Damn! Here she was, half done with her shift, then three days off, when Captain Rogers tells her that she has transport duty. Worse, it was an overnighter with a seven hour drive each way. Deputy Bryant would be in to go with her, he said. So Deputy Aimee Mills got the name and social security number of the prisoner. Leslie Adams, 4XA-72-X330, the print out said. She was serving time for credit card fraud, and needs to appear before Judge Hobbs here in Lee County by tomorrow for the same. Well, at least she’s not violent, she thought as she got the keys to the unmarked transport car. She waited about half an hour, and got a call from Capt. Rogers saying that Dep. Bryant couldn’t make it in, and would she be willing to make the pick up on her own. Deputy Mills agreed, and hit the road for Jackson County Jail. She had to pick her up by midnight, or Jackson Co. would have to release her. That meant she had to share a hotel room with the perp on the way back. She arrived just after 11pm. Deputy Mills retrieved the belly chain and leg irons from the trunk, tossed them over her shoulder and walked in. She greeted the desk Sergeant and identified herself. “I’m here to pick up,” she double-checked the printout, “Leslie Adams.”

“Evenin’ Deputy Mills, um, is there another deputy with you?” he asked. With a brisk shake of her head she replied that she was out sick, and it was just her. He still looked puzzled, “She?” Then understanding flashed across his face. He smiled, “Hey, no problem.” He picked up his radio and called for Leslie Adams to be brought up. He told her it would just be a minute, and asked if she wanted some coffee or anything. She accepted a bottle of water and he called another deputy to his desk. “Hey Bill, Deputy Mills is here to pick up Leslie Adams, get her a bottle of water from the fridge, would you.” Aimee noticed that Bill seemed to think something was pretty funny as he left. She chatted with Sgt Jones a few seconds, until Bill returned. He brought back another deputy, and he seemed to be holding back laughter as well. Maybe they’ve never seen a woman Deputy before, Aimee thought. Two more Deputies came from the back; theses were escorting a muscular black guy, about 6’6” 260lbs she estimated. Sgt. Jones spoke up, “Deputy Mills, this is Leslie Adams.” Shit, that’s why they were all laughing, she thought. The prisoner was the first one to say anything.

“Aimee?” he asked her.

She looked at him good, “LJ?” she replied.

“So you two know each other?” Sgt Jones asked. Aimee confirmed it, but didn’t say from were. He didn’t need to know that he had dated her older sister for several months. Then she said she needed to make a couple of calls. “Sure, he ain’t going anywhere; for about 40 minutes anyway.” Sgt Jones laughed at his own wit, and his subordinates followed along.

Aimee stepped back outside and called her jail first. She explained to the duty officer, Lieutenant Woods what was going on. He didn’t want to make this decision on his own. A female deputy with a male prisoner was just too much liability. He said that he was going to call Major Smith, but she cut him off. “No, I’ll just call my Mom; Maj Smith would probably just bump it up to her anyway.” She hung up and dialed her Mom, who just happened to be the Sheriff. “Hey Mom, I’m here but there’s a problem, Leslie Adams is a man.” She listened for a moment, and then spoke again. “Yea, but it gets better, he used to date Amber. Remember LJ?” She asked Aimee what his charges were, and she told her just credit card fraud, and that he had to appear before Judge Peterson by 4pm tomorrow, or we’d lose him. Sheriff Mills told her that it was up to her, that she trusted her judgment. She said goodbye and hung up. She stepped back inside. “I’ll take him,” she announced. Sgt Jones and his boys, as she thought of them, had gotten over their laughter and now their male chauvinism came out. She was firm. Soon she had all the paperwork signed, her belly chain and leg irons on her prisoner, and they were on the road.

They talked about their hometown a bit, and her sister. She knew that is wasn’t appropriate to talk with a prisoner about personal matters, but she had a long drive, and she knew him. She told him that Amber wasn’t married, and was a Captain in the Air Force, and was 26, two years older than her. He asked if she remembered him handcuffing Amber all the time, and she admitted that she did. After about an hour, they arrived at their hotel. She couldn’t leave a prisoner alone, so she brought him into the Hotel lobby. The Pakistani, or whatever he was, she thought, took her department credit card and she signed for the room. He told her it was around back, on the first floor. She took the first bed, setting her duffel bag on it. She locked the door, putting her handcuffs on the knob and the handle on the frame, so it couldn’t be opened from the inside. He asked if she could take off the cuffs. “I shouldn’t, but since I know you, I will this time.” She released him and after he used the john, they talked a bit more. She found out that he already had a plea bargain for community service from Judge Peterson. She said that she needed to take a shower, and took her equipment belt and handcuff keys with her to the tiny bathroom, leaving him watching TV.

She came out wearing still wearing her uniform, (t-shirt and army bdu pants, both grey) minus the boots. He was still lying on her bed in his sweat pants and t-shirt watching TV. They chatted as she brushed her hair. She was talking to him, distracted when she dumped the contents of her bag out onto the bed next to him. His eyes popped open as he saw what came out. Shit, she thought, I forgot that was in there. Her bright orange Lee Co. jail uniform, with the arms and legs cut off, her personal handcuffs and leg irons, and a large black rubber dildo. He picked up the tiny jumpsuit and said, “I bet you’d look dynamite in this, Aimee,” to the red faced Deputy. She claimed that it wasn’t hers, as she snatched the uniform from him and shoved everything back into the bag, taking it back into the bathroom. There she calmed down, and got her libido under control. Every time she got embarrassed, she seemed to get hot; and that was down right humiliating. After a couple of minutes she came back out.

“You forgot something,” he said as he tossed something to her. She caught it and realized that it was her dildo. She mumbled thanks and put it into the bag. “Looks like you might need some new pants too, Aimee.” She looked down and saw to her horror that she had a big stain on the front of her pants from her pussy. She dropped the bag and ran back into the bathroom.

She pulled off her pants and got a good look at them. There was no way she could go into work with that stain, or smell, and she would probably keep them wet just by thinking about what had just happened. Her thin satin thong won’t absorb anything either. She thought for a few minutes. She could wear the jail uniform, just for tonight. Then her pants could at least dry, but the smell would still be there. Maybe she could get the desk clerk to wash them. She cracked the door and asked LJ for her bag. He replied that everything had spilt out when she dropped it, and what did she need. Damn, he’s loving this she thought. She softly asked him for the jail uniform. “What, I can’t hear you Deputy Mills.” She swore under her breath and asked louder. “Sure, no problem babe.” He passed her the orange jumpsuit. She closed the door and removed her t-shirt and panties. She pulled the tiny jump suit on and buttoned it up as far as it would go. That wasn’t very far since she had removed the top three buttons. The jumpsuit came up to the bottom of her breasts, exposing quite a bit of cleavage. Well, of her bra now, but she usually didn’t wear a bra when she wore it at home. The too small jumpsuit had short sleeves, and the legs cut off exposing the bottom of her ass; it even had her name and prisoner number; #69 sewn on it. She was about to pull on her t-shirt, but noticed that it had some juice on it too. She held her cloths in front of her and stepped back into the room.

LJ was sitting on a chair when the half naked deputy came into view. He whistled, “Hey baby, you got some nice legs.” She blushed and called the front desk. The clerk said that it would cost her $20 to wash her clothes. She replied that that was robbery, and he told her she could use it for free if she’d spend some time with him, if she knew what he meant. She groaned in disgust and agreed to the $20. She hung up and LJ asked what was wrong. She told him how much she was being charged to get her clothes washed, and he joked that she might as well get her bra washed too then. She blushed and thought about it for a second. In for a penny, in for a pound and returned to the bathroom and came out sans bra. She was now showing quite a bit of ass and tits, just like she intended when she took the jumpsuit home and altered it. She took the handcuffs off the door moments before he knocked. She cracked the door and passed out her clothes and a twenty. He told her that he would call her when they were ready, and left. She closed the door and replaced the cuffs. LJ spoke from behind her. “Damn Aimee, I ain’t seen nothing like that in a looooong time.” She blushed as she turned around. She glanced at the front of his sweats and her jaw dropped. Apparently the stories Amber had told her were true. He was HUGE! He saw her stare in amazement at the tent on the front of his pants. He looked down and feigned embarrassment. “I’m really sorry about that Aimee, it’s just that you’re so beautiful, and that outfit, and . . .”

“Can I see it?” The words were out of her mouth before she even realized they were in her mind. She had to replay them to know what she’d said. She thought about it. It was against regulations, illegal as matter of fact. She didn’t care. Her mind wasn’t in control anymore. She just had to see it; and touch it; and fuck it. NO! Well maybe, she thought. She knew it was a once in a lifetime chance to find a man this size.

Smiling, he replied, “Sure baby; go right ahead.” He was over a foot taller than her, so it was easy for her to reach out and pull his pants and boxers down. His massive rod sprang into view. She was staring at least 10 inches of black cock. “Go ahead, touch it.” Almost as though she were in a trance, she reached out and touched the head. She rubbed down the shaft, and back up slowly. She could see the blood vessels pulsating. She reached out with her other hand and wrapped them both around it. She pumped it up and down, almost as though she were jacking it off. Suddenly, he tensed and cum spurt out and it her on the jumpsuit, just above her nametag. “Damn, I’m sorry about that Aimee, it’s just been so long since a girl touched me.” Well since those two lady guards at Jackson county jail anyway, he thought. He added, “and you’re so sexy and all.”

“It’s ok, really,” Aimee replied as she looked down at the mess on her chest, back up at his still hard cock, and then at him. “Can I suck it?” she asked, glancing back down at it.

Smiling, he replied, “Sure baby, but you got to do something for me first.” She gave him a questioning look, and he told her what. “Let me cuff you,” he said.

She was speechless; she couldn’t . . . She had to have that monster. “Ok,” she replied. She released her now hard grip on his cock and pulled the leg irons from her bag.

