various angles dousing

the front of the platform and even some of the crowd in front of her. The

stream continued, becoming a real torrent, gradually soaking into the sand

as she finally emptied herself. Other than the gleeful expressions on men
in the crowd, there seemed to be no official response.

Nancy knew she was tempted to obtain release the same way. Her body

hurt terribly, and her distended bladder was extremely painful. As she

looked at the clock she knew had only twenty minutes to go. She remembered

what Clarence had said about having to hold at least a quart, and she

really wondered how much she could have in her. She had never thought of

trying to measure her bladder capacity, but she recalled reading that

adults usually could hold 400 - 600 ml, which would be a bit over a pint.

What would a quart feel like? She hoped, indeed, that she was feeling it

now. How could it be any worse?

She watched the clock almost half-consciously. Ralph was still around,

now watching his wife as she appeared in real agony. He wondered how many

of the men watching knew how the women were being tortured, and if they

were aware of the water they had to drink before being exhibited. He

suspected some knew, some did not. He moved to the side of the platform,

and saw Nancy in profile. For the first time, he noticed the significant

bulge in her abdominal region, the evidence of an overdistended bladder.

He also noted how much more her pubic hair extended out as compared to the

younger woman, whose was obviously trimmed. He noted the sweat pouring

down his wife's sides and over her hips. He wished he could somehow help

her through this torture.

Finally the clock moved to the end of the hour, and Clarence immediately

moved to see the girl. He knew she had lost control, and told her she had

two more hours to serve. In addition, she would have to be exhibited again

tomorrow as her extra day. She was a bit irritated and incoherent, but he

left her in her position, as he motioned the attendant to bring her the

required water. Nancy continued to writhe and now was moaning slightly

through clenched teeth. He made her wait while the girl received her

water. Then he had the attendant bring a large calibrated pitcher which he

held under Nancy's genitals. At this point a crowd of watchers drew to the

area in front of Nancy to watch the show. He told Nancy, "you can let it

all go, now!". Nancy hesitated not a second. She begin to drip, then

produced a forceful stream. She tried to remain still while the blessed

relief occurred.

men watched, almost in awe. The force of her stream was great, and the

color almost clear, just a bit yellowish. The attendant continued to hold

the pitcher as it filled. Earlier, Nancy would have felt only humiliation

at having to urinate in public, but now she felt only relief. As the pain

subsided, though, she began to flush with embarrassment as she saw the many

people watching her bladder empty. It seemed to her the stream went on for

minutes, and then gradually it subsided.

Clarence watched as the attendant held up the pitcher. The contents

came to 31.5 ounces, just half an ounce short of a quart. He pointed this

out to Nancy, still chained. "You're just a bit short, but awfully close.

I'm sorry, but tomorrow we will have to increase your water intake to force

you to hold a little more. But you're through for the day, which is more

than I can say for your companion. We'll take you down, now."

Nancy almost collapsed into the van, after was was released from her

shackles. While the other prisoner remained chained to the dock, she was

driven back to the police station. On arrival there, she was directed to a

small room with a barred door. The room contained a cot, a table, a toilet
and sink. "You will be here for the night. A meal will be brought to you

later. You may wear these, now". He handed her the plastic bag which

contained her panties and bra. "May I bathe? I really need a bath or

shower - I'm so dirty! And I really stink!" He shook his head. "You may

wash yourself as you can in the sink. We do not provide showers or baths.

After your release, in two days, you will leave and can clean up as you

wish. Also, don't ask for a comb or any other articles. Part of the

discomfort you are required to endure is limited bathing, and limited

grooming. But you can sleep until morning. Now, tomorrow, exhibition will

be in the afternoon, starting at one o'clock You will be given a breakfast

in the morning, and you will be allowed out in the fenced yard for exercise

for an hour. It is visible to the public through the fence, and I can

allow you no clothing other than the undergarments you have. At least you

will not be nude here. You will get no lunch, tomorrow, though. About

eleven we will start filling you with water, and I have to do a better job

of it than I did today. Look, I am really sorry, for you seem to be a

decent woman who has just got herself into an unfortunate jam. But

corporal punishment is what I am expected to do, and that requires

infliction of pain. I have to try and get your bladder stretched more than

it was today, to increase the pain level. You may not be able to hold that

much, and if you can't, then your time to be on the dock will simply be

increased. You really have a choice - either try to endure more pain, or

choose to relieve yourself when it's unendurable and be resigned to

spending a lot more time chained there nude, in front of that crowd."

"I'll try to endure more, but I don't know if I can", Nancy said

thoughtfully. "But I have to try, because I simply can't take the

exhibition business any longer than I absolutely have to."

Nancy was exhausted. She was dirty, smelly, and her muscles ached. She

tried to clean herself up as best she could in a small sink and with a

small bar of soap. She tried to straighten out her hair with her hands. A

fairly decent meal was brought her, and she fell asleep, exhausted and

aching.

CHAPTER 4 The Second Day

The next morning, she was awakened a seven by the arrival of a breakfast

tray. She ate, and again tried to wash herself a bit. A policeman asked

if she wanted to go out in the yard for a bit of exercise; she said yes.

He led her, attired in just her panties and bra, through the police station

and to a small fenced in yard outside a door. She was ushered outside, and

the door locked behind her. Soon she found that she was the object of

interest of a number of people, including neighborhood children, who had

gathered to look at this woman walk around the yard in her brief underwear.

But there was no escape, and Nancy was resigned to being on view. At least

it was not as bad as being chained naked. After an hour, she the door

opened and she was returned to her room.

Shortly before eleven, Clarence came to her door and unlocked it. "Time

to go and get ready for the day's activities. You can leave your pants and

bra in here, until we come back. And if you haven't used the toilet in the

last few minutes, I suggest you do before we go."

Nancy had now had her modesty violated so often it no longer shocked

her. While Clarence stood and watched, she removed her two garments and

left them on the table, then sat on the toilet and relieved her bladder for

what she expected would be last time for many hours. As she flushed, she

announced, "I'm ready" .

Clarence escorted her, naked, down the hall to the room where she had

been prepared before. On the table was the large pitcher of water and a

glass. "Mrs. Johnson, you understand what we have to do with you today.

We have almost two hours before you go on exhibit, and I need to get as

much water into you as you can hold, before then. I want you to start

drinking, and I have to watch you, to be able to certify that you have been

properly prepared for the punishment. We gave you a bit over two quarts

yesterday, and you urinated just less than a quart at the end. I need to

get three quarts into you today, and I hope that by the time we stand you

up on the exhibit your bladder will already have a quart in it. I can

tell, because that should cause the hardness to extend nearly to your

navel, and your abdomen should be bulging slightly. You should be

experiencing considerable pain, but your bladder will continue to fill. I

doubt you can hold it for another hour, but I have to put you to that

test."

Nancy began drinking, realizing that she was being required to bring on

her own torture. She dreaded what the afternoon would bring; and knew she

was going to experiencing severe pain all afternoon because of what she was

doing now. But there was no way out - no way would she accept being

chained naked for several more days on that dock!

She consumed the entire pitcher, two quarts, while Clarence observed

her. He then took the pitcher and brought it back full (two more quarts).

"You told me three quarts - not four!" Nancy exclaimed. "and my stomach is

so full now, I can hardly hold any more. Can you give me a few minutes and

then let me try to take some more?" Clarence answered, "Take your time. I

need for you to get another quart inside you before we go. We have about

forty minutes before we have to go. I suggest you stand up and walk a bit

to help the water settle." "May I go outside for a bit?" "No. I am not

allowed to leave you unguarded, to insure that you do not throw up,

urinate, or otherwise relieve yourself. "

Nancy stood and tried to walk around the room. Her stomach was full of

water, and she could even feel it rolling around inside her. Her stomach

felt, and looked, bloated. She ran her hands over her midsection, feeling

the distention and the liquid inside her. After a few minutes, she took

another glass of water and began to slowly drink it while she remained

standing. She had now been drinking for about an hour, and already she was

feeling a slight desire to urinate; something she knew she would not be

allowed to do.

Another policemen called to Clarence that the other prisoner was ready

and loaded into the van. He motioned to Nancy to finish the last glass,

leaving the pitcher half full. He figured that made the three quarts.

The ride to the exhibition dock was increasingly unpleasant for Nancy.

The same young woman who had been exhibited with her yesterday was again in

the van. She had lost control the previous day and wound up spending four

additional hours on exhibit, plus an extra day today. Today she was

miserable, and in tears. She had been given only two quarts against the

three quarts Nancy received, but she anticipated another loss of control

and more extended time chained up. Nancy began to doubt if she could hold

herself long enough to avoid an involuntary loss of water. It was now a

few minutes before one, and she wouldn't be allowed to urinate for over an

hour, and then only half a pint - a sixth of what she had drunk! Her

stomach was most uncomfortable with the water distending it, and she could

feel it shifting within her whenever the van turned a corner. A bit

farther down, her bladder was sending stronger signals asking for relief.

