Chapter 4

Cindy

I've been cooling my heels in the judge's anteroom for close to two hours and my blood pressure has been rising steadily. I would really like to know what is going on with this case. Something just doesn't feel right. My intuition tells me that there is a lot that I don't understand about the situation. "Why is Ron involved in this?" I consider. Why does somebody with nothing to hide have a lawyer waiting for me when I finally figure out who the perp is? Ah, Doctor Evans must have called this Mr. Jack after I confronted him at his office. But why did he arrange legal representation if they have nothing to hide? And, why did it have to be Ron? There are at least twenty other good lawyers in this little town.

I think back to the two times Ron took me out. I have to admit to myself that I was really attracted to him. I had every intention of inviting him into my apartment when he brought me home from our second date and letting nature take its course, but I suddenly chickened out and I don't for the life of me know why. Hell, I was ready to invite him in after the first date and let the chips fall where they may. Lord knows, it's been way too long since I've had a nice stiff cock inside my pussy and, from what I could tell from the bulge in his pants, he did have a nice one. And he was ready, especially when we got to my door the second time. Our kisses certainly were passionate and my pussy was soaking wet, but I just couldn't do it. He treated me so nicely and I just couldn't go through with it. I notice that a tear is creeping down my cheek.

"Officer Dowd?" the intercom squawks, demanding my presence.

I open the door to the magistrate's court and enter. He is looking down at me from behind the big raised desk and I feel small and insignificant.

He clears his throat. "Against my better judgment, I'm going to grant you your warrant to question the residents of Route 4, Box 341. I want you to exercise restraint in executing this warrant. In my opinion, this order would not be upheld upon appeal, so I don't want you doing anything that would precipitate a review. I hope you understand," he pronounces, reaching down to hand me the papers.

"Yes sir," I answer gratefully. Now I'm going to get to the bottom of this!

Laura

My kitchen, my refuge, is a wonderful hive of activity. Lucy and Ash have taken over fixing the coleslaw while I hold my newest grandchild. The rolls that the gals had so much fun making are in the oven and will soon fill the house with the glorious aroma of fresh baked bread. My granddaughter managed to get herself covered from forehead to waist with flour and Lucy was not spared a dusting here and there. It was a delight to see Ash interact with my newfound friend and neighbor. I can sense that Lucy really enjoyed their time together as well. The wistful looks that I saw her give the little girl could have been thoughts of the daughter she never bore or maybe of a granddaughter that has not yet arrived. And Ashleigh had a ball! Standing on the little stepstool so she could reach the countertop easily, she insisted on being part of every step in making the rolls.

Baby John is getting restless. I changed him when I went and got him from his bassinette, but I think he's hungry again. Remembering back to when his mother was only weeks old, I recall feeling like I had my infant at a breast constantly, trying to extract every drop of milk that I could produce. Those were some of the most pleasant times. He is getting fidgety. When I passed the door to the other guestroom on my way back to the kitchen I had noticed Maria and Annie at the dressing table working on her makeup, so I didn't bother them. I figured that they were almost finished and I expected her a little sooner than this.

Even though I knew what they were up to, I'm not prepared for the results when the two young women come into the kitchen. "Wow," is all that I can think to say as I see my daughter. She is absolutely radiant. Her hair is a mass of fiery curls surrounding her head. Her eyes are brilliantly highlighted by the most subtle of makeup. Mascara, eyeliner and eye shadow all blend to perfection. Her naturally glowing facial skin tone is slightly muted by a very light application of foundation, just enough to mute any shininess. A touch of color on her high cheekbones and a subdued gloss on her smiling lips finish the magic that Maria has wrought. Her entire body shimmers with what must be a liberal coating of moisturizer and her bright red fingernails and toenails provide a splash of color to attract the eye.

"You're beautiful, Mommy," says Ash, in awe, and dashes over to give her a hug. Maria intercepts the little girl and scoops her up in her arms, getting covered with flour in the process.

"Thank you, dear," replies Annie and reaches for the baby.

"I'll bet that you're hungry, aren't you?" she coos at him and is rewarded with a big smile on his little face.