He broke in, “I’ll do that,” and held out his hand for her to hand them over. She handed him the leg irons, and then the hinged handcuffs. He had her sit on the bed and stick out her feet. He locked the leg iron onto her ankles, and then had her stand up. Without giving her time to reconsider, he pulled her right arm behind her. Deputy Mills meekly allowed her prisoner to snap her own handcuffs onto her wrist. He pulled her left arm back and cuffed it as well. She felt a rush of excitement go through her. Now she was helpless. She commented that he did that just they way they were trained, even with her palms out. He replied that he’d just been paying attention in jail. She tried to apologize, but he cut her off. “Forget it.” He spun her around by her shoulders to face him. “Now, I think you wanted to suck on this?” She nodded and leaned forward, stretching her lips and taking his dick into her mouth. She sucked in a few more inches, and started bobbing her head up and down. After a few minutes, he said, “Damn, honey, you’re one bitchin’ cocksucker.” She felt a surge of excitement when she heard the derogatory comment. She looked up into his eyes and smiled around his cock. She felt him tense, and pulled off of him, but not quite in time. He groaned as his jism shot onto her face, hitting her on the side of her nose. He smiled down at her. “Now baby, don’t you think it’s time you got this black snake in you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she gasped. He picked her up by the armpits, and took her to the bed. He lay down on his back, and pulled her on top of him. He opened up her jumpsuit, finding an extra zipper down at her crotch, which he knew wasn’t standard. He unzipped it, and she lowered herself onto his massive rod. She moaned as she impaled herself on him. He reached up and pinched her nipples, pulling her down with them. She bounced up and down on him. She came twice before he did; for his third time anyway. He held her hips down and shot his load deep into her belly, secretly hoping to impregnate her. He loved prison guards carrying his black babies. He pushed her off him, and switched positions so he could fuck her doggy style. He held her hair like a leash, making her keep her back arched and controlling the pace. They each came again, him shooting another load deep into her, and holding his cock in, keeping his seed in her. Satisfied, he rolled over and lay back onto the bed. She swallowed and caught her breath. He asked her if she wanted the cuffs off.

“No, they’re fine, I wear them all the time at home,” she answered. Laughing, he zipped and buttoned her jumpsuit back up, and went to use the bathroom. When he came back out, he asked her where she got that sexy jail uniform. She explained that she took it from work, and altered it herself. She revealed that she loved wearing the handcuffs and jumpsuit at home while she played with herself. She told him that he was the only person who knew about it. She briefly worried about telling him that, but since she had let him fuck her, he could ruin her career anyway. He asked her if she was going to sleep in the cuffs too, and she replied that she did it all the time, and had trouble sleeping without them as matter of fact. He pulled the sheets and blanket over her, and turned off the lights and went to bed himself. It was nearly three when the well-fucked deputy fell asleep.

She awoke to his snoring. Sun light was coming through the curtain. What time is it, she thought? She sat up, shuffled to the table, and opened her cell phone with her cuffed hands. “Shit,” Nine-thirty. “LJ,” she yelled. She shuffled to his bed and sat down on it. She reached over and shook him. “LJ, wake up we’re running late.”

He smiled as he said “But I was dreamin’ about fucking this smoking hot Deputy in a sleazy motel room.” She hit him with her cuffed hands and laughed. She told him that they needed to get going, and asked him to help her find the keys to the handcuffs. They searched several minutes, Aimee even allowing him to look in the car, but to no avail. While he was out looking, she remembered that the keys were in the pocket of the pants she had washed. She called him back in, he responded by getting in the driver’s seat and cranking the car. Even with the smile on his face, she freaked out, cursing him even after he came back in and apologized. He dialed the desk and held the phone to her ear. She told the clerk who she was, and found out that he’d only been there an hour, and the last guy didn’t tell him anything about any clothes. She asked him to look, and after a minute, he came back and said that he didn’t see any clothes, or keys. Fear crept into her voice as she asked if he could call him. The clerk replied that the night guy was in a very good mood for the first time in weeks, and he wasn’t going to bother him. She got mad, and threatened to complain to the owner and have the night clerk arrested for theft. His response was that he was the owner, the night clerk is brother, and call the fucking cops, he didn’t care, and hang up on her. She was crying as LJ hung the phone up. He suggested that she could say that he had over powered her and took her hostage. She was genuinely touched by the kind gesture, but told him that it wouldn’t work, too many ways for it to go wrong. “Are there anymore keys for the cuffs?” he asked. She answered that the only other keys were at her house, over 6 hours away, and they had to be at the jail by four. He asked if they could make it to her house and then the jail by four. She said that there wasn’t, they would barely make it to the jail, and she lived half-an-hour past it. He thought a few seconds, he knew when his court date was, and could guess why they had to be there by four. “I know a way to get the keys, and you another uniform in time.” She asked how, and he told her. “Some one could go to your house, get them, and meet us.

She replied, “But I can’t let anyone I know find out about this, I’ll get fired.” Or more she thought. His response was that he knew the perfect guy for the job. She considered a few seconds, asked if he trusted him completely, and with his nod, agreed. He used her cell phone and made a call. He explained what he needed without giving details. Go to a house in the country, use a hidden key to get in, get a set of keys and some clothes, and meet them. He almost backed out when LJ got around to mentioning that it was a cop’s house, but talked him into staying in. He held the phone to her ear as she told Tyrone where her spare key was hidden, her alarm code, and detailed instructions on where everything was. He hung up and LJ grabbed the odds and ends from the room, including her gun belt. He took them to the car, and after making sure the coast was clear, she shuffled to the car. He drove around to the front, and turned in the room key. As they got on the road she was busy thinking about how she had just gave a complete stranger total access to her house, all on a prisoner’s suggestion. She felt her pussy getting warmer as these thought ran through her mind. LJ reassured her that Tyrone would play it straight, and she relaxed somewhat. There were still a million things that could go wrong, but nothing she could do about any of them right now. She thought about LJ taking her strait to jail, and she felt the wetness soaking through her jumpsuit as she played in her mind her cuffed and in a jail jumpsuit being paraded in front of her coworkers. She thanked LJ several times for his help. He just said that she’d have to pay him back sometime. They met Tyrone behind a gas station about 2 hours from the jail. Tyrone was happy to see his old homeboy, but really happy to see this fine ass cop handcuffed. LJ released her handcuffs, and the humiliated deputy fumbled to remove the leg irons. She looked around for a place to change, and LJ told her that the bathroom was inside; the clock was ticking, and make up her mind. She asked Tyrone if he could please turn around, but he replied that he needed some kind of payment for his work, and watching a smokin’ bitch change clothes would do fine. She turned red with embarrassment and quickly changed into her uniform under their smiling eyes. LJ noticed how turned on she got as they watched her. Dressed, she locked the belly chain and standard leg irons back onto LJ as Tyrone left.

They arrived with about 15 minutes to spare. LJ’s lawyer was waiting for him. Deputy Mills found out that Judge Peterson had left early, and postponed the Adams case a month. LJ was upset at spending another month in jail, but remembering his plans for Aimee, he got over it.

He saw her a couple of days later, they spoke briefly, neither of them wanted to draw any attention to themselves. He told her that he’d been in a month, and told her to bring him a prepaid cell phone. Time away from him had let her get her confidence back. She said no way, but he reminded her about the other night, and her resolved slipped. She changed her argument, a sure sign of someone losing. She asked how he would keep it hidden; he smugly replied that it wouldn’t be a problem. She gave in agreed to smuggle him a cell phone with 1000 minutes on it, and a charger. He told her to get herself one too, so he wouldn’t have to call her house. She went to a Wal-mart in Greenville, so no one would see her getting the cells. She paid in cash, not leaving a paper trail. She got them home and after opening his and putting the minutes on it, wiped all her prints off it and the charger. She managed to sneak it into his laundry bag the next day.

He called her the following night. He spoke in a low voice, so he wouldn’t wake his cellmate. He instructed her to always keep this phone with you, answer by the second ring, softly so no one can recognize your voice. If it isn’t me, whoever calls will say that LJ told me to call, do what they tell you to. If they don’t say that first, hang up and don’t answer the phone until you talk to me. She agreed and then he told her that he had a detail, and it was cleaning the offices in the admin building after hours. He wanted her to trade with whoever was watching him, so they could have some fun. She balked at first, but he just said it was that, or wait a month to get his man tool. She got hot and bothered when he went into detail about what he was going to do to her. Her fingers were busy when he abruptly told her to stop.

“Stop what?” she asked between moans.

“Stop twiddling your twat,” he told her more forcefully. He went on to tell her that she’d better not cum until tomorrow night, or she wouldn’t have a chance of getting his dick into her pussy. The frustrated Deputy couldn’t stand the thought of not having his monster again. She agreed and did as he instructed. He told her not to wear panties, and to bring her hinged cuffs and a pair of oversize cuffs with her. She told him ok and he hung up.

The next day she called Deputy Allen, the ancient officer that had the detail. She told him that she would take his detail for the admin building that night. He was wary of such an open favor from the Sheriff’s daughter, but accepted. Her regular cuffs were hinged, so she just had to get a pair of ‘big guy’ cuffs from the armory, so she went in early and told what was not quite a lie. She told the armor officer that she needed them for a larger prisoner on the admin detail. She didn’t mention that the prisoner would be using them on her. She signed for them, thanked him, and left.

