In custody

9:43 am

You finish giving Officer Muncie a five-minute sanitized version of the morning's **** (after a much longer unrecorded and uncensored version of yesterday's activity). She's been a near-perfect lady the whole time; near-perfect because her soft rubbing of your thigh has left a pretty big wet spot on the blanket.

"Officer, ..."

"Heather."

"Heather, what about the blanket?"

"I'll tell them it's tears. Anyone with half a nostril will know better, but that's how this room works. You get your anonymity preserved and I get a little dyke-cred around the office, which will keep about half the guys off my ass for a few days."

There's a knock on the door.

Heather whispers. "When I open it, sit here and breathe heavily, like you've just been exerting yourself. Okay?"

You nod. She lifts you and sets you down in the chair, adding a second wet spot to the blanket, and gets the door. You cuddle up under the warm wool and pant while fingering yourself.

"What is it?"

"We need the room; Jones brought in a pimp who isn't playing nice. Also, there's some chick here to see you when you're done with Twicky Twinkie."

"All right, tell him we'll come out in a second."

You decide to play around a bit. "Please Officer Mistress; more please!"

She turns and shushes you, but from the look on the guy in the doorway's face, the deed is done.

She shoots you a look that's half you-bitch and half thanks. "Sorry, Miss de Carlo; we have to stop the 'interrogation' for now."

Heather helps you stand and leads you past the officer with the truncheon in his pants and out to the front room of the station. A blonde college girl in a pullover sweater and knee-length skirt is waiting at Heather's desk holding your shopping bag full of undies. She is practically radiating nervousness, and starts talking as you approach.

"OfficerMuncieIpickedthisuponthetrainandIthoughtyoucouldgiveitbackto-"

"Whoa! Are these Miss de Carlo's things?"

She nods.

"And you picked them up on the train and want to return them to her."

She nods again.

"Okay, both of you come with me."

9:46 am

She leads you back into the bowels of the station, to a small office with a coffee maker, file cabinet, desk, and a frosted window that would otherwise look onto the hall. It looks like something from a 1980's cop show. As soon as the door is closed Heather turns on her.

"Okay girl, what's the score?"

The blonde bursts into tears. You decide to step in.

"It's okay, Heather, I'll handle this." You turn to the blonde and exercise your power. "Calm down and stop crying. Now, tell me who those boys were."

"Th-they call themselves the S-Sophomore S-Seven."

"And how are you involved with them?" You radiate more calm on her.

"M-me and Sadie, my roommate, got invited to a party at an off-campus house. Ronnie, one of the boys, brought us upstairs. Then they stripped us and made me sit on Sadie's tummy and poured beer on us and made me and Sadie squeeze each other's b-b-fronts while they touched my bottom and pushed on hers. All of them! Then they kept us locked naked in a closet all night and let me out in the morning and said if I didn't do what they told me they'd do more stuff to both of us."

"And what were you told to do?"

"Gather up all your stuff and then take it to the police station about an hour after the police took you away. Here it is; can I go now?"

Heather takes over. "Not quite; wait here while she dresses."

You doff the blanket and put your shopping bag on the desk. Now that the fear is draining out of this girl you're feeling something else beneath it - titillation. A quick jiggle confirms her eyes are following your nipples like a hawk.

"Do you see something you like?"

She quickly shakes her head and pretends to look away while watching you out of the corner of her eye.

"Why are you watching my... front?"

She starts crying again. "I'm not! I'm not! Good girls don't stare at things like that!"

Okay, this kid's got issues. But they're not your issues and you really don't have time for them right now. You rub yourself dry (ish) with the wool blanket and then put on your socks, shoes, bikini and tee. At least your shirt covers the writing on your abdomen.

"Now, one last thing. What's your name, Miss?"

"Daisy."

"Well Daisy, I'd like to thank you."

She stiffens when you put your arms around her and plant your lips on hers. After a moment she hugs you back, and as it continues she starts pressing and releasing your back, which is making your boobs grind each other. When you release the kiss she keeps squeezing for a few more cycles until you gently push her back. She's panting slightly.

You turn to Heather. "Is that everything?"

"Unless you want to do that hug again. But I'd like both of your contact information in case we have more questions."

You and Daisy both trade contact cards with her on your phones, then you also trade info with Daisy. This whole 'Sophomore Seven' thing would bear investigation, later. For now you have to replace your wardrobe as much as possible and get ready for whatever Tricky Trixie has coming for you next.