"Are you girls done cooking?" inquires Maria. Looking at the squirming girl in her arms, she continues, "Why don't you go upstairs with your Grandmother and help her take a shower. Then we'll make you beautiful like your mom. OK?" She is looking to me for the answer. I give her a wink.

"Yes! Come on Memaw! Let's go," Ash squeals in delight as she wriggles out of Maria's grasp and dashes over to grab my hand.

"Come along, Lucy, we'll get you in the downstairs shower," orders Maria.

"Me? You don't have to do anything for me," protests Lucy, but doesn't resist when Maria takes her hand firmly and tugs her toward the downstairs bath. Ash and I head upstairs to the master bath in anticipation of a delightful grandmother and granddaughter shower. Along the way, I notice that my daughter is relaxing in the recliner in the living room, with her son at her breast, gazing out the panoramic windows at some distant object that probably isn't there for anyone else to see. She looks content and I am so relieved.

"Come on, Memaw!" a tug on my hand brings my wandering mind back to the present and I follow the little girl up the stairs.

Ron

"That was Uncle Mike. Cindy Dowd has her warrant and she's probably on her way here now. Doc was right; you were seen by a neighbor carrying Ashleigh into his office. She reported it as possible child abuse," I update Jack. It's the seventh inning and not a particularly exciting game. "I better get down to the other house and get ready to greet her. Is there room for another dinner guest?"

"We'll make room," Jack replies. "But, Doc told her that there wasn't any indication of abuse. Why is she so determined to investigate hearsay?"

"I don't know. What I do know of her is that she is a very thorough and conscientious officer. She is well thought of by the other Deputies that I know as well as the prosecuting attorney's staff. She specializes in Domestic Relations and is the officer that they call whenever there is any hint of child abuse. She was instrumental in nailing that elementary school teacher a while back. The times that I've faced her across the courtroom, she has always been well prepared and professional to a fault," I answer, considering whether her professional regimentation might be more than what is required for her occupation. Hmmm, I wonder. No, that would be too much to expect, but just maybe.

As I wander back down to the old house, I formulate a plan in my head. I pull Jack's ATV with the high pressure tires out of the barn and park it in the shade behind the house. Then I let myself in and sit down at the kitchen table to await Cindy.

I don't have long to wait. She obviously didn't waste any time getting here. Pulling her cruiser into the yard, she parks next to Billy's truck. It's the exact same location that she parked previously. She strides purposefully up the steps to the porch and knocks firmly on the door.

I open the door immediately and invite, "Please come in."

She flashes me the search warrant with a satisfied look on her face and then notices my nudity, "You're not wearing any clothes!"

"That's correct," I reply, taking the papers from her and examining them. She doesn't move, dumbfounded.

"What is going on here?" she demands.

"Everything looks to be in order," I comment handing her back her warrant. "My clients have asked me to invite you to join them for dinner. We should be able to answer any questions that you have at that time."

"This is highly unusual," she remarks.

"So," I venture my first attempt, "please take off your clothes and come with me".

"What? Why should I take off my clothes?" she demands.

"Because my clients are honoring a New Zealand custom by celebrating Nude Day and you are invited to join."

"But," she stammers, and then regains her poise, "I am investigating a crime in my official capacity and I must remain in uniform at all times."

"You are only required to be in full uniform while on duty, Deputy."

"That's what I said," she has fire in her eyes now.

Looking at the clock on the wall, I calmly say, "As of five minutes ago, you were no longer on duty."

The look in her eyes changes quickly. She glances at the clock and realizes that her shift did end at 5:00 PM. "But, I'm still functioning in my official capacity and I can still investigate a crime while off duty."

"Correct," I agree, "But, when off duty, you are only required to carry your badge and your pistol to be considered in uniform. Take off your clothes."

She responds to my command by starting to unbutton her uniform shirt. Then she pauses and asks in a meeker tone, "Why should I be undressed?"

"Departmental guidelines, which I'm sure you were issued a copy of, state that officers should carry out their duties in a culturally sensitive manner. The culture that my clients are honoring today calls for all participants to be nude. You may put your belt back on to accommodate your badge and pistol. Take your clothes off."