She picked up prisoner Adams and they headed to the Sheriff’s admin building, which was separate from the jail. It was seven, and they had to be back by midnight. The shared a brief kiss, and he told her that he needed some motivation for work. Feeling his manhood pressed against her, she asked what kind. He told her to turn around a put her hands behind her back. He pulled her hinged cuffs off her belt and snapped them onto her wrists. Next he grabbed the big guy cuffs and pulling her arms together, locked them on her just above her elbows, making her wince in pain. He cleaned the next few hours, finishing in her mom’s office. “What would Sheriff Mills think if she knew one of her prisoners was about to fuck her daughter on her own desk, and her daughter was gonna love it?” he asked her. Without waiting for an answer he took off her pistol belt. Then he unbuttoned her pants, yanked them down, pushed her over the desk, and plunged into her sopping pussy from behind. The heavy desk moved several feet as he pounded her. They each came twice, and he released her. Aimee massaged her sore wrists and biceps. Then they moved the desk back into its place, as well as everything else they had moved. She took him back to the jail and dropped him off.

She arrived home eager for more. She quickly stripped naked, cuffed herself, and had just plunged her dildo into her still wet pussy when the prepaid cell rang. She left the dildo in and answered it with her cuffed hands. LJ asked her if she had enjoyed tonight, and she said, “God Yes!” Without asking what she was doing, he told her to take the dildo out of her slutty cunt. She groaned in frustration and pulled it out while holding the phone with her shoulder. Then he told her to lick it clean. She did, and he told her that from now on she couldn’t play with herself without permission. She was stunned, but knew she couldn’t live without his cock; so she agreed to give him control over her most private act. He asked her if she had a credit card, and how much was on it. Confused, she told him yes, and it had five grand on it. He asked if the bill came to her. She said yes, and he replied that she had some shopping to do tomorrow. He gave her instructions for the next day. He told her to wear some old clothes you don’t mind losing. Take your work boots to Greenville boot repair, tell him that LJ sent you, pay with your credit card, don’t ask what it’s for, or how much it’ll cost you. Then he told her to go to Jasmine’s, ask for Pam, and tell her that LJ sent you. Do what she tells you to, pay with your card, and don’t ask how much. She’ll give you new clothes; only wear what she gives you. When you get done, go to the Greenville mall, to Bodies. Ask for Becky; tell her that LJ sent you. Do what she tells you, pay her with your card, and don’t ask how much it is. When you get done at Bodies, you can shop or leave, but don’t change clothes, and make sure you pick up your boots on time. Wear what Pam gives you till you get home. If you don’t do all of this, you can forget about ever having my dick in you again, understand? She agreed to all of this, but mentioned that she didn’t know where the boot repair place or Jasmine’s was. He replied that she should use the fuckin’ net like everybody else.

The next day she put on an old pair of sweats, t-shirt and flip flops. She hopped in her civic and left for Greenville, which was about 45 minutes from her house. She didn’t go often, so she had a little trouble finding Greenville Boot Repair. When she found it she got her boots and walked in. There was an ancient Asian man behind the counter. She sat her boots on it and told him that LJ had sent her. He smiled at her and asked for her credit card. She handed it over and he rung up a sale. She signed the receipt and got her card back. He told her to come back after six, but he closed at seven. She agreed, and left.

Now she headed for Jasmine’s. Her map was good this time, it took her straight there. It was a large shop, she saw about a dozen people inside and the store wasn’t crowded at all. She found a young sales girl and asked for Pam. Kelly directed her to a tall black woman, about 30 years old. Aimee told her that LJ had sent her, and Pam took her to a changing room, and went in with her. The rooms were large enough for two, but barely. Pam told Aimee to strip and give her all of her clothes, and purse. While Aimee stripped, Pam asked her sizes. She told her as she handed over her clothes and purse. Pam took everything, and left. Aimee thought about what she was doing; she was letting a prisoner order her around, dress her, and worst of all, she was paying for it. She knew that she would too, just to have that monster in her again. Pam returned a few minutes later, with a pair of sky-high stiletto heels for her. Aimee tried to tell her that there was no way she could walk in them, but Pam replied that she would just have to let LJ know that she didn’t even want to try. Aimee quickly grabbed the heels and sat down. They were shiny black platforms. Aimee slid them on and buckled the straps. Pam had her stand up and walk around, to get used to them. Aimee rose and took a few tentative steps. Pam told her to keep at it till she came back. She left and Aimee walked around the changing room. Here she was, a Deputy Sheriff, in a store that catered to strippers, stark naked practicing walking in these . . . fuck-me heels. It was humiliating, it was . . . making her wet. A hand reached for her wet spot, but stopped short as she remembered LJ order not to play with herself. Pam came back in and started to ask how she was doing, but broke off when she saw the wet spot on Aimee. Laughing, she told Aimee that LJ had warned her that this might happen, and had given her some advice. She closed the door and left, returning a few seconds later with a muscular black man in a tight black shirt with ‘security’ on it. Aimee tried to cover herself as she asked what was going on. Pam replied that Derrick was going to take some ‘precautions’ that LJ had recommended. Derrick stepped into the room and held up a pair of handcuffs; her handcuffs. She apologized and tried to back away, but the wall stopped her. Pam told her that if she didn’t cooperate she’d have to let LJ know. Derrick told her to turn around a put her hands behind her back; and the humiliated Deputy did. She felt the cold steel of her own cuffs on her wrists and ratchet close. Damn! I’m even hornier now, she thought. Pam reminded her to keep practicing in the heels and they left.

It was sometime later when Pam returned. She was carrying an outfit for Aimee. Pam un-cuffed her and told her to sit down and take off her shoes. Aimee sat and removed the black platforms. Pam handed her a box and a bag. She told her to put the shoes on first, and to put her old ones in the box, and to put on everything in the bag. Aimee opened the box and put on the new shoes. They were leopard print platforms, with heels just as high, but blocky instead of stiletto. Aimee pulled out a Leopard print mini dress first. She hung in on a hook and pulled out a tiny thong of the same design. She slid them on and looked in the bag for a bra. She didn’t find one. She asked Pam about it, and Pam replied that the outfit didn’t come with one. Aimee hesitated for a moment, and Pam mentioned that she’d be calling LJ later. Aimee picked up the dress and pulled it on. It had spaghetti straps, was tight on top until just below her breasts, and loose from her belly down to about mid thigh. She had never worn a dress this short before. She finally reached the last items from the bag. She put on the large plastic hoop earrings first, in the leopard print of course. Then she slid the dozen matching bangle bracelets on, six to each arm as Pam instructed. Looking at herself in the mirror, she thought about what she looked like. she looked like a slut . . . she looked like a bimbo . . . She looked like a whore. She knew that she would stop anyone walking around Lee County dressed like this. She was still staring at herself when Pam pulled her arms back behind her and snapped her cuffs back on her wrists. Them Pam produced a one-inch wide leopard print collar and buckled it around her neck. She led Aimee out of the changing room, down the short hall, and back out into the store. Aimee asked if she still had to be handcuffed, and Pam replied with the lame excuse that it was the easiest way to keep track of them. Several customers admired her as Pam escorted her to the checkout counter, where Derrick was waiting with a smile. He took her keys from Pam and unlocked her cuffs. He groped her ass and tits as he was doing it, even pressing his crotch into Aimee’s cuffed hands. Derrick handed her cuffs back to her. Pam passed her her new purse, leopard print of course. Aimee put her cuffs in it, and signed the receipt Pam slid across the counter. Pam told her that there was an envelope in her purse that she needed to open first. Aimee’s bracelets clicked against each other with every movement of her arms. She told her that her other purchases were in her trunk, and to come back soon. Aimee thought about asking the total, but quickly decided against it. She thanked Pam, who insisted she thank Derrick as well. She left Jasmine’s and headed to the mall. Driving was an adventure in the platforms, but she managed.

She found a parking space and got out. Several horns honked as she made her slow walk, (the only kind she could in the heels) to the mall entrance. When she made it in, she heard catcalls and whistling. The mall’s air conditioning made her nipples hard. Her face turned red when she realized this. Her heels clicked with every step, causing even more heads to turn her way. She went to a map and found to her dismay that Bodies was on the far side of the mall. She started that way, getting more hooting and whistling along the way. She arrived and saw that Bodies was a shop for teenage girls. It sold mostly club wear and other stretchy, shiny stuff, but compared to what she was wearing, it was nothing. Becky was the first person she found, a bubbly blonde that looked about 16. Aimee told her that LJ had sent her, and after she complimented Aimee on her outfit, she got her sizes again. Becky took her to the back of the store, and seemed embarrassed when she told Aimee that she was supposed to handcuff her. Aimee pulled her cuffs out of her handbag and handed them over. Becky fumbled as she took them; giggling, she admitted that she’d never seen real ones, except on TV and stuff. Aimee explained that the cuffs were hinged, and more secure that regular chain handcuffs. She went on to tell the giggling Becky that she needed to cuff her behind her back, with the keyholes up. Aimee turned and put her hands behind her back. She turned her head and talked Becky through cuffing her. Then Becky put the cuffed deputy in one of the small changing rooms and went to gather her clothes. Only after she had walked away did Aimee realize that Becky didn’t say LJ wanted her cuffed behind her back. Too late now though, she thought. She sat down on the small stool to wait. The door to the changing room was a couple of feet off the floor, and only shoulder high. A couple of girls peeked under the door to see if the room was occupied. Aimee heard one call her a slut under her breath as she went into the next room. Becky returned and told her that everything was ready. Aimee stood and Becky asked where the key was. Aimee directed her to the leopard purse on the hook, and Becky fumbled to release her. After several tries and Aimee coaching her, she managed to open one of the cuffs. Aimee took over unlocked the other one and returned the cuffs to her handbag. At the checkout counter Aimee handed over her credit card and signed the receipt without seeing the total. Becky had dozens of boxes and bags stacked by the counter. Becky handed her another envelope, telling her to open it before any of the bags. Just as Aimee was wondering if she would have to carry it all to her car, a teenage black guy came in with a cart. He gawked openly at Aimee as Becky told her that he would help her with her purchases.