Clarence had told her that her discomfort was being intentionally

increased, and it was indeed.

At the Exhibition site, the two nude women were again taken up to the

platform. While the girl was being secured, Clarence produced a new

surprise for Nancy. He called the attendant forward, and instructed him to

bring one more "large" glass of water for Nancy, "just to make sure we get

the required results". Nancy was astounded, but Clarence explained, "if

you can't drink it right now, he will give it to you gradually as the water

works its way out of your stomach. But you are to drink it."

Nancy was secured in place. This time, her legs were spread a bit

farther apart, about two feet, as Clarence explained, "to increase your

discomfort, and make it just a bit harder for you to hold your water. We

have to make up for yesterday. A few minutes after being chained in place,

Nancy finished the water glass. Almost at the same time, Clarence felt her

abdomen. "It's swelling up nicely, today. Does it feel full yet, to you?"

Nancy nodded, her mouth full of water. "Good. It will of course get much

fuller as we force it to expand, but this is a good start. We will soon

see if you can hold it another hour". He left.

The crowd was admitted. As usual, the younger woman got most of the

attention. However, somewhat to Nancy's surprise, Ralph was there at the

opening, and came right up to her. After asking about her condition last

night, he asked her directly, "Tell me, what did they do to you this

morning. I hate to see you like this." "Ralph", she answered, "I don't

know if I can make it though today the way I wanted. Right now I'm just

uncomfortable, and there's no real pain; but it's going to get much worse,

and I don't know if I can take it, but I've got to try. I was told that I

didn't have enough pain yesterday to qualify for their standards of

corporal punishment, so today they've done things to make it worse."

"I can see that your legs are spread farther apart- other than that, you

look about like yesterday. You did get some rest?"

"I'm rested, all right. Slept like the dead. But this morning they

prepared me for what will be real torture as the day goes on. My legs are

a little more uncomfortable, but not too bad. That's not really the reason

they spread them; I really think that some of the men complained they

didn't have a good view of my bottom, because I have too much hair, and

spreading my legs gives them a better view. But it also will make my

bladder control harder later."

"It's got to be torture enough just to be exposed like this. You didn't

even want to wear bathing suits off the beach!"

"And look at me now! That's a joke, man- all these guys are looking at

me. And there's no part of me they can't see. Some of them go around the

back and look at my butt- we're on display on all sides; these people get

full frontal views, profiles, behinds - whatever they want to look at. And

they like to see us shift and squirm. The part I hate most about the

exposure is my topside; you know I never went braless. Now my breasts
droop and swing with every motion I make. You know what it feels like when

your breasts swing loose? No - of course you don't. It may be nice for

some young girl, but when you get to my age, it just feels sloppy, and

unpleasant. "

"You really sound in better spirits. You say you have no real pain yet,

but you are uncomfortable? What's your worst problem right now?"

"I need to urinate!"

"Yesterday they let you, after a while. I guess they make you wait a

lot, like they did yesterday, and having to hold it is part of the torture.

You told me yesterday they made you drink a lot of water before you came

out here- "

"Ralph, yesterday they made me drink two quarts at the station, and two

big glasses every hour out here. Today, I had to drink over three quarts

there and a little more here. I haven't urinated for about two hours, and

I've now got almost a gallon of water in me. And when I am allowed to pee,

it's only half a pint every hour. Ralph, how much do you think a woman's

bladder can hold? How much could yours hold? "

"Yesterday, I saw you when they let you empty yourself just before you

left - you filled a big pitcher. I don't know what I could hold, and I

really don't want to find out!"

"I have to find out - and I will today. And it's going to hurt a lot.

They've set me up so that later on I'm going to have endure awful pain in

my bladder; and even then I don't see how I'm going to be able to hold it

enough to avoid getting my time lengthened. Every time I have a leak, or

pee more than I'm allowed, I get an added two hours of being the star

attraction in this naked show, with cramps and sore muscles from the chains

in addition. If they think I've completely relieved myself, they'll add

extra days. Do you know how much it can hurt when you have this

overwhelming desire to urinate, but you have to just hold it and make your

bladder stretch? And do you know how it feels when you finally get a

chance at relief, and when you've peed out a little, you get ordered to

stop and go back to holding it? This is what I have to go through.

Yesterday, I had almost a quart in me when I nearly filled that pitcher,

but they thought it wasn't enough. Today they want to make me hold that

much almost all of the time I'm up here. I can't even put my legs

together, or use my hands. Even right now, my bladder feels awfully full,

and it's starting to really hurt- but I've got to wait another half hour

before I get even a little relief."

Nancy was obviously getting worse by the minute. She tried to distract

her feelings by watching the crowd around the platform. While mostly male,

there were a few women. Two middle aged women came close to Nancy and

looked closely at her breasts, while from the gestures and bits of

conversation she heard, the women were comparing their own anatomy to hers.

A few tried to talk to the women. Several times Nancy was asked her bra

size, usually she ignored the remarks, but the last time she sarcastically

replied, "I don't wear one". Men, many of them aware of the torture

methods being used on the women, occasionally asked her if she needed to

pee. When they were polite, she sometimes nodded.

Five minutes to one. Nancy felt like she was hiding a watermelon in her

bladder- it felt stretched almost beyond belief. She longed to pull her

legs together, and strained against the shackles. She called on all her

abdominal muscles to help her sphincters restrain themselves. She fidgeted

constantly, moving to try to find some position that offered comfort.

Clarence approached her. "How do you feel?" he inquired. "Miserable"

was the reply, "it hurts so bad - but its what you wanted! I don't know if

I can hold it. I guess you really want me to let go and have to spend an

extra day here, don't you?" "No, Mrs. Johnson, I really have no wish to

prolong your punishment. I really do hope you can get it over in the three

days. I'm hoping you really can hold yourself and avoid the extra time,

but I have to make sure that is very painful for you - that is what

corporal punishment is all about. Now, I'm sorry for your sake, but I need

to feel your bladder to see whether it's distended enough. If it isn't, I

can of course cancel your limited relief and just give you the water

instead." He reached down and firmly pressed on her body just below her

navel, then palpated the entire area down to her line of pubic hair. She

winced and squirmed under his touch.

"Mrs. Johnson, I can feel your bladder almost up to your navel, and

it's starting to bulge out just a bit. In this job, I have had to check a

number of women with badly distended bladders, and I would guess that

you're holding close to a quart. Considering the amount of water we gave

you, I think it's fair to allow you your half-pint relief. Your bladder

will probably fill by that much in the next ten minutes, anyway, and it's

got a lot more stretching to do if you're going to get through this without

any unauthorized leak. We're going to try and keep over a quart in you

down there, but you're going to do a lot more filling unless you really

start sweating it off. I've never found a woman who could stretch her

bladder to two quarts, and you may have to come close to that to avoid any

penalty time. But I give you credit - you're one determined lady, and you

have good muscle tone for your age."

Nancy took the two glasses of water as quickly as she could swallow
their contents, not that she was thirsty or needed the water, but she

desperately needed even the limited relief to her urinary system that would

follow. A minute or two after she finished the water, the attendant came

and carried a half pint container, which he started to hold under her. A

man in the crowd called to him, "do the other one first! We all want to

see the girl pee! Make this one wait a little longer!" Obviously, the man
was known to the attendant, for he nodded and left Nancy. He attended to

the young woman, giving her water and allowing her the use of the urine
container while Nancy waited in something approaching agony. To be that

close to relief, and to have it snatched away, even for a few minutes, was

adding to the torture.

When he got back to nancy, he stopped for a moment and spoke to the man
in the crowd in a low voice, though Nancy could just overhear it. "Want me

to tease her a little? Watch this!" the attendant said.

He placed the container under Nancy, then said "OK, start it up. You

look like you've got plenty of pee in you!" Nancy released her bladder, and

after just a few drops, the attendant told her "Look, lady, you're so full

it comes out too fast. You can't exceed the half pint, and I have to catch

it all. So just let out a little at a time, then stop it; if you do it in

spurts I'll tell you when you're at the full mark." Nancy tried to comply,

but each time she had to stop her flow, the pain surged within her.

Somehow she managed to get through it, and released her half pint in a

series of short spurts. In her mind, she was cursing the experience,

conscious that she was being subjected to repeated efforts to cause her

more torment.

Clarence was right. Twenty minutes after being allowed her relief, the

pain was worse than ever. She was also more tired. Her arms ached from

their extended positions, partly because she sometimes shifted her weight

to them to ease the strain on her legs, uncomfortably spread. It was

hotter than ever, and the sweat poured down her body (a blessing, she

thought; if she could just get rid of enough water this way). She could

feel the sweat running down between her hips and over her breasts. Her

feet were tired because in the more spread position, she was less able to

shift her weight and move them.

Ralph, watching in crowd, suddenly was distracted by the arrival of a

uniformed officer, carrying a camera. He motioned for the crowd to allow

him space close to the platform, and from close in he proceeded to begin

taking pictures. Ralph was horrified at the thought of his wife finding

her picture in some newspaper, showing her in her present state. He looked

to the guard standing nearby. "I thought photography was prohibited here?