The look on her face is one of a deer in the headlights. She removes her hat and belt and puts them on the kitchen table. Then she slowly and haltingly takes off her shirt, exposing her vest underneath. "I don't want to do this, Ron," she says adding her vest to the shirt on the table.

"But you will," I think to myself. "You will not be the only clothed person at the dinner table," I insist. "Take your clothes off," I reiterate my earlier command and I'm rewarded when she removes her shoes and anklets and unbuttons her pants and takes them off. She carefully folds the pants and adds them to the pile of clothing on the table. Now she is standing in front of me with her head down, dressed only in her modest white bra and panties. She clasps her arm around her chest, trying to cover her embarrassment.

My instincts tell me that I'm right so I press onward, "You are angering me! I clearly told you to take your clothes off! Do you understand what I expect of you?"

A tear forms in the corner of her eye, but she obeys. She reaches around behind her and unfastens the clasp of her bra. Sliding it off her shoulders, she reveals a shapely pair of breasts with the daintiest of areolas pointing slightly upward on their tips. Her nipples are just noticeable in the centers. I notice that her boobs are only slightly lighter than the rest of her tanned skin. She must do some of her sunning topless, I surmise.

She folds the bra and then pulls her panties down and off without hesitation. My suspicions are confirmed when she reveals a much lighter band of skin encircling her hips and dropping down to include her carefully shaven pussy. A small postage stamp sized patch of neatly trimmed pubic hair at the top of her slit confirms that she is a true brunette. All in all, a very attractive package of femininity. Her panties join the stack of her things on the table and she stands there with her hands at her sides awaiting my next command.

"I want you down on your knees with your arms at your sides and your palms out. NOW!" I insist.

"Don't do this to me, Ron," she whimpers. But she slowly drops down and assumes the position that I specified. There are tears in both eyes now.

"Spread your knees apart," I instruct. "Wider"!

I now have her in the classic submissive pose and I slowly circle around her to inspect my handiwork. Her nipples are a little more erect. Her fingers are quivering, revealing that her body is shaking gently. "I want you to listen carefully to my instructions. If you fail to do what you are told, you will have to be punished."

"Please, Ron..."

"Quiet! You will only address me as 'Sir' for the rest of the time that you are on this property. You will only respond to direct questions unless you are given permission to speak. You will respond to all questions respectfully and politely. Do you understand?" I continue circling her kneeling figure slowly. This is turning out better than I had imagined.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" I demand sharply.

"Yes sir," she answers with a trace of fear in her voice.

"That's better. Do not make me angry with you."

"Yes sir." More tears now.

"Remember the position that you are in now. If you are not specifically told to sit in a chair, you will assume this position at my side whenever I am seated or standing still. Do not make me remind you." I pause for effect.

"Yes sir."

"Whenever we are walking together, you will walk at my right side and one pace behind me with your hands clasped behind your back. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," she begins to sob.

I am behind her where she can't see me. I reach out and abruptly snatch the hair tie from her short ponytail. Her head snaps back, her eyes wide open and her hands fly up to her head.

"Did I say that you could move?" I demand harshly.

"Uh, no, you didn't." Her head snaps back forward and her hands drop.

"I didn't what?" I'm louder now, more demanding.

"You didn't, SIR. I'm sorry. Please don't get mad at me," she says, starting to sound properly desperate.

Her hands are clasping and unclasping. I chose to ignore it, but when she starts sobbing again, I have to act. Still out of her sight, I reach down and start gently running my fingers through her hair, freeing it from its tight ponytail. It fluffs out nicely and I can feel her body relax slightly. When her hair is loose enough, I run my left hand up from the back of her neck, fingers spread. Suddenly I firmly grab a handful of her hair and snatch her head back, turning her face up to look at me. There is panic in her eyes now.

"If I hear any more of that sniveling, you will be severely punished," I say menacingly and her breathing stops.

"Do you understand?" I demand, releasing her.

"Yes sir," she gasps.