Tony loaded everything up and pushed the cart out of the store. Becky told them bye as they left, and for Aimee to come back soon. Aimee got plenty more attention as they made their way back through the mall. As they neared her car she opened her purse to get her keys. They must have hung up on her cuffs, because the cuffs fell to the pavement as she pulled the keys out. Tony gawked as she picked them up, and she heard several catcalls, as well as a horn honking while she was squatting. She was putting them back when Tony asked if he could see them. She handed the cuffs to him as she stood back up. He asked if they were real, she told him they were. Then he asked if she was cop, and she replied yes as well.

He replied, “Damn baby, you can handcuff me anytime!” She blushed and thanked him. He asked if he could cuff her while he loaded her car. She hesitated a moment, but agreed. Her bracelets clicked against each other as she held out her hands. He snapped the cuffs on her wrists and after taking a good look; proceeded to load the boxes and bags into the back and front seat of her car. He finished and Aimee realized that she needed to give him a tip. She told him that she didn’t have any cash, and couldn’t. He replied by pulling out a camera phone and telling her that a picture would be all the tip he needed. She posed, letting the camera get a good shot of her dress and cuffs, but not her face, so no one could recognize her. She thanked him for his help as she un-cuffed herself. He said that it was his pleasure, and asked where he could get a pair of handcuffs. She told him where a police supply store was, and he thanked her again. He gazed at her as she sat down in her low civic. She waved as she drove off.

She drove back to Greenville Boot Repair. The old Asian guy leered at her as she came up to the counter. She had to pirouette for him, letting him get a good look. He made her lean over the counter so he could pull on her collar’s lead ring. He finally set her boots the counter. Aimee saw that he had resoled them, putting about a 2 inch heel on them. How am I gonna explain those at work, she thought. He wanted her to try them on, so she sat on the bench in the front of the shop, pulled off her sky high heels and put on a pair of the boots. She looked tacky, dressed like a strumpet, but with the police boots on. She walked back and forth, telling him that they were fine. She did the same in the other pair, with the same results. She put her shoes back on, and asked if there was anything else. He responded in broken English, asking her if she wouldn’t mind sucky sucky. Disgusted, she grabbed her boots and fled the store. The sun was setting as she climbed into her civic and left.

It was dark by the time she arrived home. Aimee started unloading her car by her floodlights. She piled everything up in her living room, figuring that she would put it away later. Only after she finished did she realize that she should have changed clothes first. She was tired, her feet were killing her, but mostly, she wanted to masturbate. Being tired won out. She went into her bedroom, undressed, and after cuffing herself, went to bed.

She got up the next day, and after moving her cuffs in front, went into her living room. She saw the two envelopes from Jasmine’s and Bodies, and sat down to read them. She opened the one from Jasmine’s first. It was a typed list describing the clothes she had bought. The list explained what went with each outfit. It also told her that anytime she left Lee County, she could only wear an outfit from Jasmine’s. She opened the envelope from Bodies, and it was the same, except those clothes were for around town. Most of the stuff from Bodies was more risqué that what she normally wore. She took off her handcuffs and leg irons, and started unpacking everything and putting it away. She was working about 15 minutes when her phone rang. It was someone named Scott from her credit card’s fraud department. He wanted to know if she had made a $1,457 purchase at a place called Jasmine’s in Greenville, and a $919 charge from Bodies in the Greenville mall. She acknowledged that she had, and he apologized for having to call her, but the charges seemed unusual compared to her past buying patterns. Then he asked her if she wanted to talk to customer service about raising her credit limit. She replied that she did, and after he transferred her, she soon had doubled her credit limit to $10,000. She hung up and went back to putting away over twenty three hundred dollars worth of clothes, footwear, and accessories. She had to move most of her old clothes to her spare bedroom’s closest. Her work uniforms looked out of place among the tiny sexy stuff she surrounded it with. She finished a couple of hours later, and got ready for work.

Her boots had just enough heel to make her ass sway as she walked. Her fellow deputies noticed, as did the prisoners. Aimee worked intake, and spent the shift strip searching females that had been arrested. Between that, she did security patrols of the female section of the jail. She even got a few catcalls from the lesbians in the dorms. She was used to that, even if it hadn’t happened in awhile. She finished her shift, and went home.

She was wearing the black stilettos from Jasmine’s around the house, just to get used to them. It was kinda hard to walk in them and the leg irons, but that was the whole point of practice, she thought. She was washing dishes when the prepaid rung. She shuffled over as fast as she could and answered it after the third ring. It was LJ. He asked her why the fuck it took her so long to answer the phone. She apologized and explained herself. He warned her not to let it happen again, and told her that he’d gotten good reports on her yesterday. He went on to tell her that he wanted her supervising the admin detail everyday. She replied that she would have to change shifts to do that. His reply was, “Your Momma is the fuckin’ sheriff; you can get whatever shift you want.” She gave in and said that she would take care of it, one way or another. He had another demand for her. When she wasn’t on duty, she couldn’t carry her badge or gun. She complained that she was supposed to, that she had to be on call twenty-four seven. He finally compromised with her, for the first time. He said that she could leave them locked in the glove box of her car, but to always carry a pair of cuffs on her. She accepted this new limitation on her life. He warned her one more time about answering the phone faster, and hung up.

The next day at work she asked her mom to move her to evening shift, and assign her the admin detail. Sheriff Mills asked why, and Aimee replied that she just wanted to. Her mom agreed, and starting the next day, she would report at 4pm for third shift.

She stopped by the police gym for her normal workout after work. That night, she got a call from LJ. He told her which outfit to bring, and that he wanted some real food, a steak. She told him that she would see what she could do about the food. He replied, “Bitch, if I don’t get no steak, then you don’t get no steak.”

The next day, she cooked LJ a thick steak. She had removed the cuffs and leg irons from the night before, but had on a pair of slip-on platforms that were meant to be worn around the house, according to the instructions she was given. The steak would have to be warmed up in the microwave, but this was the best she could do. She packed the steak and baked potato, along with a few cokes into a small cooler. (Author’s note: I live in the south, it’s ALL coke.:)

She had the outfit LJ wanted in her duffel bag and the cooler in the trunk when she went to work. She spent three hours working at the jail, and then took LJ to the admin building. She took him to the break room, and put his meal in the microwave. He told her to go change, but to keep her duty belt on. She went into the ladies room and put on the tiny, stretchy fetish cops uniform. The top was long sleeved, but stretched over her chest, and only came down a few inches below her tits anyway. The hot pants were tight over her ass, and showed a distinctive camel toe in front. Of course, the then thong with a badge in front underneath it didn’t help much either. She laced up the knee-high platform boots, put on the collar that was a special addition, and last, put her duty belt back on. She went to the mirror to get a good look at herself. Somehow, the duty belt, with the gun, taser, baton, and her other gear, made her look even more ridiculous; which she figured was the point. She walked back into the break room to find that LJ had finished his meal. He told her how sexy she was, and cuffed her. He cleaned up the offices, finishing up in her mom’s office again. He pulled down her wet hot pants and thong, leaving her duty belt on, and bent her over the desk and gave her his steak. Both satisfied; he un-cuffed her and let her dress. They went back to the jail. As she dropped him off, the deputy asked her what the mark was on her neck. She turned red, mumbled something incomprehensible, and left.

The next several days were more of the same, except LJ had her wear different outfits for him, including the jumpsuit that she wore at the motel that night. LJ called her most nights. Friday night, he called her and told her that she was getting a makeover tomorrow, and some work done on her car. He gave her the details of where to go and who to ask for, and hung up.

The next day she put on something from Jasmine’s, since she was going to Greenville. Black and red spandex top, black hot pants with red stripes down the sides, red leather belt, red and black platform heels, red plastic hoop ear rings, half-a-dozen plastic bangles on each wrist, alternating red and black, and a red leather collar.

She went to ‘Tre’s Phat Customz’ first. She went in the door marked ‘Office’ and wasn’t surprised to hear loud, abrasive rap music blaring away. She walked up to the desk, getting admiring stares from the three Black men sitting behind it. She asked for Tre’. One of them got up and said that it was him. She told him that LJ had sent her. He got her credit card and after letting her sign a blank receipt, gave it back to her. She took him out to her car, and he had one of his employees take it into the shop. Tre’ told her that it would be about a week, and the he had a loaner for her. She took the low rider truck with Tre’s Phat Customz logos on it, and left for the salon LJ told her to go to.

It was in the Greenville Mall. She went in, and once more endured the whistling and cat calls. She asked for Jenny, and was told that Jenny was with a client, and that she would have to wait. Aimee sat down and thumbed through a fashion magazine about ten minutes until Jenny came out. She was blonde, had on heavy make up, and was wearing a pink smock. Aimee didn’t see anything under it until she turned around. She had on a tiny soft pink top and matching short shorts. Even her tennis shoes were pink. Aimee told her that LJ had sent her. Jenny had her let Tiffany keep her handbag for her. Aimee passed it to her, and Tiffany put it under the counter. Jenny was very friendly as she took Aimee to the back. She talked Aimee’s ears off the next few hours as she did her hair, nails, and make-up. She even had Aimee pull off her hot pants and panties, and gave her a Brazilian wax. She didn’t let Aimee see a mirror until she was done. Aimee was shocked by what she saw. She was bleached blonde, obviously fake, her face had on more make-up than she had ever worn, but not near as much as Jenny. Her lips were bright red and looked wet. Her finger and toenails were bright red, fortunately only a quarter inch long on her fingers. She looked like a complete slut. Like a dumb blonde bimbo. Jenny asked what she thought. Aimee thought a few seconds. She replied that if this was what LJ wanted, it was what LJ would get. They went out to the desk, were Tiffany returned her purse. Jenny offered her a piece of gum, saying that it would help complete the look. Aimee took it and thanked her as Tiffany scanned her credit card. Aimee signed the receipt, giving Jenny a twenty dollar tip for the Bimbo number one make-over. I can’t believe all of this is going to be in my credit records, she thought as she thanked them both again and left. As she was leaving, Becky from Bodies was coming in. She liked Becky’s new look as much as Becky liked hers. Becky had a thick leather collar with a large lead ring around her neck, locked with a small padlock, as she was eager to show her. She was also sporting matching wrists cuffs, also padlocked. She thanked Aimee for telling Tony where to get the handcuffs. Becky told her the he cuffed her every chance he got, and she loved it.

