Chapter 4

Chuck Parker slept like a baby. He didn't wake up till nine the next morning. He might have slept longer, if it hadn't been for the frantic prodding of the houseboy, Waldo.

"Mr. Parker! Mayor Parker! Get up! Get up! We're in trouble! Mrs. Parker's been arrested!"

"Huhn, whazzat?" Chuck asked, bleary-eyed and still half asleep.

"Mrs. Parker's been arrested!"

"What are you talking about?" Chuck asked, waking up pretty fast on news like that.

Waldo screamed it at the top of his lungs. "I said Mrs. Parker's been arrested! She was at that hippy sex bar, The Lavendar Lick. And she was caught in a raid. She's in jail, I tell you!" he shouted.

"Pipe down!" Chuck said. "I feel like my head's splitting open. What did I drink last night?"

"You didn't drink anything. Don't you remember? You had a bad headache. Mrs. Parker gave you some medication."

"Hmmm," Chuck said, his arm on his chin in meditation, "that's right. I remember that. What did she give me? Where is Mrs. Parker now? I want to speak to her."

"Haven't you heard anything I've been saying?" Waldo wailed. Mrs. Parker's in jail! It's in all the newspapers. You've got to do something Mayor, and you've got to do it quick."

"You're right, Waldo," the Mayor agreed. "Get my office on the phone."

Waldo raced over to the phone, dialed the number and handed the phone to Chuck. "I'll get you your coffee, so you can hurry out of here."

"Hello, Suzy, this is the Mayor," Chuck began.

"Hello, Chuck darling."

Chuck covered the phone and looked behind him. No telling when that Waldo was listening in. "Suzy," he whispered, "don't call me that on the phone. On the phone it's Your Honor. On the couch it's..."

"I understand, Sir," she said. "It won't happen again."

"Suzy, have I gotten many calls about my wife's arrest?"

"All the papers, Sir. And the television stations. And your supporters. And Youth for Chuck Parker. And the Committee to Lower Grocery Prices and the..."

"Thank you, I get the general picture. What have you been telling everyone?"

"I've just been saying that they should await a statement from the Mayor."

"Fine. Let me do some hard thinking, Suzy, then I'll get back to you. You just keep stalling everyone, the way you've been handling it so far."

"Right on, Sir."

Chuck headed to the bathroom to shave and shower. What the hell was he going to do, Chuck wondered. Why had Pauline been at a sex bar? Was she out to destroy his career? What had gotten into that crazy cunt of a wife of his?

He'd have to come up with a plausible excuse for Pauline's behavior, but was there one now? Was there ever a reason for what Pauline did? Was her brain in her head or in her box?

Chuck thought of something. But would the press swallow it? He'd say that Pauline had been investigating The Lavendar Lick for him. She was working right along with the Vice Squad. Only the signals got crossed, and the raid took place a day earlier than scheduled. You know how government trips over its own tail in a big city like Eastport.

Would anyone believe that, Chuck wondered.

When he got out of the shower he called Suzy and told her the story. He instructed her to type up copies of the statement and send them out to the press. Meanwhile he'd drive down to the jail to bail out Pauline. He'd hold a press conference down there to clear the air.

Sure enough, the jail was surrounded by members of the Fourth Estate.

"Getting your wife out of the hooch, Your Honor?"

"What was the little woman doing at a sex bar, Mr. Mayor?"

"Are you going to retire from public office, Mr. Parker?"

Questions, question, questions. Chuck smiled broadly. "Boys, boys, calm down. You know you. always get the story straight from Chuck Parker. And this is no exception. Pauline, as you know, is very concerned about the reports she'd heard about the goings on at the ... what's the name of that place?"

"The Lavendar Lick," a woman reporter volunteered.

"Thank you. So she went there to investigate. The raid was supposed to take place the next day. Accidents will happen, you know. Even in the highest places. So, if you'd excuse me now..." he tried to break away from the cameras and cables, hoping to God they'd swallow his story.

He heard the guffaws behind him, of those who knew he was slinging shit and didn't like the smell. Oh well, maybe Pauline would have a reason for what she did. Either that or . ...

"Your Honor, one last question." He turned around. It was that handsome woman reporter from the Gazette, Muriel Oates.

"Yes, Miss Oates."

"Miz Oates," she corrected him, using the title of a Liberated Woman. "I'd just like to know what you think of Dean Crawford's announcement."

Chuck was struck dumb. "What announcement?"

Muriel Oates laughed. "Where have you been, Mr. Mayor? This morning Dean Crawford announced he was running for Mayor of Eastport. He said crime in the streets, drug abuse and permissiveness are the big issues in Eastport. Do you think your wife's arrest at a teenager's sex bar will be an issue, considering Dean Crawford's strong law and order campaign?"

Chuck smiled broadly. "Gee, Miz Oates, I guess you'll have to put that one to Crawford himself. I'm not running his campaign, you know. I'm having enough trouble with this one!"

The reporters laughed mildly, and Chuck trotted off into the station house.

Pauline was stretched out across the bed in the room they had given her to sleep in. The other kids were all herded across the hall. But once she had been recognized, she had been given a private room with a real bed.

And a private attendant. "May I get you anything, Mrs. Parker?"

Pauline looked up. It was the Sergeant who had been waiting on her hand and foot all night. She'd always liked a man in uniform, particularly a policeman. But she'd never gotten anywhere with one. They were all so law and order. One false move and they'd give you a ticket.