"Stand up," I command and she rocks back onto her feet and gracefully complies. I let her stand there and continue circling her. I notice that her nipples are quite erect now and I think I can detect the aroma of her arousal. "We're getting there," I think to myself. She's blushing lightly.

"Put on your belt and clip your badge to it." She complies wordlessly.

"Follow me," I tell her and begin walking toward the back door.

"Where are we going?" she whimpers and then remembers, "Sir?"

I stop dead in my tracks and she gasps as she almost runs into me. I slowly turn around with the sternest look on my face that I can muster. She looks at me momentarily and then wordlessly sinks into her kneeling position.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" I ask in slowly measured tones.

"No sir."

"No sir WHAT?" I demand.

"No sir. I'm sorry that I angered you. I spoke without permission," she stammers.

"You have already earned two punishments that you will regret later. Please be more careful, from now on," I command. I've got her now.

"Yes sir. I'll be more careful."

"Follow me." We continue out the back door and walk over to the ATV. I stop, turn around and look at her. She kneels.

"In answer to the question that you did not have permission to ask, there is another, newer house on the property. It is a few hundred yards from here. It is now my clients' principle residence. We will ride there on this ATV. When we get there, you will be introduced to my clients and the other dinner guests. You will be allowed a short period of time to question anyone here concerning your investigation. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir. May I have permission to speak?"

"Speak."

"I will need my notebook to take my notes in, sir."

"No you won't. I'll provide you with any particulars that you need another day. I assure you that there is nothing to investigate."

"Yes sir."

"After you complete your questioning, I will sit down in the living room and you will kneel beside me until dinner is served. Then we will move together to the dining area and you will sit on a chair beside me with your hands clasped behind your back and you will not move until I tell you that you may. Do you understand?" I continue.

"Yes sir."

Cindy

Why is he doing this to me? Why? Why? Why? Why am I letting him do this to me? I have never been so humiliated in my life.

"Stand up," he says and I jump to obey. My legs are shaking. My whole body is shivering.

"I want you to straddle the ATV and put your hands in front of you on the gas tank."

I climb up and sit down on the ATV and do what he told me.

Once I'm seated, he orders,"Take your feet off the pegs. I'll need to use them." I let my legs hang free. My already damp pussy is pressed into the seat. What does he plan to do to me?

"And I didn't tell you to hide your breasts. Spread your elbows." I comply as he steps to the front of the ATV. He reaches over and grasps one of my already stiff nipples in each hand. Pinching them almost painfully, he tugs my breasts up and away from my chest. I gasp as very mixed emotions flood my nervous system. Pain. Excitement. Fear. What else, I don't know.

Holding my breasts out, he instructs, "Now you may close your elbows," and I do until the shoulder strap of my patrolman's belt cuts into the insides of each breast. Again, I gasp as my arms recoil.

"I said to close your elbows," his voice is firm and I do my best to ignore the pain as I comply. Once he is satisfied, he gives my tender nipples another sharp pinch and releases them. Oh my God, that hurt. My aching breasts are thrust out lewdly by the pressure of my arms. My pussy is wetter still.

He climbs up on the seat behind me and I can feel his flaccid manhood between the cheeks of my ass. Its size is impressive even limp. My pussy is purring. And then he starts the engine and lets the ATV idle. The vibrations of the engine transmit directly through the seat into my pussy. My knees clutch at the sides of the fuel tank and I try to lift my overheated sex off the seat.

"Your legs are in the way. Spread your knees further apart," his harsh voice demands. The tears are pouring down my cheeks, but I can't do anything but comply. I do as he tells me and he grabs my ankles, pulls my legs back and hooks my feet inside his knees. OH, GOD! Now my clit is pressed into the gently vibrating seat. The sensations are so intense that I can't stand it.

"I'm going to drive slowly for safety purposes," he announces and lets the machine start creeping across the yard. The least little irregularity in the ground sends shock waves through my sensitized clit. I'm gritting my teeth and every muscle in my body is tense. The pain of the belt cutting cruelly into my breasts is almost forgotten amidst the waves of pleasure that are coursing through my body. I consciously force my clit to calm as the bumps and jolts become more regular and I become more accustomed to the sensations. But my pussy is leaking all over the seat and the insides of my thighs. My scent is unmistakable. I can feel Ron's dick respond to my pheromones.