What's he doing?" The guard responded quietly, "He's the official police

photographer. He has to make pictures of each convict, both front and back

and from the side. The pictures are not made public, but are kept in the

police files to show how the convict appeared. We try to get them at their

worst. The pictures are used only if there is a complaint or official

investigation later. No one else can get them, not even the convicts

themselves. If anyone else shows up with a camera it is confiscated and

the film destroyed. We do not allow this place to be used to make illicit

photographs."

The photographer stood in front of Nancy, after photographing Veronica.

He took several photos of her, full front, squirming and all; then also

photographed her in profile, and then her backside. She saw him, worried

as was Ralph, over who might see them.

But her worst torment continued to be her bladder. What genius, she

thought, conceived of this torture as an alternative to flogging for women!

Maybe flogging would be easier, because at least it would be over quickly.

What she had to endure was going on for hours. Moreover, those watching

couldn't tell the depths of her pain, because there was no whip, no blood,

no lash marks, no piercing screams from sudden strokes. The pain she had

to suffer was internal, and the onlookers could only perceive it from her

facial expressions, the writhing movements of her body, and her vocal

complaints. All they could see, and some of them looked careful to detect

it, was the bulge of her abdomen, harder to see from the front, but

detectable by those who viewed her in profile.k Nancy, of course, couldn't

see this subtle symptom of her condition, but she was reminded of it when

two of her viewers, standing at the end of the platform, commented on it.

"Look, now her tummy's sticking out farther than her hair", said one. "And

she's got a lot of hair down there. But her stomach's kinda fat, too.

Maybe that's all you're seeing. " "No. Look carefully. Her stomach's got

a bit of flab, but it's up higher, behind her belly button. The bulge you

see now is bigger than it was an hour ago, when it didn't stick out as far

as the hair below it. Now its pushed out beyond the black hairs. That's

her bladder - it's really full of pee! They must really give these gals a

lot to drink before they string them up!" "I heard this one say she had to

drink almost a gallon! Boy, I bet she'd like to let it out. But they give

them an awful penalty if they pee." "That's the real punishment here,

besides being strung up with nothing on! They have to hold their pee until

it hurts them mighty bad."

Nancy could hear the conversation, and the two continued to discuss her

anatomy. After a few minutes, they came around to stand in front of her.

Nancy was fidgeting rapidly, shifting her weight around and squirming. Her

abdominal muscles twitched in her continual efforts to restrain her

sphincters. She turned her face rapidly, grimacing with pain. But she was

able to look at the men, and one of them spoke to her. "Hey, lady, we can

see your misery, but what's the real pain you're feeling. Are they

stretching your arms too much? Are you legs sore? You itch? What's

really bothering you the most?" Nancy was really in no mood to satisfy

their curiosity, but neither was she prepared to argue. She thought they

at least sounded sympathetic. "I need to pee! I need to pee so goshawful

bad!" One turned to the other and remarked, "See, I told that was her

bladder that's bulging! I wonder how much longer she can hold it? Hey,

lady - have they got you plugged up with something, or are you just holding

it?" "I'm not plugged - maybe it would be easier if I was - I have to hold

it!"

Ralph appeared again and called to his tortured wife, "Nancy, I hate to

see this, but you're doing great. How are you feeling, or should I ask?"

"Ralph, it's awful -awful. My muscles are about to give out, and Ralph, I

don't want to leak; I don't want to - but this - this is real torture.

Someone said I'm bulging out because - because - Ralph, go around to my

side and tell me if I'm really sticking out where my bladder is - they said

it's sticking out farther than my hair- please look! I must look all

distorted!"

Ralph moved to view his wife in profile. It was really hard to see her

pelvic area clearly in profile, because she was squirming so much. "Nancy

- you've got a bulge all right, you look all swollen up from your hairline

up to your navel. Nancy - I hope you don't damage yourself trying to last

through this. Maybe it would be better for you to accept some more

time..."

Nancy almost screamed "No - No - I've got to hold..." But she was

writhing in agony. As her body squirmed and turned, her dangling breasts
bounced around rapidly, putting on quite a show for the watchers. She was

trying to jump up and down in her torment, and this made her breasts move

even more wildly.

Three o'clock. Clarence came around for his regular check. He palpated

the other woman first, then motioned to the attendant to bring her water

and relief container. Then he came to Nancy. He looked at her, squirming

and writhing in obviously agony, with her abdominal area now bulging

noticeably, pain written all over her face. But she hadn't peed a drop.

He used both hands to feel her swollen abdomen, careful to feel down to the

hairline but not below. He spoke to her, "Mrs. Johnson, I can't

completely check you unless I feel in the area of your pubic hair, because

you have expanded so much. I won't touch your private parts, but I do need

to feel a bit lower - please try to hold still." He slid his hand briefly

across the upper part of her pubic hair. "Mrs. Johnson, you're doing

fine. I wouldn't have expected you to have either the muscle control or the

pain tolerance to hold your bladder this full - and it is extremely full. I

would guess that you are probably holding well over a quart, which will

meet our requirements. I don't think I have ever encountered a woman your

age with this amount of bladder control. Of course you are entitled to

your half pint of relief, once you drink your two glasses. If you can make

it another hour, and when we empty you get get over a quart, we won't have

to increase your water dosage for tomorrow." He motioned to the attendant,

and audibly instructed him, "Don't tease her this time. Let her do it all

at once. " Nancy was grateful. She sucked on the straws and got the water

inside her as quickly as possible, even though she could not hold herself

still in the process. Two or three times she had to let go of the straw to

move and groan. Finally, he held the container under her and told her to

"let some out". She complied, but for just a few seconds. At his command

she forced her sphincters to stop the flow, and he held up for her

inspection the half-pint container, full of almost clear pee. Nancy was

surprised at the color, and remarked, painfully, "that came from me?" "Sure

did" Clarence commented, "you produce some of the clearest stuff we've

seen. That extra quart did it - the extra dilution, you know."

One hour to go! The half pint relief she could hardly detect, and her

muscles were giving out. All the writhing and squirming was creating aches

and irritations. She saw Ralph and called to him. "Ralph - look at me

from the side - am I still as swollen? Gee, it hurts so bad, and I'm

running out of muscle power." She was breathing hard and becoming

exhausted. "Please, Ralph, look me over and tell me how I look. I don't

know if I can take it another hour, but I've just got to try - if I can,

then I've just got one more day of this torture. If I blow it, I may be

here for days, because I don't think I could do any better tomorrow..."

Ralph looked at his wife closely. "Nancy, I think you might be leaking a

little... no, no, it's just that you weren't wiped off after you let out

your last allowance, it's drying up --- but your hair is getting soaked

with your sweat. You still have a sizable bulge - you look a mess! ...

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that.... you're sweating a lot, which is

good, -- I've got to see behind you - sorry, I can't get close to you;

Nancy, you're putting on quite a show - there are dozens of people watching

you from all sides."

"How's the other one doing?" Nancy managed. "She's pretty good- not

near as bad as you are. But they didn't give her as much water. She's

hurting, but gosh, she's not performing like you.." Nancy vaguely realized

she was making a show - not that she cared, all that she really wanted was

to somehow tolerate the intense pain in her abdomen for what was now about

forty minutes. If she could just do it! The writhing, twisting,

grimacing, probably didn't relieve the pain, but the crowd had not seen

another woman go through this agony without relieving herself. Actually,

Ralph realized, the crowd was partly sympathetic. They were really

cheering for her, hoping she could last. Others, obviously, were just

enjoying the view of a naked woman in torment.

Twenty minutes to go. Nancy said, to no one in particular, "I'm not

going to make, I'm, I'm starting to leak! Oh, if only I could put my legs

together, maybe I could hold it, Oh, Oh, anything, but...I... when you're

this close..." Nancy didn't know who was listening, and she was in such

pain that her words were becoming incoherent. Someone in the crowd called

out, "Give her a chance!!" Another called "keep the show going" . The

crowd took up the call.

Clarence appeared, motioned for quiet and call the guard forward. Quiet

reigned. He went up to Nancy, now a study in writhing motion. He spoke to

her, "Mrs. Johnson, you seem to have a lot of sympathizers. I'm going to

offer you a bit of relief if you'll take it with a price. Interested?"

"What ... have I got..." her voice trailed off. Clarence motioned for

the attendant to come forward with a container. "Mrs. Johnson, I am going

to allow you to let out a whole pint right now; but you've got to agree to

an extension. If I allow you this, you must stay here an extra hour, which

means an hour and a quarter from now, with no further relief, and you must

drink a quart of water instead of just two glasses. And two more.... "

"Yes, OK, anything, but let me do it ... now. Tell me the rest while I'm

peeing..." Her eyes were closed in a grimace, her face contorted. As the

attendant placed the container under her, Clarence continued, "Remember,

the object is for you to be in pain. Just a pint now, no more! You get

water after that until you've drunk a quart, and no more relief for another

hour and fifteen minutes. And the other two things: your legs are to

spread wider, by another foot, to stretch those muscles you use for

control; and finally, if you don't produce at least a quart at the end, we

add an extra day to the exhibition. Agreed?"