Aimee returned to work a couple of days later, still driving the loaner. Her fellow deputies were wary of her new look, but the prisoners loved it. She saw quite a few with a hand in their pocket. It was a relief to take LJ on detail. She changed into a black cat suit, with an opening at the crotch. Platform boots and a collar went with it. She spent the next several hours handcuffed, as he cleaned the offices. He sat down in her mother’s chair this time, and she climbed into his lap and straddled him. Before she was completely satisfied, she had to take him back to jail. He un-cuffed her and she changed back into her uniform. She dropped him off with the deputy at the gate, and went home. Naked and cuffed, she fell asleep.

Five days later Aimee got ready to go pick up her car. Per LJ’s instructions, she was wearing a tube top, miniskirt, and platform heels, all in white. A white leather collar was on her neck, as well as plastic hoop earrings and bangle bracelets, also white. When she saw herself in her mirror at home, she came close to disobeying LJ. The top stretched over her breasts, leaving most of her chest and belly naked. The skirt was even worse; it would barely cover her ass; when she was standing anyway. Sitting, it had no chance. The cheap white thong underneath was wet before she even left the house. Aimee knew that she would be arrested for indecent exposure in Lee County. Probably in Greenville too, she thought as she got into the loaner and pulled out of her drive way.

Aimee tugged down the hem of her skirt as she got out of the car and Tre’s Phat Customz. Grabbing her small white handbag, she strutted into the office. That obnoxious rap was still on, she noticed. She had always preferred country, or pop was ok sometimes. She hated rap; always talking about slappin’ ho’s, pimpin’, shootin’, and gang bangin’. One of Tre’s employees came into the office from another door. After gawking at her a second, he smiled, walked over and leaned on the counter. She had trouble understanding him, and he seemed to be having trouble standing. Aimee thought she might be sick or something, his eyes were bloodshot. An odor hit her nostrils that seemed familiar. She sniffed the air and placed it. POT! He was high on pot! The first thing that went through her mind was arresting him on the spot. Then she remembered how she was dressed, and that she was out of her jurisdiction. Aimee was still wondering what she should do when the door opened again and Tre’ came in. He quickly hustled his stoned employee to the couch, out of the way. Tre’ complimented her style; well he told her that she was, “One fine ass ho.” Aimee guessed that counted as a compliment. She turned red and thanked him. Tre’ took her into the shop, and to her civic.

Aimee barely recognized it. Gone was the blue-grey paint that she had picked out from the dealership. In its place was pearl white paint with sparkles embedded in it. The rims caught her eye next. They were shiny chrome spinners. She hated spinners. She gave a ticket to anyone she pulled over with spinners. She cursed under her breath. Tre’ just chuckled and showed her the interior. The seats and steering wheel were soft white leather, with matching dash and carpets. Even the console and buttons were white. They had ripped out her driver’s airbag and put a LCD screen in the steering wheel. Then Tre’ showed her his favorite feature. The automatic transmission shifter had a white cover over it, with a smiley face on it. He pulled it off and revealed a big black dildo. Tre’ explained that it was LJ’s number one request for her car. The dildo was the transmission shifter. Aimee was horrified when Tre’ explained that it was the only way to change gears. If the car was parked, or in drive, she could put the cover on and no one would see it; but when ever she had to shift gears, she would have to use the dildo. With the rest of the car white, the black dildo would stand out. Anyone that looked in would see it easily. Tre’ invited her to sit down and try it out. Reluctantly, she sat down in the driver’s seat. The leather did feel good on her bare legs, she thought. She felt the leather wrapped steering wheel, thinking it felt nice too. She reached for the shifter slowly, setting her palm on top of it and gripping it. She wrapped her hand around it and stroked down. God! It even felt like a dildo. Every time she even sat in her car she would think about sex. Tre’ interrupted her day dreaming by telling her to start the car. She turned the ignition and more of that loud rap blasted from the speakers. She looked for the controls and found the off button. The music stopped and the LCD screen in the steering wheel came to life. She looked at the screen and saw a white woman sucking on a black dick. PORN! The flushed deputy looked for a way to turn it off. She couldn’t. After a few seconds of searching, she just turned the car off. The blowjob continued if front of her. She pulled the keys out of the ignition and it finally stopped. Tre’ found her trouble very amusing. He told Aimee how her old stereo had been ripped out and replaced with a 10 speaker, 500 watt system with a 160 gig hard drive. She complained that she hated rap, but Tre’ told her that LJ wanted 20 gigs of rap, and 140 gigs of porn. He also explained to her that the computer was password protected, and the car wouldn’t run unless the stereo and LCD screen were hooked up.

Aimee was visibly upset at this point. Everyone would hear that shit; and see her behind the wheel. Everywhere she went people were already asking her who her new man was, when they weren’t calling her a bimbo, or an undercover hooker or something else anyway. Now she had to drive around with this . . . this shit blasting in her ears.

Tre’ told her that she had some paperwork to sign in the office. He held her hand and helped her out of the low civic. He let her walk ahead of him, probably just to get an eyeful, she thought. Once in the office, he led her to the couch that pothead was on earlier. Tre’ asked if she wanted anything to drink, and she declined as she tried to get her tiny miniskirt to cover her mound. Tre’ brought a stack of papers over. He told her that she owed him a little over four grand. She asked him about her credit card, and Tre’ replied that he had maxed it out. Aimee was stunned; they had ruined her car, maxed out her credit card that had over eight grand on it, and it was still going to cost her over four thousand dollars. Aimee was almost in tears now. She told Tre’ that she didn’t have that kind of money. Tre’ handed her a credit application. It was already filled out, she just needed to sign, he said. Aimee took the pen he offered and leaned forward to sign it. She glanced up and noticed him staring down her top. Oh well, nothing she could do about that dressed like this, she thought. The interest rate caught her eye. Twenty-seven point nine-nine percent! Outraged, she told him that she wasn’t paying that, it was robbery. Tre’ calmly replied that %27.99 was the maximum legal interest rate in this state. Aimee didn’t care, she wasn’t paying it. With a chuckle, Tre’ told her to call LJ, that he was expecting it.

Fuming, she walked outside and dialed his prepaid. He answered on the first ring. She told him what was going on, what Tre’ had done to her car, and what he was charging her. LJ told her to calm down. She did, and he explained to her that Tre’ was a close friend, and had gone through a lot of trouble for him. She had a choice; she could sign the contract and pay him, or she could pay him what her credit card didn’t by helping him advertise. She thought a moment, and then hesitantly asked how she would have to help. LJ told her that Tre’ wanted to do a calendar shoot with some of the cars he had pimped out, including hers, and he needed a model. She said that she would think about it, and hung up. She paced outside the shop a few minutes, ignoring the honks from the passing cars. With that insane interest rate, her payments would be almost $250 a month, for three years. She wasn’t even going to be able to pay off her credit card in a few years, much less with what was practically a car payment on top of that. She would have to do that calendar shoot. She walked back in and told Tre’ the good news. Tre’ smiled, and his two employees gave each other high fives. Tre’ set it up for the following Saturday, since that was her next day off. She gave him her prepaid number, so he could call and tell her what outfits to bring, besides what she was wearing. She signed that contract for the shoot after barely a glance, not reading the parts giving Tre’ total intellectual rights, and him complete ownership of all the images from the shoot. She would get $4,067.35, her outstanding debt with Tre’s Phat Customz. Tre’ and LJ would split the rest of the profits, with Tre’ getting three-quarters and LJ getting twenty-five percent. Aimee got in the white civic, set her purse on the passenger seat, grabbed the dildo, and drove away; the loud rap blaring away the whole drive home.

Once she got home, Aimee parked her car, put the cover over the dildo, and when into her house. She paced back and forth in her kitchen, heels tapping, trying to figure out what to do about her car. She didn’t want anyone to see her in it, but she couldn’t afford another one. What she really needed was a good fucking, she thought as she idly brushed her fingers across the front of her miniskirt. LJ wouldn’t allow that, though. The only way to get her mind off of that was a good workout; but that would mean driving her car to the police gym in Lee City. Oh well, they’ll see it sooner or later anyway, she thought. She headed to her bedroom to change, then drove to the gym.

The next day, she had to drive to work. Everyone questioned her change in music; but with all of her other recent changes, didn’t make a big deal about it. She wore the white tube top and mini combo with her hands and upper arms cuffed behind her while supervising LJ on detail. She tried to complain to him about her car, but he would have none of it; saying that’s how he wants his ‘snow ho’ to roll. Then, to change the subject, LJ told her how sexy she looked, and fucked her. After he gave her three orgasms, LJ relaxed in her mother’s executive chair while Aimee gave him a leisurely blowjob. He asked her what she was doing the next few days. Looking up, she replied that she had to renew her driver’s license, but other than that just the usual stuff. LJ smiled as an idea formed in his mind. He told her that she had to wear something from Jasmine’s; he’d tell her what later. She complained that everyone at the county court house knew her, and would see her. LJ gave her permission to wear a trench coat, but she had to take the license picture wearing what he told her to. She agreed, and finished his blowjob.