As we begin to climb the grassy incline, he starts to work the throttle on and off and the ATV speeds up and slows down in a jerky motion. This is too much for my poor clit and I start to moan aloud.

"Oh. Oh. Oh. OH!" comes from my throat in spite of my best efforts to suppress them. He stops the machine suddenly.

"Are you cumming?"

"Oh, yes, I'm right there," I groan, "why did you stop?"

SMACK! The sudden intense pain in my ass shoots through my entire being.

"Oh, I'm so sorry sir. Please don't punish me, sir," I beg hysterically, my orgasm a thing of the past.

SMACK! The other ass cheek is now on fire.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I'll be good. I promise," I blubber like a baby, tears streaming down my face.

"You are not allowed to cum without my permission. Do you understand?"

"Sir?"

"If you cum without my permission, you will be most severely punished. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes sir," I agree in confusion. How can I control my orgasms? Especially when he tortures me like this.

"Tell me what you just learned."

I reply, incredulous that I could even consider such a thing, "If I cum without your permission, I will be severely punished."

"Very good," he says and the ATV starts jerking up the incline again. I can see our destination in the distance. It looks as if it is so far away. The friction of my poor swollen clit against the slick jerking seat is impossible to ignore. I try to ease forward to put more of my weight on my hands and raise my pussy off the seat, but he notices and presses his left hand directly in the small of my back, defeating my effort. We're no where near there yet and I can feel the orgasm lurking in my belly, building in strength.

I know that it is futile, but I have to try, "Permission to cum, sir. Please sir."

"No."

"AAAaaaauuugggghhh!" I wail, risking another punishment. But he refuses to relent and I'm forced to drag up every ounce of willpower that I possess to hold the blessed relief at bay. How I do manage to hold it off until the machine comes to a stop will always be a mystery. My entire body is one huge overexcited nerve ending. I'm shaking so badly that my breasts are quivering. My breathing is ragged and uneven. He climbs off the machine and stands next to it. I gasp for breath and, suddenly realizing where I am supposed to be, I ask, "Permission to get down, sir?"

"You may step down. You did very well."

I carefully climb off the soaking wet seat and slide to my knees at his feet. My clit is on fire and my ass cheeks are still stinging from his slaps. The insides of my breasts are chafed raw from where my belt cut into them and I'm relieved that I can be on my knees at his feet. My emotions are totally confused. I don't know what I'm doing or why. I'm physically excited and mentally drained. Why am I doing this?

"Stand up."

"Yes sir," I say as I comply.

"Do you see this mess you made on the seat?"

"Yes sir," I reply, seeing my glistening pussy juices spread over the front part of the seat.

"Well, we can't leave it for someone else to ride like that, can we, pet?" he asks.

"No sir."

"Well, clean it up, pet."

I make the mistake of starting to reach out my hand to wipe the seat.

"Did I give you permission to use your hand?" The tone of his voice snaps me back to this weird reality and I jump back to standing next to him with my hands behind my back. My mind races to try to figure out this latest puzzle, but he spares me my confusion. Grabbing a handful of the hair on the back of my head, he pushes me forward and down with the same motion. I bend over and, as my nose comes closer to the seat, my mind suddenly grasps what he wants me to do. But I can't. He holds me there, bent over at the waist, my nose only an inch from the vinyl that is slick with my pussy juices and waits. Finally, I gather every bit of strength and courage that I can find, stick out my tongue and tentatively try a short exploratory lick.

"Good girl. Spread your legs apart," he directs and I quickly comply. After the first lick, I close my eyes and try another. It isn't all that bad. He directs my tongue around this side of the seat with gentle tugs on my hair until he is satisfied that every bit of it is clean. Now I'm pulled back upright.

"Do you think that you can do the other side by yourself, pet?"