Nancy responded immediately, "Agreed - agreed. Yes, yes. I've got

to.." She was almost ecstatic with the feeling of actually allowing her

bladder to discharge even a small part of its contents. But her mood was

changed quickly with the attendant's order "Stop! that's all for now!" .

Having completed this service to her, he unshackled her right leg, moved

it over another foot from the other leg, and reshackled it in the new

position. Meekly she accepted this, her legs now stretched apart quite

uncomfortably, incidentally opening up her genital area noticeably. She

reflected mentally that this was about the most unladylike posture she

could assume! The added effect of spreading her legs was also that her

arms were now stretched higher by several inches, causing her upper body to

be stretched a bit upward, lifting her breasts a bit.

Now the attendant brought the required water to Nancy. A whole quart,

she thought. He brought it to her in successive glasses, putting the straw

to her lips. She took it as quickly as she could manage, later reflecting

that she might have been able to draw out the procedure and have a bit more

time. Finally she finished, her stomach now feeling just a bit bloated

with its new load.

Veronica was given her water and limited relief, drawing the crowd's

attention away from Nancy. Now she was feeling discomforts from all her

parts. Her arms complained of the stretching, her legs hurt from their

widened stance, the sweat fell into her eyes, and she could smell the odor

from her own armpits. But no discomfort matched the ache, the hurt, the

feeling of her poor overdistended bladder, stretched what she would have

thought was beyond its limits.. She reflected that a new quart of water

was being pushed into her body by her stomach, which her kidneys would then

quickly pump into her bladder, furthering her distress. If only there was

some way to slow down the process!

She tried to concentrate on the feeling in her stomach, hoping the

bloating would continue as this would mean the water was still there. But

this was not to be. It was now a bit past four in the afternoon, and she

had had no food since early morning. Her stomach and digestive tract had

been given a gallon and a half of water since she last ate, and it passed

quickly through her, and she hadn't been allowed to completely empty her

tortured bladder since midmorning. For hours now, it had been painfully

full. She felt her it protesting every bit of the expansion being demanded

of it, yet she strained to keep her tired sphincters closed. Her abdominal

muscles were also numb, from being held so tight so long.

Nancy was so absorbed in her own distress that she scarcely noticed when

her companion was given her final relief. The crowd watched as the

measuring container was placed below her, and she was allowed at long last

to urinate. It took a long time, and Ralph, was in the crowd near her,

noticed several men turning away with disappointed looks as the contents

rose in the jug. Then he realized- some of those in the crowd were betting

on how much she was holding!

Ralph viewed Nancy from a short distance. Now she appeared as a woman

in real agony, as bad or worse than yesterday. Her squirming was causing

her to strain at the shackles, and her spread legs showed intense muscle

strain. The sweat poured from her, though the temperature had fallen a bit

in the late afternoon. She called to him, seeing him near her. "Ralph,

come..... I need you to look me over.... I feel like I'm leaking... Oh,

please I don't want to leak at this point. The way my legs are spread I

just can't hold myself tight enough...tell me if I'm leaking! I've got to

hold it."

Ralph peered at his wife's wide open crotch, damp with sweat, as was the

rest of her body. She was quivering, her muscles tensed and cramped. He

looked at her from the side, noting the big bulge in her abdominal region.

He wondered at how she could mange to hold herself so tight; but it didn't

appear she was leaking a drop. "You're not leaking, Nancy," he called

back, "but you sure are bulging. You're going to burst something if you

hold any more!"

The clock moved on. At long last, after what seemed an eternity, the

end of her final hour approached. Clarence came toward her, followed by

the attendant with the jug. The crowd pressed forward, one man obviously

holding the bets and looking to see what results she would produce. "OK,

Mrs. Johnson, it's day's end. You made it. You can empty it all out now;

and we'll see how you did."

The jug was held under her. Nancy tried to release her sphincters. Not

a drop fell. Seconds went by, a minute; the crowd was silent. Clarence

just looked at Nancy. "Don't you want to empty yourself?" he asked.

"I..I..I.. can't. My muscles are cramped, and I've been holding them so

tight they won't let go. What do I do now? Oh, but it hurts so bad!"

Ralph looked at his wife, unable to relieve herself, though she was at the

end of the day's ordeal. He called to her, "Nancy, try to relax, try to

let go! Now, you have to!"

The man with the bets looked impatient, and gave a shrug to the crowd.

Two, three, four minutes went by. Finally, a few drops of fluid appeared

at her splayed crotch. It stopped. Two more minutes; a few more drops.

Then, a slight stream. The crowd cheered, as much from their own relief at

the end of their patience, as for Nancy. The stream grew, and became

stronger. Ralph noted it was almost colorless, but it was becoming more

forceful.

Nancy called to Ralph, "Is it coming? I feel like I'm letting out a

little, but, gee, it hurts so bad, and my muscles are so tired, I can't

push..." Ralph tried to encourage her, "You're doing great, it's coming out

strong now..." He could hardly understand her feeling, with her bladder so

overdistended and stretched that it was now having trouble expelling its

contents.

Seemingly minutes went by. Suddenly the attendant called "Stop! Stop!

It's full - I have to get another!" Nancy, in shock, tried to shut off the

stream, but could only weaken it. In seconds he held a second container

under her. The bettors were looking in amazement. Finally, the stream

slacked, and ended. The attendant started to take away the container, but

Nancy protested, "No - I'm not through - there's more!" . Her senses

proved correct, as the stream began again, continued another twenty seconds

or so, and finally stopped. The bystanders were amazed, and some

applauded, some cheered. Nancy reflected that she had never thought a

woman's urination could be a spectator sport, but then she took several

deep breaths, and tried to relax.

As her shackles were released, she asked Clarence, "Did I have enough?"

Clarence smiled at her. "You had enough. Want to know how much?" Nancy

could only nod. "Forty-one ounces. No wonder you had such a bulge. I

didn't think you could hold that much. " Nancy's bladder still ached

intently though the bulge was gone. She almost collapsed as she was led to

the van, then slid into a seat, not speaking, not even conveying a farewell

to Ralph.

At the station, she staggered to her room and fell onto her cot as the

door was locked behind her. She stopped not even to put on her meager

underwear. Almost immediately she feel into a deep sleep, every muscle in

her body exhausted.

Hours later, as she lay there, her consciousness was stimulated by a

signal now all too familiar to her - her bladder was demanding relief. She

tried to delay even opening her eyes, in her now relaxed state, but she

soon decided she could not ignore the message. She opened her eyes. The

room was dark. Outside her one barred window with it was black. Only the

dim light coming through her barred door from light down the hall

illuminated the room. Suddenly she looked at the door. She really had no

privacy; anyone in the hall could look in at her through the barred door.

She had been allowed her underwear, but it lay on the table because she had

collapsed on the cot as she came in. Now she awoke on her back, aware that

she had been sleeping completely uncovered, and that anyone peering through

the door had a good view of her. But her modesty was so severely damaged

by now, she thought, what more would it matter? She rose up, not knowing

how long she had slept. On the table was a glass of something like

lemonade and a sandwich. Not her usual meal, but obviously she had slept

through dinner. The policeman who usually brought her food, had obviously

taken mercy on her and left her a snack for when she awoke. Or, perhaps,

she thought, reflecting that he must have come into the room while she lay

naked on the cot, this was a tip for a good show!

She used the toilet to relieve her bladder, very full from the

continuing effort of her kidneys to recondition her body from its

water-logged state resulting from yesterday's hydration. Yesterday? She

thought- how late is it? She had no way to know. She was hungry, having

eaten nothing since breakfast the previous morning. She consumed the

sandwich and drink, then flopped again on the cot. This time, however, she

slipped on the panties and bra first. Still tired, still aching, dirty and

smelly she knew, but fed and relieved, and a least covered for a little

modesty, she fell again into a deep sleep on the cot.

CHAPTER 5

The Third Day - School

"Mrs. Johnson! Mrs. Johnson! Let's go. We've got a different

program for you today!" She moved wearily, looking up at Clarence, standing

beside her cot. What time was it? She didn't know. It was daylight, she

could see, but it seemed quite early.

Clarence immediately enlightened her. "It's six A.M. I have a change

in program for you. You're still going to be exhibited today, with the

required discomforts, but we're going to make it a bit different. You

won't be going to the exhibition dock, and, at least part of time, you

won't be complaining about the heat. Also, there might be some benefits

for you. Interested?" He was smiling, but she knew by now that Clarence

was going to put her through suffering, anyway. But, at least, he did it

in good spirits and he wasn't mean or nasty. He was about as decent as a

man could be in this job, she reflected. She glanced at her cot - now

dirty and stained from the contact with her body. All the sweat and pain

and dirt, she thought, and I haven't had a bath in days.