It was too warm for a coat, but Aimee pulled the calf length leather coat tight as she went into the courthouse. Heels clicking on the tile floor, she walked into the DMV office. Staci, a friend from high school was working. She was happy to see Aimee, asking if what she’d heard about her new man was true. Warily, Aimee asked what she’d heard; hoping the truth hadn’t gotten out. Staci replied that she had heard that Aimee must have found a man that was great in bed, cuz she always looked well satisfied lately. With a sigh of relief, Aimee agreed, but refused to give any details. Staci finished setting everything up, and told her that it was picture time. Aimee took off her coat and laid it over a chair. Staci looked up and her jaw dropped. Aimee flushed as Staci stared at her. Hot pink platform heels, with matching hot pants and spandex belly shirt, plastic bangles and earrings. The hot pants had a black handprint on one butt cheek, and a shiny black belt was around her waist. A 2 ½’ wide black leather collar was around her neck, with a large lead ring hanging from the front. On the front of the top, in black lettering about 2 inch high were the words, “CUFF ME.” Aimee stood in front of the camera and asked Staci to please make sure that she got her collar and top in the frame. Staci was speechless, this was the Sheriff’s daughter, a straight-laced girl growing up, and she wanted her driver’s license picture taken dressed like a slut. She finally nodded and snapped the picture. Aimee leaned over the counter to see it on the computer screen. It was perfect. There would be no mistaking the thick collar, or the words on her chest. After the computer contacted the state database, it produced her new license. Staci printed it out and after taking her old license, handed the new one to her. Aimee thanked her and walked back to get her coat.

She was half way there when someone came into the office. She froze; it was Travis Dumas, a prisoner that was doing janitorial work. He whistled before he recognized her, it took him a second since he wasn’t looking at her face. When he did, he laughed and told her that he would cuff her anytime she wanted. She quickly put on her coat and left without saying anything. She had to do something, fast. Every prisoner in the jail would know by tonight. She got in her civic and left, rap music blaring away. For the first time, she cut it off; figuring that she could at least think with the porn on. It helped a little. The moans and screams weren’t as bad as the abrasive rap. She could call the jail and come up with a reason to get Dumas put into isolation. That wouldn’t help though; he would still be able to talk to other inmates. She decided to call LJ. He had told her to only call him if it was important, and this qualified, she thought. He didn’t answer, so she had to leave him a voice mail. She left it and hung up, frustrated. Now a black dominatrix was paddling a redheaded white girl’s bare ass in front of Aimee.

Aimee arrived at work still worried about what that little weasel Dumas talking. As soon as she got LJ alone she asked him if he’d gotten her voice mail. He told her to relax, that everything was taken care of. She showed him her new driver’s license, and wore the same outfit while he worked. During her first hourly call to the jail, she found out that a prisoner was being taken to the hospital because he had fallen in the shower and dislocated his shoulder, as well as broke a few ribs. She didn’t press the deputy for details, she was pretty sure who the prisoner was, and that he’d had ‘help’ falling. She hung up and thanked LJ for taking care of Dumas. LJ replied that he didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about, that he had been here cleaning up the admin building with her, and for her to get her ass over here and suck his dick. Grateful, she got down on her knees and started sucking.

He told her that she had an appointment tomorrow gave her the details as she sucked him off. He finally exploded in her mouth, cum dripped out as she tried to swallow it all. He un-cuffed her, and she went to clean herself up and change back into her uniform. She dropped him off with the deputy at the gate, got into her car, and drove home. She had the porn on more than the rap lately; it wasn’t nearly as loud and was at least mildly interesting.

The next morning she put on her leopard print outfit, complete with heels, collar, and bracelets. She drove to Greenville Ink and Body Piercing. It was early, there was only one person there, a thirtish Hispanic guy covered in tattoos. Aimee asked for Rico. The Latino guy replied that he wasn’t in yet, and asked her if LJ had sent her. She told him that he had, and he introduced himself as Juan. He told her that he could get everything ready, if she wanted him to. She agreed and he took her to the back where she met his girlfriend, Monica. Monica seemed to be more into piercing than tats, although she had a couple of the latter visible. Juan told Aimee to take off her dress. Aimee had no idea what LJ wanted done to her, but as long as he would keep doing ‘it’ to her, she didn’t care. She pulled the thin dress over her head and laid it on a chair. Her panties followed and Aimee was naked before them. Monica complimented her, and gave her a leer that confirmed Aimee’s suspicion that she was at least bisexual. Aimee was a little apprehensive of this, but only a little more than anything else that was going to happen to her today.

Juan helped her up onto a padded seat device that had rests for her legs sticking out in front of her at about a ninety degree angle, and two more going out from the sides, at about shoulder height. Juan explained that the seat was designed to give them total access to a client, so they could work. It would also keep the client still, so they would not accidentally smear their tattoo. With that, he and Monica spread Aimee’s ankles and started strapping them to their respective leg rests with wide leather straps. Aimee protested that it wasn’t necessary to strap her down, but Juan replied that she had to be absolutely still. He pulled another leather strap across her chest, just above her exposed breasts. Monica pulled a similar strap tightly across her hips, and then the straps on her upper thighs. This gave Aimee a clue as to where they would be working. Juan pushed a clipboard with some paper work in front of her. Monica pressed a pen into her hand and Aimee signed, initialed, initialed, signed, and initialed. The clipboard disappeared and they each took one of her arms and after pulling them strait out to her sides buckled wide leather straps around her wrists.

Aimee was now naked and completely exposed. Monica said that there was one more thing, and told Aimee to open wide. She did and Monica pushed something round that tasted like leather into her mouth. Aimee felt a strap being pulled around her head, and Monica buckling it in back. Aimee ran her tongue over the thing in her mouth. It was a hard ring, covered in leather it felt like, holding her mouth open in an ‘O’ shape. She tried to ask Monica what it was, but all that came out was a few incomprehensible grunts.

Juan and Monica both laughed as Aimee tried to talk through the gag then shared a kiss, with Monica eyeing Aimee as she did it. Aimee tried to look away, but strapped down like she was, she didn’t have many options. They finally stopped the make-out session after several minutes. Then, Monica produced a silver vibrator and smiling, walked slowly to the bound deputy. Aimee tried to scream, “NO,” but with the ring gag in, only moans came out. She tried to squirm, but the straps held her firm. Monica ran the vibe over her tits, and down her stomach. She toyed with Aimee, making circles around her now moist pussy. Still smiling, Monica reached up to Aimee’s head and grabbed her hair. Pulling her head down, she kissed Aimee right on her open lips, even pushing her tongue into Aimee’s helpless mouth. Aimee was disgusted; she wasn’t a lesbian, but she couldn’t stop her. Juan finally pushed Monica away and told her to knock it off. Laughing, Monica returned to his arms. Aimee endured them making out in front of her for what seemed like forever, but was about fifteen minutes. Then a huge Hispanic guy came in.

Aimee saw tattoos on just about every inch of visible skin. Juan called him Rico, and gesturing at Aimee, said that this is Aimee, LJ’s new bitch. Rico, who never stopped gazing at Aimee, told him thanks and pulled on a pair of latex gloves and got ready to work. He told Aimee that it would take awhile, and that he had something for her to listen to. He put a set of headphones over her ears and turned on the ipod connected to them. Shit, that fucking rap she thought as it blasted into her ears. It was too loud. She tried to get Rico’s attention, but he just smiled at her and picked up his tattoo gun.

Aimee’s suspicions were confirmed when the gun went to her crotch. She winced every time the needle hit her tender flesh. Rico noticed her looking down, trying to see what he was doing. He stood up and announced that he would put a stop to that. He stepped over to a drawer and returned with a leather blindfold. Aimee meekly allowed him to put it on her, shutting off her vision; not that she had must choice in the matter. He replaced the headphones and returned to tattooing her. Aimee only sensory input was the rap blasting into her ears and the tattoo needle just above her pussy. She had no idea that people were coming into the studio; friends of Juan and Rico, to see the smoking hot blonde girl strapped to Rico’s seat, and her interesting tattoo. Rico finished her tattoo and took a break. He got several pictures of his work, one close up would be blown up poster sized and put on his wall, for advertisement. Aimee was oblivious to all of this.

Aimee felt ice being rubbed on both of her nipples; she knew what was coming next. She felt the pliers, then a sharp pain in her left nipple, and then the pliers again and another sharp pain in her right one. Next, she felt the pliers go into her mouth, and tasted rubber. They grabbed her tongue, and Aimee felt one more sharp pain there, then the rubber coated pliers released her squirming tongue. Aimee felt a large steel ball in the piercing in her tongue.

Someone finally turned off the ipod, and the abrasive rap that had been blasting into her ears fell silent. The headphones came off, and then the blindfold was removed. Aimee blinked several times to regain her vision. She looked up and was shocked to see about a dozen Latinos watching her. They cheered and made catcalls and whistled as she turned red with embarrassment. She looked around for Rico, Juan or Monica, to release her and found Rico walking to her from the side. He had a digital camera in his hand. He took several close ups of his work, as well as several full body shots of Aimee, even telling her to stick out her tongue. Aimee looked down and saw the thick silver rings in her nipples between pictures. He finished, and finally started un-strapping her with Monica’s help who seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

Aimee was barely able to stand after being bound so long. She tried to look at the tattoo above her puss, but it was covered with a bandage. She didn’t seem to care that she was still stark naked but for the heels, bracelets, and collar in a room full of strangers. Monica finally unbuckled the gag and took it out of Aimee’s mouth. Aimee worked her jaw a few times to regain feeling in it. Smiling, Monica told her that her clothes were still on the chair where she left them. Aimee was about to try to push through the crowd when Rico announced that the show was over and everybody had to leave. Aimee waited for the shop to empty, then pulled on her tiny leopard print mini dress. Her panties seemed to be missing. Someone must have wanted a souvenir, she thought. She didn’t know that Monica was that person; and was in fact wearing them now.

Rico told her that Monica had gotten her credit card out of her purse and took care of the payment. Aimee was having trouble speaking with the heavy tongue stud, but Rico was used to that. He told her how to take care of the tattoo and piercings as she signed the receipt. She had gotten the credit card company to raise her limit again a couple of days ago. Otherwise, she would have had to make ‘other arrangements’ like she did with Tre’. Rico added that she couldn’t look at the tat till LJ saw it first. Aimee nodded and waved ‘bye’ as she left. She gingerly sat down in her civic, and with a shift of the dildo, watched porn on the screen while driving home.

