Parade

The echo of the five officers' laughter bounced off the concrete walls of Block B, amplifying my humiliation. I stood there in the middle of the room, trembling with cold and a terror that kept me on the brink of collapse. My wrists, still rigidly bound behind my back by the steel handcuffs, forced my chest forward, stripping me of any way to cover myself from the group's scrutiny.

“Come on, walk! We want to get a good look at what the patrol brought in for us!” ordered the officer who had recognized me from the college photos, nodding toward me.

I was forced to step forward among them, trying to keep my balance in the stiletto heels while feeling my cheeks burn as intensely as my goosebump-covered skin. Without a single stitch of clothing, my body was left completely exposed to their leering gazes. It was then that one of the new officers leaned forward, narrowing his eyes as he took in my silhouette, recalling the details of the rumor circulating around campus.

“Well, gentlemen,” he remarked with a laugh that was immediately echoed by the rest. “Looks like the parking lot photos didn’t do her justice. The ‘package’ comes completely uncovered and ready for inspection. As good officers, we can’t ignore a case that requires such close attention to detail.”

Officer Ramirez pointed with his nightstick toward a gray metal table sitting in the middle of the room, directly under a fluorescent light that flickered with a annoying hum.

“To the table, Lola. Face down. We want to check if this ‘gift’ is as good as the cheerleaders promised in their comments.”

I tried to refuse, tensing my leg muscles, but a firm, rough shove to the back of my neck forced me down over the surface. I felt the ice-cold contact of the metal against my belly and bare breasts, which flattened against the table while my handcuffed hands remained raised and helpless toward the ceiling. The sound of leather being unbuckled filled the heavy silence of the basement. Officer Ramirez had removed his duty belt.

“Let’s see if this teaches you not to mess with public property and to respect authority,” he said in a husky voice, stepping up beside me.

The first blow came without delay. The heavy leather of the belt cracked through the air and struck directly across the exposed skin of my buttocks, right over the crimson area Clara had already punished back in the locker room. I let out a muffled scream that echoed off the tiles, instinctively arching my back as a searing, sharp pain spread through my fair skin.

“That’s for lying to us about being an innocent student!” shouted another officer, egging him on from the corner of the room.

The second strike landed immediately after, crossing the path of the first with cruel precision. The leather’s sting was far harsher than any open hand; I felt the fire rush up my spine while tears completely fogged my lenses, blurring my view of the floor.

“Alright, we’ve made it clear who’s in charge here,” Ramirez said, panting slightly from the effort as he wrapped the end of the belt around his hand. “Now we’re going to log the photographic evidence. Stay completely still, Lola. We want to document the subject’s condition before moving forward.”

With my body burning from the punishment and forced submission, I lay motionless, trapped under the weight of the situation. Under the fixed gaze of ten hungry eyes and the sudden flash of phone cameras taking in the scene, my total vulnerability was laid bare in that lawless basement.

“Gorgeous...” one of them whispered, stepping forward and bringing his lens close to capture a close-up of my exposed curves. “This is the best confiscation we’ve gotten on the morning shift. The glasses give you that ‘good girl’ look that makes this whole thing so much better.”

I stayed there, completely naked, broken over the metal table and shivering, painfully coming to terms with the fact that my image now permanently belonged to those men's private archives.