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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...
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....
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...
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. After all, she would be with friends. It would be nice to catch up on things. She could sit demurely in the corner of Charlene's old couch with her legs crossed. They wouldn't see much once she sat down. It would be almost like wearing a bikini, weird enough though...
Ich habe den Rest der Geschichte gefunden und stelle sie einmal hier online. Der Originaltitel ist:
The Unintentional Nudist VII: The Girl in the Mirror
by DonnyLaja
...
A relieved, kind face came up to the bars. "Are you O.K.?" It was a middle-aged woman in casual,...
Leila arrived at the medical building just five minutes before her 10:30 a.m. appointment and took the elevator to the tenth floor. Her new job required a complete physical, and she had decided to combine that with her annual checkup. Since her old schoolmate Maria worked in Doctor Hillock's office,...
In a small house in the middle of this former factory town, there was not a sound on this dark December morning except for the soft buzz of the fluorescent light in the upstairs bathroom. Behind the closed door, there was a naked 18-year-old college freshman, home for Christmas break, looking at herself...
My name is Violet P. Snicket. Quite a few many years ago, I grew up a Baudelaire. That seems a lifetime ago.
My husband, Lemony, may have told the story of my childhood to you. I admit he is a great story teller. He added a lot of details that are certainly interesting and entertaining...