Aimee arrived at work a few hours later, still hurting from the piercings and tattoo. LJ kept her naked and cuffed on detail, saying that he wanted to see her new jewelry. Just after eleven, he removed the bandage over her new tattoo. Aimee looked down and tried to see it, but couldn’t make it out because the collar she was wearing kinda hampered her looking down. Luckily LJ produced a small hand held mirror and held it so she could see. The first the she noticed was the big black cock, gripped by a hand. Aimee gasped when she recognized that the kneeling figure gripping the cock was her. The mouth was open, as if she were about to suck the cock, which was head height to the tattoo. The figure had a collar around her neck, bracelets on both wrists, and spiked heels sticking out from behind. Aimee’s new nipple rings were on the tattoo, as well as a tiny version of the tattoo itself on the figure’s crotch. In neat letters just about the kneeling figure were the words, “I LOVE LJ’S COCK.” Aimee knew that the humiliating words were absolutely true; she loved that massive cock. After a good fucking, LJ released her cuffs, and she dressed, then dropped him off at the jail.

Aimee watched two white girls fuck each other with strap-ons on the way home. The hard drive seemed to have a lot of girl-on-girl action, black-on-white, and bondage. The Blacks always seemed to be the doms, though. She arrived home and got ready for bed. Just as she was cuffing herself, LJ called. He told her that he was proud of her, and to do her best at the calendar shoot. She said that she would, he told her good night, and hung up.

Saturday was calendar shoot day. Aimee had several outfits, just what Tre’ told her to bring. She arrived at the shop and found a dozen cars waiting. Tre’ hustled her off to a back room and told her to show him her tattoo, that LJ said that he needed to see it. Aimee pulled down her skirt and thong, and showed him the humiliating tattoo. He said that LJ was right, and that Aimee was one fine bitch. She blushed and thanked him for the degrading compliment. He took her back out, and introduced her to the photographer, a skinny black guy named Cedric. Aimee spent the next several hours posing. She wore the miniskirt / tube top outfit in white, black, silver, red, and yellow, to match the dominant color on each car’s paint job. Tre’s girlfriend was also in some shots with her, holding a leash attached to Aimee’s collar. After several poses and dozens of shots with each car, Tre’ had Aimee change into her last outfit; the fetish cop outfit. They took some pictures of officer Aimee being handcuffed by Tre’ and his girlfriend. One shot, with Aimee’s car next to them, had a handcuffed Aimee looking over her shoulder smiling, while a leering Tre’ reached around her and grabbed her ass with both hands. At last it was over. Tre’ told her that she would get a CD with a copy of all the pictures on it. Aimee really didn’t care at that point; she just wanted to go home. She told him that that was fine, and left.

Forty-five minutes of porn later, Aimee arrived at her house. LJ called her later, and after telling her what a good job she did, instructed her to go to Liberty City, to Dianne’s Restraints, ask for Dianne, and tell her that LJ sent her. Aimee worried about spending more money, and voiced her fears to LJ. He told her not to worry about it, that he would help her out when he got out next week. He also told her what to wear the next day. She agreed to make the trip and after they exchanged good nights, he hung up. Aimee cuffed herself and went to bed.

The next morning, after checking the net for directions, Aimee headed out on the five hour drive to Liberty City. Driving with 6 inch heels and porn in her face was natural by this point. Aimee was wearing a black spandex miniskirt, and matching tube top. Collar, plastic bracelets and hoop earrings completed the outfit. There was a small difference with this outfit from the one yesterday, though. In big bold white letters across the front of the top was the word, “TITS,” and on the back of the miniskirt was the word, “ASS.” The top and miniskirt barely covered what they said, when she was standing up that is. The humiliating outfit left no doubt what she wanted the world to see.

Five hours of porn later, with a quick break for lunch, Aimee arrived at Dianne’s Restraints. She put her car in park, covered the dildo shifter, and walked in. There was a tall redhead behind the counter, who smiled at Aimee as she walked in. Aimee asked her if she was Dianne, and when she said that she was, Aimee told her that LJ sent her. Dianne told her how nice she looked, and how much she liked her top. Aimee showed her what was on her skirt, and Dianne complimented that as well. Dianne took her to fitting room in the back of the store, and had Aimee take off her mini and panties. Then she measured around Aimee’s waist, from her stomach between her legs to the small of her back, and a couple of other places. When she finished, she let Aimee dress and took her to the gags. Dianne told her that LJ wanted her to have a harness cock gag. She let Aimee look over the couple that she had, and Aimee picked one out to try on.

The one Aimee picked out had a black latex phallus that was the gag, with an oval shaped leather piece that would cover her mouth. A horizontal strap would go around her forehead, and another strap would go from the top of her head to below her chin. Dianne explained how it worked as she tightened the straps. On Dianne’s advice, Aimee tried to scream, only to hear how good the gag worked. No one would hear her more that a few feet away, if she screamed as loud as she could. She asked Aimee if she would take it, and Aimee nodded. After Dianne helped her remove the harness, Aimee told her how much she liked sucking on the gag. Dianne laughed, and told her that it was one of her favorites to use as well.

Dianne led her towards the checkout counter, but Aimee asked if she could look around a little bit first. Dianne was happy to show her around the store. Aimee let her strap her to the St. Andrew’s Cross, the spanking horse, and a bondage chair. Aimee even saw something that looked a lot like the chair that Rico had in his studio. Aimee tried on some shackles, and a bondage hood. Finally, Aimee crawled into a small cage and heard the ‘click’ as Dianne shut it. She put her hands behind her back and let Dianne cuff them through the bars. Dianne let her out after a few minutes and un-cuffed her. Aimee decided to leave; she could afford most of this stuff anyway. She paid for her gag, and Dianne told her that her other purchase would arrive in about a week. As she was leaving, Dianne suggested that Aimee wear the harness gag, to get used to it. Aimee agreed, and Dianne helped her buckle the straps into place, and handed her the keys to the three small padlocks that secured the harness. Aimee waved as she drove off.

Watching the porn and the road, Aimee felt the gag with her tongue. It felt a lot like a cock, except that she couldn’t push it out. She had to control her breathing so she wouldn’t try to gag and puke it up. She absent-mindedly stroked the shifter as she drove back towards Lee County.

Aimee must have been paying too much attention to the porn, because the flashing blue lights in her rearview mirror caught her completely by surprise. She panicked, glanced at the speedometer and saw that she was doing about sixty-five. She had no idea what the speed limit was, but knew that it wasn’t sixty-five. She grabbed the keys to the harness and tried to unlock it with one hand while she pulled over on the deserted road with the other. The car came to a stop and she tried to put the car in park, unlock the harness, and turn off the porn by taking the keys out of the ignition all at the same time. She got the car in park, and then pulled the keys out of the ignition. She glanced in the side mirror and saw the policeman walking towards her car. She was still trying to get one of the padlocks to open as someone stepped up to the passenger window. She looked over and saw another officer standing there looking back at her. Now the first one arrived at the driver’s side. He gestured for her to roll down the window. Frustrated and scared, she hit the buttons to roll them both down. The second officer was young, and let the first officer lead the way. This situation wasn’t in the training manual. The first officer asked for her license and proof of insurance. She reached over the passenger seat to her purse, and still working on the padlock with her other hand. As she fumbled in the purse, her eyes fell to the dildo shifter. Shit! She had forgotten about Mr. Shifty. She glanced up at the second officer. He raised an eyebrow at her; he had noticed the giant dildo too. The first officer impatiently told her to please hand him her license and proof of insurance. She stopped trying to unlock the harness gag and used both hands to get them from her purse. She handed him the documents and now used both hands to work the key in the padlock. The first officer interrupted her by telling her to please step out of her vehicle. With a sigh of frustration, she opened her car door with one hand. The keys slipped from her other hand, and fell between her seat and the console. She cursed into the gag and stepped out of her car, pulling down the hem of her skirt as she stood in the platform heels.

They escorted her to the back of her car, while she still pulled on the padlocks in frustration. They both seemed amused with her driver’s license picture, after the first officer showed it to the second one. They also seemed to find her troubles with the gag amusing; and made sure to get an eyeful of her, and to read her top and mini. For some reason they didn’t seem to believe that she was really Deputy Aimee Mills from Lee County. Aimee couldn’t talk, so she kept pulling on the harness gag. The first officer must of gotten annoyed with that, because he told her that he need to handcuff her, for her safety. She had been through the same academy training as them. They are probably just screwing with me, she thought as she turned away from him and put her hands behind her back. She didn’t think that they really didn’t believe that she was who she was. Aimee felt the familiar steel ratchet close around her wrists. The first officer patted her down, not that there were many places to hide anything with the outfit she had on. He then asked her if they could search her vehicle, and told her that they would get the keys to her gag. She nodded her consent and the second officer went to search her car.

The first officer had her face her car and lean over the trunk. She did, and he walked back towards his cruiser. After about thirty seconds of listening to the second officer rummage through her car, she glanced back to see where the first one was.

He’s looking up my skirt! Aimee stood up and turned around, shocked at the obvious lack of professionalism. The officer responded by pulling out his taser, pointing it at her, and threatening to tase her if she didn’t turn around and lean over her vehicle. Shock turned to fear, she had been tased during training, and didn’t want to repeat the experience. She quickly turned and leaned back over her trunk, but with her feet close together. He yelled for her to spread her feet apart, and she spread them to about shoulder width. He holstered his taser, walked up to her, and pushed her feet apart with his foot, one at a time. He leaned over next to her, and told her that there was no way she was Deputy Aimee Mills. That she must be pulling some kind of identity theft scam. If she were really Deputy Aimee Mills, then she would know that it was a state law to notify the state DMV of any changes in the appearance of a car; like the paint color.

