They take me home

“Ma’am, you’re under arrest on the charge of indecent exposure. You have the right to remain silent.”

I stand there in shock, my heart racing from the excitement, my nipples aching, my legs trembling.

“Alright lady, let’s go.”

One officer grabs me by the elbow, and pulls me along. The other walks alongside of me. They lead me up the hill and back through the playground. It’s not very light out, but anyone looking out of their window could see enough of my body on display in the moonlight. More than that, I think, these policemen can see everything, in intimate detail. I am so ashamed, and yet... somehow, I am strangely turned on by all of this.

I cast a sideways glance at the officer who has my arm. He is fairly tall, and through his uniform I can tell that he is fairly muscular. His grip on my arm is strong, forceful, manly. I look over to my other side. His partner is younger, more slender, cute face. I start to wonder what it would be like to have these two officers **** me to my knees, pull their cocks from their pants, grab my head and...

No! - Stop it, I tell myself. The itch in my pussy tells me that I’m getting too aroused by all of this. I have to control myself- these policemen probably can see my swollen pussy, and the moisture dripping from between my legs. I try to take shorter steps, to better shield my pussy from view. But the officers just pull me along faster, forcing me to take long strides, exposing my pussy to view with each step.

They march me down the path, back into the light of the cul de sac, back to the police car. We stop, outside the car, standing there under a street lamp. Why can’t they just let me get in the car, let me hide my naked body from the prying eyes I am sure must be behind the closed shades of at least some of the houses.

“Ma’am, obviously I’m not going to ask you for identification, so if you’ll just be truthful with us, we can get this over with more quickly,” the younger officer says. “Now, I need your name, date of birth, and home address.”

I truthfully give him the information, despite the humiliation I’ll feel if this ever gets out to family or friends. I have no desire to extend my ordeal by lying to them. The older officer jots the information down on a clipboard.

“Hey, that address is right around the corner, isn’t it?” he asks. I nod in the direction of my home.

“Tell you what. How ‘bout we take you home to get dressed before bringing you down to the station.”

I look at him, grateful for his kindness. “Thank you,” I say, with a smile.

I am helped into the car, hands still bound behind my back, and the car drives down the street. I am thankful to be in the protection of the car, even if the interior light does stay on. I can see the officers looking at me in the mirror, and I realize that sitting where I am, not only can they see my breasts, but they can see between my legs, right to my wet pussy.

The car pulls up in front of my house, and the officer lets me out of the car. I let a wet spot on the seat when I get up. My husband is sitting on the porch, an amused smile on his face.

“Sir, do you live here?” one officer asks him.

“Yes officer, I do. How can I help you.”

“We found this woman walking around the neighborhood like this. She says that she lives here.”

“Yes, that’s true. She’s my wife. Thank you for bringing her home, officer. I was starting to get worried.”

“Sir, we’re just here to get your wife some clothes to put on, before we take her down to the station. She’s under arrest for indecent exposure.”

My husband walks down off the porch, and approaches us. He looks me up and down, with a twinkle in his eye. Oh no- what could he possibly have planned now?

“Officer,” my husband says to the older policeman, “can I talk to you over here for a moment?” He gestures to the side, and the two of them walk away. I can see my husband talking to the officer, but no matter how hard I strain I can’t make out what he’s saying. Now the older officer is gesturing to the younger one standing beside me. “Come here a minute,” he says.

Don’t you dare move from this spot. If you run, we will catch you and charge you with attempted escape,” the younger officer tells me, walking to join the other two men. I stand there for what feels like an eternity, but in reality is probably only 2-3 minutes. I am too scared to move.

Finally the three men return. “I’ve got some good news,” my husband tells me. “These gentlemen agree that arresting you really wouldn’t do much good. It would just cost all of us a lot of time and energy, without really solving the problem. So they’ve decided to let you go.”

“Thank you so much!” I say to the officers. “You won’t regret this.” They just break into big smiles.

“You’re right,” my husband says, “I don’t think that they will regret their decision. You see, just because they’re letting you go doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be punished. These men have agreed that, rather than having the courts punish you, I should be the one to administer the punishment.”

“You!” I shout, wide eyed. My stomach is in knots, and I have a lump in my throat. After a few seconds, when I get over my shock, I look him in the eyes and say, “Okay. I can live with that, I guess. Let’s get these handcuffs off and go inside.”

He just laughs. “No, honey, I don’t think you’re getting this. Your crime was going out in public without clothes, and therefore that’s how you are to be punished.”

“What?!?” I whisper, incredulous. He doesn’t answer. He just turns around and walks over to our front porch, and sits down on the steps. I feel a hand on each arm, and I am pulled forward.

“No, wait, honey,” I plead, dragging my feet. “Not here, don’t do this here!” My protestations and resistance are useless. I am dragged to the porch steps, and before I know what’s happening I am sprawled, hands cuffed behind me, across my husband’s lap. My ass is in the air, and I feel exposed, helpless, and incredibly aroused.