Clarence seemingly read her thoughts. "Unless you object to what we've

planned for you today, you will at least get a bath out of it. You know,

you're a mess, and if you don't mind my saying so, your body odor is

getting to be pretty strong stuff. I could make you live in it another

day, you know."

Nancy saw no point in argument. She was feeling a bit hungry, and her

bladder was again calling for relief, still trying to get rid of

yesterday's water. "Tell me what I have to look forward to, and let's get

about it", she said in resignation.

Clarence explained. "You're the only one on exhibition today. Veronica

has to get to the magistrate today for her release hearing, since she

finished her punishment. Frankly, I was hoping she'd be held over, in

which case I would have used her for this, because the school preferred a

younger person. So you know you're second choice. But at least it gets

you off the display on the hot dock."

"School? What school?" Nancy questioned.

"The boys school here sometimes requests that we use a prisoner

undergoing exhibition and discomfort for a day, for their classes. They

have us position the prisoner in the school, where she is exhibited in a

classroom to the boys, for their health and sex education classes. They

use her as a model to explain to the boys female anatomy and some bodily

functions. It's all done with an instructor who keeps the boys under

control. The teacher is usually a woman and the boys in these classes run

about ten to twelve years old. The don't give the teacher a hard time,

ordinarily, and are generally well behaved. But they can be mighty

curious, in a class like this. Such a class gives the boys a chance to

learn about girls directly, and ask questions they would be embarrassed

about elsewhere. We will take you there, but we have a couple of small

problems for you, first."

"Such as?"

"First, you need a bath. You're dirty, and you smell bad. We have to

get you washed up so you will be acceptable in a classroom. We'll let you

take a shower at the boys school, where they have a gym and showers. But

you'll have to let a class of boys watch you. Second, we have to bend the

'no touching' rule a little. When you're on exhibit in front of the class,

the teacher wants to be allowed to let the boys touch you a little, very

gently, and under careful supervision. The areas she wants to let them

touch are your breasts, and your abdomen - that's in and above your pubic

hair, but not your genitals, which they must be allowed to see, but not to

touch.:

"And if I object?"

"Then, back to the platform, the nasty men making bets on your bladder

capacity, the gnats, flies and heat. And no bath. And, I should tell you,

since we finished with Veronica, there will be no one to share the platform

with today, so if we go there, you will get all the attention."

"OK, I'll buy the school deal. I assume I still get the water

treatment. Will the boys know about it? And will I have the chains?"

"Since the school is outside the police enclosures, you will have to be

restrained all the time you are there. I will take you in handcuffs, but I

will take them off once we shackle you. For your shower, I will shackle

your legs while you wash, so you can use your arms. For the classroom

exhibit, you will be loosely chained in a standing position. The

classroom, though, will definitely not be hot, you will be relieved to

know. As for the water, you know I am obligated to keep you with an

extremely full bladder most of the time. I'm not going to start that

before we get to the school, because I'm smart enough to know that you

might sneak some relief for yourself while in the shower. At the school,

we will fill you up with water and I think the teacher will use that for a

class demonstration. Also, at sometime she may use your allowed relief for

a demonstration of female urination for the boys. However, I want you to

understand that your three hours of time today doesn't start until your

bladder is full enough to be hurting you to my satisfaction. We may do

some things to speed up the effects, and make up for some of the

discomforts you are escaping, which you will see later. And, yes, the boys
will be told that you are being punished, and that is why you are chained,

and also that part of your punishment is that your bladder is being kept

very full."

"You've really aroused my curiosity. I can hardly wait to see what

delightful experiences await me", she answered dryly.

"Let's get ready. We need to get there, and it's farther than

yesterday. My man is bringing a quick breakfast to the prep room, where you

were before. Leave your pants and bra in here, and let's go!"

She knew he wasn't going to avert his eyes, so she unhooked her bra and

slipped off panties, as we watched. "May I be allowed a quick pee, or is

the holding torture starting already?" "I won't make you start before

breakfast, today at least. A quick one, OK, right now. But you won't get

another chance until you've met the pain requirements."

She walked with him, completely unclothed and barefoot, to the prep

room, where she found her breakfast tray awaiting. She was left alone for

a few minutes while she ate, then she was handcuffed with her hands behind

her, and taken to a police car, not the usual van. She was placed in the

rear seat while Clarence and a second police officer took the front. They

left the station and drove her through the streets. Instinctively she

sought to cover her as people looked in at her as they passed through dense

traffic, but with hands cuffed behind her, she could not shield herself in

any way, and found herself on the receiving end of constant stares.

At least she was not physically uncomfortable, a condition she was sure

would soon change. After about half an hour, they drew up in front of a

building clearly labeled as "Hamilton boys School". She wondered what sort

of reception she would get. The car pulled around to a building in the

rear, evidently a gymnasium. They parked on a paved area adjoining.

Outside were a number of young boys engaged in various sporting activities,

or simply hanging around. She saw no adults.

The door was opened, and she was ordered out. A group of about twenty

boys gathered around. She flushed, hesitant to step out, lacking even the

ability to use her hands for cover. Roughly, Clarence instructed her to

get out, and go into the building. One of the boys looked closely at her,

and asked "Are you our lesson for today?" At least, the word had got out-

she was expected.

She was ushered into the gym, then across the large room to what must be

a shower room. A number of boys gathered around, but they were quickly

ordered back. Shortly, a woman appeared. Evidently she was the teacher;

nicely dressed in shirt and slacks, hair in a pony tail, well groomed,

looking probably thirtyish. She stopped and looked Nancy over rather

thoroughly. She looked at Clarence, twitching her nose. She didn't touch

or speak to Nancy. "Is this what you're bringing us? She's old, and she

stinks! I though you had a young one. What happened?"

Clarence responded, "Alice, the younger one finished her sentence

yesterday. This is Nancy Johnson, the only one we currently have on

exhibition. She performed rather well at the platform, and I think you

will find quite cooperative. She has been two days at the dock, and if you

gone through that, you'd need a bath and some clean-up too. She's

fifty-four, and I know she has a few lumps and bulges and sags a bit, but

she looked quite nice when she came in - dressed well, groomed well. I

think she'll make a good teaching model for you. You can give the boys a

lecture while she showers, and then she'll look a bit better. .."

Alice was impatient. "I really don't care what see looked like in

clothes, we need her nude and I am only concerned with how her body will

appeal to the boys as lesson material. She looks fairly relaxed - you

haven't started loading her up yet, have you?" "No, we'll do that after the

clean up. I don't want to chance her getting sneaky and letting it out in

the shower. I'll get her so she won't be relaxed, in the way we talked."

"Fine, let's get at it. I'll get my boys in the shower to watch her. I

hope she doesn't mind showing off a bit for them." Alice took Clarence

aside for some further discussion, and Nancy was taken to a spot under a

shower head. Here the policeman produced about a two foot length of chain

attached to a cuff, and and placed the cuff on Nancy's ankle, locking it.

The other end of the chain was locked to a vertical water pipe under the

shower head. He then uncuffed her hands. She was now able to move under

the shower, but only to the length of the chain.

In a few moments, Alice came back and looked at Nancy. "All right,

you'll have to do, even if you're old enough to be their grandmother.

Look, the object of the lesson is to teach the boys something about female

anatomy, so you will now wash yourself as I instruct you, and while the

boys, of which I have twenty two, will stand around you and watch.

Usually, the boys are undressing in here, but today they will not be

changing their clothes, just watching you. Now, as I call them, take some

of the soap, and boy do you need it, and turn on the water. Get it to a

comfortable temperature, because you'll be under it for awhile." Nancy did

as instructed. By the time she had finished, twenty-odd boys were

standing, or sitting, in a semicircle around her, backed up above six feet

or so, just out of range of the shower water. Their eyes were like

saucers, and they were looking her over intently. Alice began her lecture,

using a pointer to indicate parts of Nancy's physical structure. She

instructed Nancy to stand her the water, letting it pour over hair and down

over her body. She was instructed to soap her hair, always keeping her

hands lifted over her shoulders. While she did this, Alice delivered a

lecture to the boys about female breasts. The process continued downward

over her body, as she was instructed to wash various parts. Somewhere in

the process, Nancy tried to inconspicuously pee slightly, so as to relieve

herself while the water camouflaged her activity.

She must have spent twenty minutes under the shower in this fashion,

when finally she and Alice agreed she had been adequately washed. The

water was shut off. Nancy stood, still shackled, under the shower head,

her hair, sopping wet, hanging down randomly. Alice produced a comb for

her, and told her to tidy up her hair. Nancy quickly complied. The

shackle was removed, and her hands were again cuffed behind her. "Don't I

get to dry myself? " Nancy asked, seeing no towel and wondering how she

would handle one with cuffed hands. "Do you feel better?" Alice politely

inquired. "Yes, definitely" Nancy replied. "Well, I think that will be

taken care of quickly", was Alice's retort.