Shit, I forgot about that, thought the cuffed and gagged deputy. If I could get this damn gag out, I could explain everything she mentally added. Another cruiser pulled up, and Aimee heard a door open, and then close. The first officer greeted the newcomer as Officer Baker, and Aimee heard a gruff but female response. Well, at least there is a female officer here now, so he can’t look up my skirt Aimee thought as the footsteps approached. Aimee heard her comment that the little slut had a nice ass, and the first officer chuckle in agreement.

Aimee’s blood ran cold. Shit, she’s a dyke, Aimee thought. She couldn’t stand the few bull dykes in her department. This one told her to spread em’, and bumped Aimee’s feet a few more inches apart. Now Aimee couldn’t balance in her tall heels, so she had to put most of her weight on the trunk, and her breasts. She heard the snap of a latex glove being pulled on, then another. Aimee felt someone, presumably Officer Baker, stand close behind her and begin to search her roughly. She felt gloved hands under her top, then they found her nipple rings and pulled on them, producing a squeal of pain into the gag. The hands moved down to her skirt, and under it. Aimee felt her then panties being pushed aside and a finger plunged into her pussy. Aimee gasped and involuntarily rose up the last half-inch or so off her heels to her tippy-toes. A second finger joined the first, as the other hand grabbed Aimee’s ass and helped hold her steady. Finally, the finger withdrew. Aimee breathed a sigh of relief, only to gasp again when a finger was shoved into her puckered asshole. Aimee screamed into the gag, more in shock than pain, though. After twenty seconds or so of checking her back there for contraband, the finger was pulled out. Aimee was still leaning over her trunk, almost in tears from the humiliating search.

The second officer returned to the back of her car, triumphantly holding the keys to her gag. He told her to stand up, and face away from him. He reached up and unlocked the three padlocks that were securing the harness. Only after all three were lying on the trunk did he un-buckle the straps and remove the gag from her sore mouth. Aimee was still working her jaw when the first officer came back from his cruiser.

He announced that he’d just gotten off the phone with Lee County Sheriff’s Department, and apparently, she was Deputy Aimee Mills. He quickly released her from the handcuffs, and apologized. Aimee was a little stunned, everything had happened so fast. She wanted to be mad, but more than that, she was relieved to be out from under the clutches of Officer Baker. They let her leave, but only after the young second officer, who introduced himself as Joe McCoy, gave her his phone number. Officer Baker also offered her number, and to, “finish the strip search,” but Deputy Mills politely declined her. She grabbed her harness gag and locks, retreated to her civic, and with a shift of the dildo, was on her way.

When LJ called that night, she told him what happened. He thought it was hilarious. He told her to think about that next time she got all high and mighty when she searched somebody. She protested that when she did a search it was part of her job, and she treated it that way. He replied that it was easy to see it that way from her side, but not from his. She admitted that that was possible. LJ told her that he’d see her tomorrow, and hung up.

She wore the ‘Tits and Ass’ outfit on detail, and to her mortification, LJ insisted on re-enacting her humiliating search. Aimee ended up having to ‘bribe’ her way out of a ticket by letting him fuck her, not that she wasn’t good and ready by the time he got around to it.

Two days later the package from Dianne’s Restraints arrived. It was a chastity belt, made of stainless steel, with a neoprene rubber lining, so it could be worn for long periods of time. She followed the instructions to put it on, even locking it. She wore it to work that night. LJ loved it, and since he had the key, he could take it off of her and fuck her.

The next day, which was the day before LJ’s court date, she wore a butterfly vibrator under the chastity belt to work. Per LJ’s instructions, she left the key at home. The butterfly was battery powered and remote operated. She had smuggled LJ the remote several days ago, before she had even gotten the chastity belt. She couldn’t even touch the butterfly, since it was under the chastity belt. Aimee was pretty sure what LJ had in mind. The first thing her shift had to do after coming on duty was to conduct a physical count of all prisoners. Aimee was counting one of the female dorms when it hit her; the butterfly that is. She gasped and tried to control herself. She looked around for whoever had the remote, but they were all standing and perfect attention; except for the few that heard her gasp, they were watching her out of the corner of their eyes. Aimee quickly finished the count, while trying to regain her composure. They moved to the next dorm and started counting it. The butterfly started again. Aimee was even more shocked the second time. The remote only had a range of about twenty feet, and with the thick concrete walls, there was no way it could work in both dorms. The confused and aroused Deputy managed to finish that count, and moved to the last dorm that her partner and her had to count.

It was the women’s maximum security dorm. There were only thirteen prisoners in it, so it didn’t take long to count. Aimee made it out without the butterfly going off. She was taking the count paperwork to the main control room when the butterfly went off again. She was still nowhere near LJ’s dorm. She dropped off the paperwork and retreated to the intake area. Every time she went to do security checks, the butterfly buzzed a few seconds. Finally, she left with LJ for his detail.

She asked him who he had given the remote to, and smiling, he replied, “Which one?” He went on to tell her that a buddy on the inside had made several remotes, and that he (LJ) had given them to some people that he could trust. Aimee begged him to get them back. She told him that if her mom found out about what was going on, she would have to fire her. LJ told her that he’d think about it. Since she was belted, she had to satisfy him with a blowjob. He rewarded her by keeping the butterfly buzzing till she came. She dropped him off with the gate deputy, and went home.

The next day, she dressed in one of the more conservative outfits from Bodies and attended LJ’s court hearing. Much to his, and her delight, the judge sentenced him to time served, and he walked out a free man. He left with his grandmother; he would be living with her, but spending most of his time at Aimee’s. Aimee went and picked him up, and took him to her place. They found time for a quickie before she left for work, and he made her even happier by bring seven homemade remotes to her butterfly.

A forty something woman that was serving ten months for possession replaced LJ on detail. Several days went by. Aimee was getting fucked pretty much non-stop at home, but somehow missed the excitement of doing it at work. LJ, on the other hand, had gotten his share of the profits from Aimee’s calendar shoot. True to his word, he had given Aimee several thousand dollars to help with her credit card debt, with the promise of more. Life was good for about a week.

Then her mother, the sheriff called her. She was furious at Aimee. She asked her daughter why the hell there was a giant billboard three hundred feet from the jail’s rec yard with her dressed like a slut handcuffed while some black man groped her ass? Aimee was dumbfounded for a moment. Then her mother asked her what the hell Tray’s fat customs was, and it clicked. The calendar shoot. Her wearing the fetish cop uniform and being handcuffed while Tre’ grabbed her ass. Shit, every prisoner would see the billboard. Her car was right next to her in the picture. They would all know that it was her. Deputy Aimee Mills. The sheriff’s daughter. Aimee must have missed something her mom said. Aimee told her that she could explain. Then she realized that she couldn’t. She couldn’t tell her mother that she had been having sex with a prisoner. That he had made her get that shit done to her car. That in order to pay for it, she had to do a practically x-rated calendar shoot for the owner of the shop. She told her mom that she would call her back, and hung up.

She went to LJ. He muted his new big screen that was in her living room to listen to her. He was pissed too. Tre’ was fucking with his game. He called up is homeboy and told him about the billboard. Tre’ was very apologetic. He explained to LJ that the ad company was placing the billboards, not him. He promised to make them take it down, and LJ told him to make it fast.

Ten minutes later, Tre’ called back and said that the billboard would be down by tomorrow, and that the ad company had already gotten a call from a Sheriff Mills of Lee County threatening a lawsuit over it. LJ thanked him and told Aimee the good news. Aimee called her mother back and told her that the billboard would be coming down by tomorrow. She didn’t mention Tre’ or LJ. Her mother told her to take the day off, but come see her in her office tomorrow.

As Aimee sat in her mom’s office, she tried to keep images of LJ fucking her on the desk out of her mind. As well as in the chair her mother was sitting in. Sheriff Mills told Aimee that she wasn’t going to fire her, even though anybody else, she would have over something like this. It was an embarrassment to the department, and an embarrassment to her. She told Aimee that she would limit her contact with prisoners, and the public. That meant that she would be working in a control room at the jail everyday, for the foreseeable future. Sheriff Mills went on to tell her daughter that this would cost her votes in her re-election next year, but she felt like she could survive it. Aimee thought so too, her dad had been sheriff for almost thirty years before he died, and her mom for another six. Then her mother asked her point blank if she had been having sex with LJ on his detail. Aimee hesitated a moment, then replied by asking her how she knew. That answered her mother’s question, albeit not directly. She replied that a mother could just tell, and that she wanted Aimee to be happy. Aimee thanked her, and after a hug, left.

Aimee called LJ and told him what happened, and that her mom knew about them. He seemed relieved not to have to hide their relationship anymore, and told her that he was moving in. Aimee told him that that would be great. Then LJ told her that he had another photo shoot lined up for her, and that he would make sure there wasn’t another ‘mistake’ like the billboard. Aimee asked him if she could think about it, and he agreed.

A week later Aimee did the photo shoot for Tre’. His business was booming. Every stall had a car in it, with several more in the back waiting to be pulled in. As Tre’ was showing LJ and her around, he told them that he was buying the abandoned store next to the shop, and that would more than triple is square footage. Aimee got one grand this time, plus a twenty percent share of the sales of the cd’s and videos. LJ and Tre’ got forty each. Tre’ told them that if the first shoot was anything to go by, profits would be in the in the high four figure range.

Working in the control room was so boring. Just pressing buttons to open doors all day. Usually only old or otherwise incapacitated deputies worked in them. LJ made her wear her chastity belt to work everyday, saying that he didn’t want some studdly prisoner to seduce her. After a few weeks of struggling to keep boredom at bay, Aimee started writing a story. What else to write about but what could happen when you don’t double check the gender of a prisoner before you send a deputy on a seven hour drive to transport him.