Too much for you to handle...

You can't believe what you see in the vehicle. There's dildos, cuffs, vibrators, clamps, sex toys of all shapes and sizes. And, there's actually some real evidence in there as well, some unmarked bags, dolls, and you figure there's probably some other stuff in the trunk.

What's important, however, is that you're naked, and cuffed, being taken away to a police station who's apparently been uploading video files to the internet about what's been happening to you so far. You have a thing for public exposure but this is something else enirely, some crooked cops using you for personal gain. This is wrong, but for the moment, there's not much you can do about it.

The ride continues in gloomy silence until you reach the police station. The officers get out, and you uselessly try to squirm away as Jim grabs for you, dragging you out as Frank opens the other door and starts loading things into a bag.

"Can't I at least get some shoes and a towel or something?" The pavement's starting to dig into your feet, but Jim's hold is unyielding as he drags you inside.

"We're out of towels." he replies, and you can hear him and Frank both laughing as he pushes open the door. Your cheeks glow red as you're dragged through the reception area, hearing the catcalls of other people waiting to be helped.

"Caught streaking, huh?"
"I'm not sure I'd call that indecent explosure..."
"Dumb slut!"
"I'll pay your bail if you stay like that..."
"Need help searching her, officer?"

The officer does nothing to stop the catcalls as you're dragged into processing to have your photo taken, and he does seem to take a long time getting thing set up with the other officers involved, and you feel the stares of the other criminals in line, and you see in their eyes what they want to do to you. Some of them get in some 'accidental' bumps or gropes in, but they are afraid of attracing the attention of the officers, and go no further then an occasional brush over your exposed body. Mercifully, Jim eventually comes over an undoes your cuffs and hands you a placard.

"Hold this when we take your photo."

"Um, what am I being charged with?" you ask, but Jim's only response is to glare.

"Hold the placard."

It's a sign to identify who you are for the police to process you, and you can't help but notice that, while yours has a number on it, it does not have a name or anything else. Eventually, it gets to your place in line, and you turn to the camera, using one hand to hold the placard at your breasts and the other to try to hide your privates, but the photographer will have none of it.

"Placard lower please. Held with both hands."

You sigh, and hear a catcall or two as you move it to just below your breasts, leaving your nipples and pussy explosed to the flash.

"I'll take her to interrogation." says Jim, and he grabs your arm, recuffing your wrists behind you. You can't help but notice they haven't done that for anyone else, and you see Frank in front of you now again and you follow them down a few more halls, and eventually come into a cold, sterile room. There's a metal gray table in the center, with a couple of chairs, a dingly floor, two cameras in the upper left and right corners, and a one way window on the right side.

You can see Fernandes waiting there with the bag Frank was packing earlier, and your cuffs are undone again, left hanging off of your leg wrist, as Frank speaks coldly.

"Get on the table."

You know what'll happen, but you need to assert some sort of control. "I want to see a lawyer. I haven't done anything wrong!"

Frank sighs, and motions to Jim and Fernandes, who grab your arms and lift you up, spreading your arms as Frank grabs your legs. "Not yet, you haven't...." Your left arm is cuffed to one table leg near the top, and Jim does the same to your right arm as you continue thrashing, **** to escape before you're restrained completely, but the table is bolted to the floor and has no give in it. Your thighs are spread, and your ankles are grabbed and cuffed to other two table legs, spreading yourself obscenely on display for the officers. The table is cold and grimy against your back and legs, clearly not designed for this, although it's obviously been used for this before.

While that is happening, Jim has gone over to the bag, and grabbed a dildo that, while not especially big (you think), does have some inconsistencies which you know won't feel pleasant inside of you. "You'll break eventually." With no fanfare, he lets you see it as you crane your head up to him, and he teases your tender opening before shoving it in you. You yell at the sudden intrusion, but it gets worse when he turns it on.

You're close to getting draped over the table, so the dildo is only being kept in you by your own pussy, but you struggle with your body being restrained to buck it out of you, and you look like your desperatey fucking it, and truth be told, you are. Jim smiles, and the 3 officers walk out of the room, turning off the lights as they do.

"We'll be back when you feel more talkative." You are now bathed in total darkness, naked and cuffed to a table, constantly having to fuck an inanimate object to get it out of you, and while you feel it slowly going out, it'll take a lot of time to do so, and you try to rest in between pushes.

But the vibrator refuses to let you rest, and you feel an orgasm building, and wonder how many you'll go through before you finally get rid of it. You moan, and you come for the first time in your 'interrogation'. But you know, not the last, and you resume your **** struggle to get it out....