Alice led the boys toward the door and ordered Nancy to follow. She was

soaking wet from the shower, and water dripped from her as she walked. The

group moved across the gym and into a building adjoining, where she was

taken into a large classroom. It was big enough to hold fifty or more

students, for whom chairs were arranged, all in a semicircle around an

elevated platform about a foot high, at the back of which stood a large

post, about six feet high. Steel rings were in evidence about the

periphery of the platform and on the top of the post. It took no

imagination for Nancy to conceive where she would be placed.

The room was well lit with fluorescent lights, and a spotlight was

positioned where it could be turned on the platform. But, literally, the

most chilling aspect of the room was its temperature. It was air

conditioned, and the temperature was turned quite low. Nancy, her wet body

dripping heavily, immediately felt the cool air.

She was not immediately placed in the position she expected, on the

platform. Instead, her hands were released, and one wrist was extended and

cuffed to a ring on the post. She was standing, facing the class, the

cuffed arm extended, but otherwise unfettered.

Alice addressed the class. "As you know, Mrs. Johnson is being

punished for something she did. While she is our visual aid for teaching

today, she is also going to be the object a teaching lesson related to the

stomach and urinary system, which we have been studying about.." She

proceeded for several minutes to review the working of the digestive tract,

in how food and drink passes through the body. She then expanded a bit on

the function of the kidneys in removing excess water, and where it went.

She asked a question, "If we drink a very large amount of water, what is

the effect on the kidneys?" After getting some satisfactory answers, she

went to the function of the bladder. She asked a student to go to Mrs.

Johnson and point to the areas that contained her stomach, her kidneys, and

her bladder. When he had done this, he was told to gently push on her

abdomen and try to feel her bladder. Nancy winced at this, but he was

gentle. Alice allowed several boys to try, and none were sure they could

feel it. "That is because Mrs. Johnson's bladder is empty, and lying

collapsed at the floor of her pelvis (she indicated the area with her

pointer). In fact, I suspect she emptied it during the shower, and we

didn't notice.... is that so, Mrs. Johnson?"

Nancy nodded meekly, not wanted to answer audibly. Alice continued, "I

expected her to do that, because she knew what was coming. Now, boys, what

will happen if Mrs. Johnson drinks a lot of water? I mean, really a lot?"

A boy replied, "Her kidneys will strain it out, and put it in her bladder."

Another piped up, "and she'll want to go to the bathroom!" After listening

to several such comments, Alice continued, "Well, let's see what happens. I

have here a gallon of cold water in two pitchers. Let's get that into her

stomach, and see how long it takes to have an effect on her bladder. And,

Billy, you're right, after a while she will want to go to the bathroom -

really, to urinate - let's use the right words - but because she's being

punished, she won't be allowed to for quite a while. So her bladder will

just have to stretch to hold the water her kidneys send into it."

Alice allowed a few questions from the boys, then said, "While Mrs.

Johnson is filling herself with water, I will let you find out what a

woman's breasts feel like. I explained that they are part muscle and part

glandular tissue, with no bones in them. As a woman gets older, they often

sag a bit from their weight and because the lady's muscles may become

weaker. You will see that hers are sagging a little, and you can't see

under them easily. I'm going to allow each of you to go up to her, very

gently touch one of her breasts, to see how it feels. You may lift it, and

then move it a little side to side, so you can see how flexible it is."

With that, the boys came forward, quite eagerly, and one at a time

performed the examination. Nancy felt humiliated and embarrassed, but she

feared to say anything - she had agreed to allow the touching. Alice also

encouraged the boys to feel her stomach and abdomen, and comment on how

these parts felt to them. As her stomach filled, some of the boys could

feel it expand.

Apart from being felt by the boys, Nancy was experiencing a new

discomfort. She was cold. The air conditioning was quite cool on her damp

body, and she was filling herself with a huge amount of chilled water. She

mentioned to Alice, "I'm cold - really! I know you won't allow me any

clothes, but could the room be a little warmer? I'm feeling chilled!"

"Really?" Alice answered, somewhat mockingly. "And did we promise to

keep you comfortable? I'm quite warm enough, thank you. And finish the

water." "But you're fully dressed, and I'm - well, I'm..." "You're quite

naked, and you are going to stay that way, for your own punishment and the

education of the boys. As for being cold, would you rather be sweating on

the dock outside, like you were yesterday? we don't want you to sweat -

you lose water that way. Right now, we want all that water you're taking

in to go through your kidneys, not your sweat glands."

Nancy tried hard to finish the water. Alice made her jump and twist,

while the boys took turns listening to her stomach with their ears pressed

against it, to hear the sounds of the water gurgling and moving around.

Many of them seemed amused by it. Nancy looked at the classroom clock,

which now showed almost eight thirty. She had managed to down the first

pitcher of water and half of the second, and her stomach was noticeably

distended, and she felt the uncomfortable fullness. "I can't drink any

more. I'm completely full," she told Alice. She got a cold response,

"you've got almost a quart to go. But we have time. And it's time to

change your position".

She was led up the platform and made to stand on it, her back to the

post. Her handcuffs were unlocked, her hands positioned around the post

behind her, then locked on her wrists again. Now she was effectively

fastened to the post; and she could move her legs, or more her body up or

down, but she could not move away from the post. Also, she could not use

her hands.

She had dried off a bit, and, while still cold and having noticeable

goose bumps, the cold was no longer a major discomfort. Her body was

warming the cold water in her distended stomach, and she wondered how she

was expected to drink more water with her hands cuffed behind her.

Her question was answered, when one of the boys held the pitcher up to

her, with a bent straw in it, which Alice slipped into her mouth. "Finish

it" was the command. The boys watched as the water slowly passed into her.

Meanwhile, Alice kept up a running commentary on how her stomach

functioned. Suddenly, she turned to the class. "This lady's bladder was so

empty you couldn't feel it half an hour ago. See who can feel it now!"

Several boys tried, observing that they could, indeed, feel a fullness in

her lower abdomen. Alice questioned them about kidney function and the

urinary system. One boy promptly asked, "When will she let it out? Can we

see her do it?" There was a chorus of other questions. Another asked,

"When it comes out, where will it come from? I can't see the hole where

her pee - I mean her urine - comes out".

By nine, Alice had managed to finish the water. Her stomach felt

terribly bloated, and now her bladder felt full, too. She knew it was

useless to ask to relieve herself, but she soon commented quite loudly,

"That boy was right - I really would like to go to the bathroom." Alice

responded, asking the boys if any had been in a situation where they needed

to urinate but couldn't do so. Several minutes passed while several boys
recited such events. Alice told a story on herself, about traveling in a

car, when there was no rest stop available. Nancy's discomfort was just

getting worse, as she listened. Alice asked the class, "How did you feel,

when you had a very full bladder and you just had to hold it? I'll bet it

hurt, didn't it?" Several boys agreed. "How do think this lady's bladder

feels, now? And, remember, she's not allowed to empty it - right now, she

doesn't know what's coming next, but she knows she has to just keep on

holding it. Do you think it's hurting her? Nancy, tell them how it

feels."

Nancy, feeling growing discomfort turning to pain, tried to explain her

feelings to the class. Having to do this just added, of course, to the

embarrassment.

Soon, Clarence came into the room, announcing he had to check her. He

felt her abdomen, as many of the boys had, and told Alice, "she's filling

nicely, and I'm going to consider that her three hours of discomfort start

now, but she can hold a lot more. She did yesterday. How much did you put

in her?" "A full gallon - she wasn't enthusiastic! And she complains of

the cold, so she's not sweating. Can I do a urination demo for the boys in

a few minutes? She'll fill up again, fast, and I only need to let her pee
a little bit, so the boys can see. OK?"

Clarence agreed, Nancy was pleased to hear. Alice lectured the boys on

how women urinate, and why they usually did so seated instead of standing.

She said, "We can't allow her to sit, but I will let her squat, like women

usually do outdoors, and you can all watch her urinate a little bit. " She

made Nancy squat as she was able, her back straight against the post, and

positioned her legs as wide as Nancy could get them. A dishpan-type

receptacle was found, and placed under her. The boys crowded around.

Nancy was told to urinate, and be ready to stop on command. She let go,

and the boys watched, eyes glued to Nancy's genital area. Alice let them

watch for about ten seconds, then commended Nancy to stop and stand up. Of

course, she had to gradually work her way up the post, cuffed as she was,

but managed. Her bladder felt a bit better, still quite uncomfortable.

The class changed, and a new group of boys brought in, about the same

number. Again, Alice delivered a lecture on female anatomy, and again the

boys were allowed to approach Nancy, gently feeling her breasts, stomach,

and abdomen. Again, Alice explained the process to which Nancy had been

subjected, and invited the boys to feel her distended bladder. After about

half an hour, she was again required to give a urination demonstration,

limited to about ten seconds.

It was now nearly eleven o'clock, and Nancy was now in severe pain.