"Yes sir, if I may have permission to move around to the other side," I state.

"You have my permission to move around to the other side and finish cleaning the seat. Just remember the correct position," he directs.

I walk around to the other side of the ATV, facing away from the front door of the house, spread my legs apart wide and bend over at the waist to lick the rest of the seat clean. My ass and my pussy are on full display for anyone in the house to see, but that doesn't seem to matter to him and so I can't do anything about it. I'm crying silently but I must have run out of tears, because they don't seem to come.

"Well done, pet. You did a good job," he says, walking around the machine to my side and then he shocks me to my core by taking a handful of my hair and pulling my pussy juice coated lips to his and kissing me deeply. I'm absolutely paralyzed. I don't have any idea how to respond so I just kiss him back. His kiss doesn't last long but it leaves my head spinning. Then he amazes me further by kissing the end of my nose to clean off the slick film there and then licking my chin clean with his tongue.

"Thank you, sir," I say in a daze.

Jack

"Well, that game was really exciting, eh?" I whisper to Billy, pointing toward the twins. Both boys are sound asleep in their chairs in the theater. I turn off the system and Billy and I climb up the stairs to the living room. Annie is relaxing in the recliner with the baby on her shoulder.

"Don't you look like something? Got a hot date tonight?" I ask her. "Where is everyone?"

"The only hot date I've got tonight is with a comfortable bed. I'm only about 15 hours worth of sleep behind. Maria is working her magic on the other girls, in answer to your other question."

"Oh, this will be something to see. Don't the rolls smell good?" I say sniffing the air. "Could I get you something to drink?"

"Not for me thanks," replies Annie.

"Do you have a cold soda?" requests Billy from his perch on the sofa.

"I'll check." I'm heading for the kitchen when Ron comes in the foyer from the front entryway. Just behind him and slightly to his right is a young woman with a black belt around her waist and over one shoulder. I look closer and notice that she is armed.

"Jack," Ron begins as the woman drops to her knees at his side, "I'd like to introduce you to Deputy Cynthia Dowd of the Sheriff's Department. Pet, this is R. Jackson Horton, one of the principal owners of this property and one of my clients." He tilts her head back with his hand under her chin so she is looking up at me.

"Delighted to meet you," I mumble, wondering what the hell is going on.

"You may speak, pet," Ron orders.

"Delighted to meet you too, Mr. Horton."

"Please call me Jack."

"Yes sir."

"I was just on my way to get Billy a soda. Would you care for something to drink?" I ask them both.

"I'd like an ice tea, please, and the deputy will have a glass of ice water with lemon, if it's not any trouble," Ron orders. "We'll be in the living room."

Ron walks toward the living room and the deputy springs to her feet and follows. When Ron lowers himself down to sit in one of the wing chairs, the young deputy scurries around and kneels at his side.

He tilts her head back again and says, "The new mother over there is Anne St. James, known to her family as Annie, and she is holding her son John. She is the eldest daughter of Laura Martin who is the other principal owner of this property and my other client. Laura and Jack are not legally married, but Laura's grandchildren all know Jack as their Papaw, so please do not do or say anything that might confuse them on that matter."

"Yes sir."

"And you have already met Billy Walker, isn't that correct, pet?"

"Yes sir."

Jack returns with the drinks and Ron takes both of the glasses that Jack offers. He carefully places the glass of ice water on the table and sips from his iced tea. "Very good. Thank you, Jack." Jack sits down in the chair that matches Ron's. He looks down at the kneeling deputy in between their chairs and then up at Ron quizzically.

"Jack, would you mind answering some questions that the deputy would like to ask you?"

"No, I'd be delighted to," I reply. I'm really beginning to wonder what is going on. Is she hypnotized or something? I decide to fight back my curiosity and let Ron explain everything when he sees fit. Since he's my sponsee, I know that I'll hear everything eventually.

"You may speak, pet."

"Mr. Horton," she begins choosing her words carefully, "did you drive Mr. Walker's truck into town today?"

"Yes, I did."

"And while you were in town, did you deliver a child to Doctor Evans at his office for treatment?"