An open window

Several minutes later, Amy was looking out an open window into an empty alleyway.

It hadn't been easy getting here. She'd had to dart from bookshelf to bookshelf, hoping nobody in the crowd glanced her way during the few seconds of her exposure. Her heart was pounding. Her nerves tingled with adrenaline. The stakes were high.

But she'd made it. Without being seen. She'd memorised the blueprints of the library a long time ago, for fun. She knew the alley below the window was totally empty at this time of day. And there was a door in the next building over that led to the back room of a pastry shop, where hopefully she'd be able to find an apron or a spare uniform. After that it was just a simple walk back to the precinct.

Lucky she was such a good detective, or this could have really been a problem.

Now all that remained was to climb out the window, and land on the big pile of trash bags in the street below. Hard to do while handcuffed, but Amy was pretty sure she could manage it. She raised one long brown leg over the sill, ducked under the glass and shuffled around until she was in a position to slide gently down into the street.

Which would have worked perfectly, if someone hadn't greased the sill.

Amy slid. But not far. Someone, presumably the same person who had greased the sill, had thoughtfully positioned a picture hook just below the window. In the perfect place to catch the back of Amy's white panties.

She came to a stop. A sudden, uncomfortable stop.

She was hanging from the picture hook by the back of her panties, her long brown legs kicking in the air, several feet above the alley. Which meant something she'd experienced three times a day in high school and only very rarely since.

And she didn't like it very much.

Amy whimpered. The feeling of cloth between the cheeks of her ass brought back painful memories of being cornered in the locker room by the cheerleading squad. And her feet were touching something sticky.

She looked down.

Instead of a pile of soft trash bags, she was hanging above a large plastic bin, about her height. It was filled to the brim with what looked to her like whipped cream.

She sniffed the air. Definitely something sweet, at least. Probably taken from the dessert shop, only a few moments ago. Her toes were tracing patterns in the surface.

She tried to swing to her left, or her right, so she'd land literally anywhere else. It was impossible. And with the handcuffs on, she couldn't get any leverage to climb back up into the window.

She was stuck. Hanging by her panties. Until the panties snapped, and she dropped into the tub of dessert.