While Clarence had begun her timing for discomfort at nine, she now hadn't

emptied herself for three hours, except for two ten second discharges.

Clarence checked her again, before the next class started. He arranged for

her to be made to stand, and her hands were uncuffed, but then she was

cuffed to the rings at the top of the post, so she had to stand with her

arms behind her head, in a posture which compelled her to stand fully

erect. Because was both cold and suffering severe abdominal stress, she was

trying to stand with her legs together, a posture which Clarence adjusted

by fastening her legs to the platform rings, holding them spread apart.

She was in a most uncomfortable posture, but her body was ideally exposed

for Alice's teaching. Alice presented her anatomy lesson to the next group

of boys.

Nancy was oblivious to the boys, to Alice, to everything except the

aching, piercing pain in the abdomen from her vastly overstretched bladder.

This was, indeed, the worst it had been so far! She wasn't sweating out

the water, the relief she had been allowed was little, and it was two hours

after she had consumed a gallon of water. Then, in the middle of Alice's

lecture, she called out, "You've got to let me pee! I'm starting to leak,

and I can't hold it any longer - not any longer at all!" Her distress was

real, and she was trying with all her might to clench her muscles tightly

around her urethra to stop the leakage she was feeling, but the internal

pressure was just too great. Tears streamed down her face, as she suffered

the emotional impact of a failure, that she feared might subject her to

another day of exhibition - in the horrid dock, yet!

Alice looked at her lower body, with something approaching contempt, and

addressed the boys. "It looks as though she can't hold it any longer, so

she's probably going to receive an extension on her punishment. You can

see what happens when her muscles tire out, and...., well, get a good look

at how a woman pees involuntarily when she's trying to hold."

Alice placed a pan under Nancy to catch the dripping, then told her,

"Well, you didn't manage to hold it completely. If you only leak a little,

you'll get only a few hours extension. I'm calling Clarence- if I find a

quart of water in that pan, I'm sure he'll give you another day on the

post! I I really didn't think a woman as old as you could pass the test.!"

A few minutes later, with the class eagerly watching the dripping and

observing her contorted expressions and muscular straining, Clarence

returned. He looked at Nancy, sadly shaking his head. "Sorry, Mrs.

Johnson, but I'll have to give you extended time. Look, I know you're

hurting pretty bad, but if you just keep on leaking a little, like you are

now, I'll only give you two extra hours today. Alice, do you need another

short pee demonstration?" Alice shook her head, but the boys obviously

wanted it. "Mrs. Johnson, you're just leaking in spurts. I 'm going to

allow you a fifteen second time to relieve yourself so the boys can get a

good look. If you can stop it after that, you'll only get a two hour

extension."

Nancy tried to release herself. Her muscles were so tensed with the

tight clenching she had been doing, though, they wouldn't quickly relax.

She really couldn't get her bladder to cooperate and start relieving

itself, except for the occasional small spurt. She tried pushing as hard

as she could, but it just didn't work. Clarence was watching his watch.

"Mrs. Johnson, I gave you fifteen seconds, and you haven't really started,

but you are leaking. You have to either to get started or we drop the

idea. I'll give you two minutes to get going, because I realize you are

having trouble."

Alice and the boys were enjoying this immensely. Alice was straining as

hard to release her urine as she had been to hold it. Suddenly her stream

started - she was now pushing as hard as she could to get as much as

possible out in the fifteen seconds allowed her. A torrent poured forth,

splashing all over the pan and the platform.

The fifteen seconds passed rapidly; Nancy was given a countdown, and

managed to stop, with great effort, and just a few seconds late. The pan

was removed, and Nancy was told to stand there as the lesson was resumed.

No one offered to wipe her, and urine drops were left on her legs and

bottom, even on her feet. Somehow, she endured the rest of the time, until

twelve. Clarence appeared, as Alice dismissed the class and the last group

of boys left reluctantly.

He took her off the platform, hands cuffed behind her, as she asked?

"What next? Do I really get two more hours of being displayed like a piece

of meat?" Clarence didn't answer immediately. He felt her abdomen,

checking her bladder. "It should still be hurting you a bit", he

announced, quite unnecessarily. "I'd like to take you for pee
demonstrations on the playground, but it would relieve you too much. I'm

sorry, but I really have no choice but to take you to the Exhibition Dock

for an hour. I think all of us would like to get this over as soon as

possible."

He walked her across the playground to the car, followed closely by

crowd of watching boys. She was ushered into the car, and they drove from

the school.

The drive took a while, and her bladder was more and more painful. She

had been holding her urine so much in the last couple of days she was

beginning to worry that she might be doing herself some internal harm. She

asked, even begged, Clarence to allow her to relieve herself, even

slightly, pointing out that even in the dock, she had been allowed a small

amount of relief every hour. Finally, he relented, "but you will have to

do it here and now!" he snapped, impatiently. The car pulled up to a curb

in a busy part of town. He opened the door, took her out, stark naked, and

told her she had twenty seconds to get as much relief as she could.

She stood, unclad and barefoot, on the hot pavement beside the car,

while numerous bystanders gawked at the sight. The hot street hurt her

feet, and she shifted rapidly from one foot to the other. She tried to

squat, as best she could with the handcuffs holding her hands, and urinated

a forceful stream into the gutter. After a few seconds, Clarence commended

her to stop, which she did painfully, and returned to the car.

The relief did not end her internal discomfort, as the pressure was

still hurting. She sat and rode for another twenty minutes or so, until

they arrived at the dreaded dock. The policemen unlocked the gate, and

they drove inside. Outside, a small group of men, unaware that an

exhibition would take place today, began to turn and look through the

fence.

Nancy was taken from the car. Before mounting the platform, Clarence

unfastened her handcuffs and presented her with a plastic container of

water. "This is one quart, and you are to drink it now. I won't make you

drink more. Just remember, you are not to urinate a drop in the next hour

or you get a time extension. And I am going to lock you into a rather

uncomfortable position, so you will feel the required discomfort." Nancy

was apprehensive, but gulped down the water, thankful that it was her last.

She was stood on the platform, and the shackles attached to her wrists

and ankles. She found out quickly what Clarence meant; her legs were

spread widely apart, and the chains locked to her her in that posture.

Then her two hands were lifted above her head, and locked to the attach

points above her. Clarence inspected his handwork, then signaled for the

gate to be opened and the spectators admitted.

A fairly small group of men, about fifteen, came into the compound, and

stood around the platform, on which Nancy was now the sole bit of

exhibition. Obviously, as this event was unscheduled and unadvertised, the

number available to watch was small, and that lessened some her

humiliation. They stood and looked, moving to get the best view, often

stooping to look up between her widely separated legs.

The position was cramped, and her leg muscles began to hurt. Her

bladder was already painful, and she was starting to sweat profusely in the

heat. She could shift some of her body weight to her arms, at least, and

used this method to lessen the load on her cramped legs. Could she last an

hour? It didn't sound so long, but every minute was becoming torture. She

wondered if Ralph knew what she was being subject to, today.

She watched the clock. The minutes slowly passed. She tried to hold

herself up partly with her arms, and clenched her abdominal muscles to

restrain her bladder.

Finally, the minute hand reached the end of the hour. Clarence stood

by, plastic container in hand. As she squirmed tortuously through her

final moments, he held the container under her, and then announced, "Time's

up! You can let it go, now. Let's see what you have been holding!"

Again it took her almost two minutes to relax her clenched sphincters

enough to permit the flow to begin. The onlookers watched eagerly as her

stream commenced. What would have caused her profound embarrassment a

couple of days ago, now mean only a blessed relief. She pushed her stream

as hard as she could. The men just stared.

At length Clarence declared, "Well, you're getting better. You've

filled this one, let me empty it and get another. Now stop your water.."

She labored to cut off the stream, while a new container was obtained.

Finally she was allowed to release her flow again, and she eagerly did so.

The stream slowed and stopped. Clarence waited a moment. "More?" He asked

her. "Yes - a little more - just a moment.." After a bit of hesitation,

the stream started again, became strong, then stopped finally.

Clarence checked the measurements. "Thirty nine ounces. Not quite as

much as you held yesterday, but it will make the grade. I think you're

finished. Sorry?" She smiled with relief, as the locks were unfastened.

With her legs feeling cramps and her arms exhausted and numb, she was

helped to the car, and collapsed in the rear seat.

She closed her eyes in relief. Oblivious to the stares that came

through the window, she rode back to the police station. As they arrived,

she became very much aware that all of the water had not left her, and she

again felt a need for relief. She was taken to the prep room, and told to

sit. "May I relieve myself? I have finished my punishment!" she

requested. "Just a few minutes", Clarence told her. "I am prepared to

certify that you have met the punishment requirements. But your sentence

included something else - you are a foreigner, and the agreement for

corporal punishment specified that you would leave immediately upon

release. I cannot release you tonight. You must go for a hearing before

the magistrate in the morning, at which time he will approve the

arrangements for your deportation, which I assume your husband has arranged

for tomorrow; and, if so, you can be released then! In the meantime, you

will remain here, as you were last night. In the morning, you will be

taken to the magistrate at ten o'clock."

"May I have my clothes?"

"You may have your underwear, when you go to your room. It is up to the

magistrate to decide what to do in the morning."

Nancy, chagrined at spending another night incarcerated, considered that

she would again be brought into a public courtroom, before the magistrate

and a crowd of people, her husband and her attorney, wearing just her

underwear.

She returned to her assigned room. She used the toilet to relieve her

urinary distress, then she started to put on her underwear, but reflected

that it badly needed washing. She decided to wash her bra and panties in

the sink using the bar of soap given her. She spread them on the table to

dry, and then washed herself as best she could.

Later, her meal arrived. She ate it naked, no longer caring that the

man who brought it could see her body. She flopped on the cot and was

quickly asleep.

CHAPTER 6 The Last Day

Midnight arrived. Her door opened. A police officer entered, one she

had not met before. She sat upright, tried to cover herself upon realizing

she was naked. He addressed her, "I have orders to move you to another

room until morning. Take your..... clothes...... and come with me." She

grabbed her still damp panties and bra, and, holding them in front of her,

started to follow. He stopped her. "I suggest you use the toilet first.

You will likely regret it if you don't!" Nancy as was taken aback at this

new indignity. However, she had come too far to risk further punishment

now. She sat on the toilet and urinated, profusely, as she recognized the

amount of water that had still been in her body.

The officer took her to another room. It was smaller than the one she

had been using, with a small barred window and a cot. There was no sink,

no toilet, and no table. He left her there, and locked the barred door.

She draped her damp underwear on the foot of the cot, and lay prone on

it, uncovered. What can they still do to me, she thought.

Morning came. No one came to attend to her, though she was aware of

traffic in the hall. Once or twice, someone in the hall peered into her

room, looking at her naked form, still prone on the cot.

Finally, a familiar voice came to her, with the unlocking of the door.

Clarence slipped inside.

"Are you ready for your final day?"

"I suppose. But why was I moved? And why am I in this room without a

toilet? May I please be allowed to use one?" she asked, as she slipped on

her panties and bra.

"You will go the magistrate's hearing at ten. That a little over an

hour from now. In the meantime, we will give you some breakfast. When you

go to the hearing, the magistrate will establish the arrangements for your

deportation, which you will need to accept, as will your husband and

attorney. The magistrate gave orders as to how your are to appear, which

is the reason for your room change."

"Why did he want my room changed?"

"The magistrate expects you to cooperate with the arrangements. He

sometimes finds foreigners argue about these things, and he doesn't like

arguments. He wants you in a mood to cooperate, and that is why these

changes. "

"I don't see what this has to do with my room - the other one was

better..."

"The magistrate has ordered that you not be allowed to urinate after

midnight, until the hearing is over. He assumes you will have a full

bladder, which you should be used to by now. You will be taken in

handcuffs, as you are still a prisoner. And you are to be allowed only one

piece of clothing, in this case your bra, for the hearing. I will handcuff

your hands in front of you and you will hold your hands in front of your

lower body to cover your private parts. The magistrate feels that if you

are in this condition, you will be more cooperative and the hearing will be

over quickly".

Nancy handled her breakfast tray well, despite her growing discomfort.

She felt humiliated, especially knowing that her husband and her attorney

would see her appear in court wearing only a bra, and suffering discomfort

which they might be unaware of.

The appointed time came. She was taken into the court room, exposed to

the stares of a crowd of people. She walked in, holding her cuffed hands

in front of her pubic region, her bare hips exposed to the numerous on

lookers. Ralph and the attorney came up beside her, Ralph with a stunned

expression. The attorney immediately began to protest her almost totally

unclothed appearance and began a lengthy argument for her release. Both he

and Ralph explained to the judge that they held tickets for Ralph and Nancy

on a plane to depart at 4 o‡lock that afternoon, and asked for her release

into Ralph's custody until that time. Nancy heard only part of the

discussion, distracted as she was by her internal discomfort and her

attempts to cover her private area with her handcuffed hands.

After some legal motions and discussion, the magistrate seemingly tired

of the proceedings, which he hastily brought to an conclusion. He

announced, "The prisoner is to be deported this afternoon on the four

o‡lock flight, for which her husband has made arrangements. She will

remain in custody until that time. Her clothing and any other belongings

are to be released to her husband immediately after this hearing. She is

to be taken to the airport in police custody, where she is to be released

only when she is at the aircraft boarding location and a boarding pass for

her has been produced. Since she has completed her punishment

requirements, further discomfort will not be inflicted upon her, and she is

to be allowed to relieve herself when the hearing is over - but only once,

until she released from custody. This matter is now concluded!" He waved

them from the room.

Back in the prep room, Nancy stood, still in only a bra, with the police

officer, her attorney, and Ralph. Clarence escorted her to the women's

toilet, and waited outside the door while she attended to her now urgent

needs, though with some difficulty since her hands were still in handcuffs.

After she was brought back to the room, Clarence unlocked her hands, and

told her to take off her bra and give it to Ralph. In utter humiliation,

Nancy removed her last garment as directed, and handed it to her husband,

now standing nude in front of the three men.

Clarence allowed her short embrace with Ralph, before he and George, the

attorney, were taken from the room. "See you at the airport--" was Ralph's

last, forced cheerful, reply.

Clarence took Nancy back to the room in which she been held that

morning. He told her she would remain there, naked, with no access to a

toilet, but would be given a lunch later. She would, he assured her, be

taken to the airport when the time came.

Periodically, persons passing in the hall would stop to look at her

through the barred door. She hardly tried to cover herself, now, becoming

somewhat hardened to the constant display of her unclad body. She received

her lunch, ate and drank, and waited for the time of her promised

departure.

As time passed, she again was feeling the pressure in her bladder, which

she knew she could not relieve. It was becoming quite uncomfortable about

half past two, when Clarence and another policeman appeared at her door and

unlocked it. "Come", Clarence bade her, and handcuffed her hands behind

her. They then escorted her. barefoot and nude, through the police

station, and to a car waiting outside. She was ushered in, and driven to

the airport.

The police car was driven through the airport's secure areas, and then

stopped while Clarence and and accompanying officer handled paperwork with

airport officials. Nancy was left in back seat of the car, attracting

stares of workers. Eventually, Clarence and his companion returned, and

she was driven to the ramp side of the airport, a short distance from a

waiting aircraft. She could see people boarding. "When do I get my

clothes back?" Nancy asked, in an irritated voice.

"When you are aboard, if your husband has them with him", was the

answer. Nancy found it hard to believe that she would expected to walk up

the steps to the airplane naked, but gradually it sank into her that this

indeed the final indignity they intended to impose upon her.

Finally, she saw Ralph walk up the aircraft steps, and enter the

airplane. Clarence went over to the aircraft, picked up a card from Ralph

inside, then returned to the car. "Time to say good-by, Mrs. Johnson", he

said, opening the door.

Nancy stepped out, eager to be away from this place, horrified by her

nude condition in such a public place, and feeling increasing pain from her

distended bladder. She stepped from the car, feeling the hot pavement on

her bare feet. Still handcuffed, she started to walk toward the steps,

hardly aware of eyes focusing upon her from all sides. She spotted a

drainage grill in the ramp area, in front of her. In a desperate measure,

she stopped, squatted over it, and began a torrential urination. Clarence

gave her a few seconds, then roughly took her arm, lifted her up, and

propelled her towards the aircraft steps.

The passengers inside had a startling view. They could see a naked,

plumpish middle-aged woman being pulled toward the aircraft, hands cuffed

behind her, urine streaming from her crotch and leaving a wet trail behind

her as she moved to the steps. At the foot of the steps, Clarence removed

her handcuffs, glancing at the liquid still pouring from her.

Avoiding all eye contact, she climbed up the steps, finally stopping her

water half way up. She moved inside the door, aware of a female flight

attendant looking at her, almost in unbelief. But, to her great relief,

Ralph was standing at the door, with her clothes hanging over his arm. He

greeted her enthusiastically, and she broke his embrace quickly to snap on

her bra and pull on her underpants, then, a bit more slowly, she donned her

blouse and skirt. Ralph escorted her to a passenger seat. From under the

seat, he produced her shoes. She smiled. Outside, she saw Clarence and

the police car awaiting the departure.

The door was closed, and the flight departed. As they climbed into the

air, she sagged into the seat next to Ralph, trying to erase the ordeal

from her mind. Free at least. The attendant offered drinks, for which she

was grateful. But shortly, a familiar discomfort returned to her. She

felt the demands of her bladder, still not completely relieved. She spoke

to Ralph, "Let me out - I need to use the lavatory before the meal

service."

Ralph looked at the flight attendant, now with a serving cart in the

aisle. "Not now", he replied. "Wait until after dinner". Then he added,

thoughtfully, "I know you can hold it!".

Nancy gave him a wry smile.



END