"No, Sergeant, I think you've gotten me everything I could possibly use. I don't think

I'll be staying here that long." Then Pauline smiled, to break the tension. "I haven't signed a lease, you know."

The beefy young sergeant broke into a wide grin. "That's a hot one," he chortled.

You bet your ass it is, Pauline thought. Then she got up from the bed and stretched. "Uramra. It's so restful here. So relaxing, you know. I never thought jail could be such a trip!"

"Well, I don't think that's everybody's experience," the sergeant said, casting a quick glance up and down his prisoner.

Pauline had turned back just in time to catch that flicker of desire in the sergeant's eye. Hmmm, she thought, never leave any stone unturned.

"I was so disappointed, though," she began, a bit teasingly. "I really expected the whole treatment."

"The whole treatment?" the sergeant blinked.

"Sure, you know, chains, handcuffs, grilled under a hot light, where were you the night of January 69. Don't you ever go to the movies, Sergeant?"

He smiled. "I see those things at the movies. But not down here, Miss."

Pauline laughed along with him. She lit a cigarette and curled up on the bed. "But surely, Sergeant, surely you must have some of that, what's the word? Hardware?"

"Well, we do keep a few things, you know, odds and ends."

Pauline dragged on her cigarette. "You know, I've never even seen what handcuffs look like, or any of those metal, evil things."

The sergeant wagged his finger. "Now, now, Mrs. Parker. Nothing is 'evil' but it's in the eyes of the beholder."

"You bet your ass!"

"Excuse me?" The sergeant straightened up, shocked.

Pauline thought quickly. "I said, 'could you get my glass, glass of water, you know, while you're getting those other things?"

"Oh," the sergeant smiled, "sure thing."

He opened the door. Then Pauline heard him quickly locking it from the other side. "Sorry I have to do this, Mrs. Parker, but you know the rules."

"It's no fun without rules," Pauline laughed.

The sergeant laughed from outside the door. "You sure are a heck of a good sport, Mrs. Parker."

Pauline got up from the bed and wandered around the small room. She was so restless. And she was absolutely dying to know what the papers had made of her arrest. But no one had any news here. They were cut off from the outside world.

Oh well, she thought, Chuck would get here soon. The expression on her bastard husband's face! That's what she was living to see! Didn't he know that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned! There's no passion as strong as a woman whose pussy has been passed over!

The lock was opened from the other side. "Don't be afraid. It's me, Mrs. P."

"Oh is it?" Pauline said, bored. What a stupid crock of shit, she thought. Who else would it be, a fellow prisoner breaking in?

"And here's your glass of water."

Pauline took the glass of water and put it down on the table. Then her eyes caught the reflection of the shiny metal.

"Ummm, so that's what they look like, handcuffs." She picked them up in her hands, fascinated by them.

"See," the sergeant explained, "they hold the captive to you in case you're afraid they might escape."

"So clever! And what are these for, people with fat hands?"

The sergeant laughed. "No, Mrs. Parker. Those go on the ankle."

"Like the chain gang!" Pauline exclaimed in delight.

"Now you've got it," the sergeant said. Pauline held them in her hand, getting turned on by the feeling of cold hard steel. "And what else is in your little bag of tricks?"

"Well, Mrs. Parker," the sergeant started smiling, looking down at the floor, "some of these things, like the handcuffs, are officially used by the police force. Others are sort of things we've..." he stalled, looking around for the right word..."things we've confiscated from criminals, perverts, you know the type."

After last night I know the type, Pauline thought. "I'm dying to see some of those things too, Sergeant," she said, implementing her most brilliant, sexy smile, a plan already hatching in her mind.

"But Sergeant, I don't want to get you in trouble. And I noticed that when you came in just now, you didn't lock the door. Now what if I clubbed you and escaped through that door to Mexico. You'd lose your pension, wouldn't you!"

The sergeant raced to the door and locked it. "Thanks for telling me, Mrs. P. That is a sticky problem. But I'm glad you understand. They're very strict about these kinds of ... what the hell!! "

Pauline laughed like a little girl. "Now you know I can't get away. Aren't I a good girl?"

"Mrs. Parker, what have you done?" the sergeant looked down at the handcuffs that now attached her to him. "Where did you put the key," he demanded, in a school teacher's tone of voice.

"Gee, I had it right here," Pauline said, pointing to the bed. "I can't seem to locate it now. Did you ever?"

The sergeant bent down to look under the bed. "It's not here, either. Why did you want to go and do that for, Mrs. Parker?"

The sergeant shook his head in dismay. He didn't know what to make of this red-haired woman. Was she a loony? A psycho? Or an overgrown child?

"Let's forget about the key, Sergeant," Pauline said breathily. "It'll turn up. Show me what else you've got in that bag of tricks. I'm your prisoner now," she laughed. Then she added, "You got me," in a teasing voice.

The sergeant walked with her to the sack he'd brought in. He opened it and dumped it on the bed.

"A whip! A real whip!" Pauline grabbed it in her hands. "I haven't had a whip in my hands since I was a kid in Colorado, on the ranch Daddy owned."

She lightly flicked the whip towards the sergeant, ever so gently grazing his crotch. He flinched.

"Watch it, Miss. That's a lethal weapon." Pauline looked confused. She pointed to the sergeant's crotch. "That's a lethal weapon?" she asked.

"No. I mean the whip."

Pauline removed other assorted chains, clubs and rods. "You've got a real supermarket here. Hmmm, a ball and chain."

The sergeant shook his head. "You've got no idea of some of the weirdies we get down here!"

"Oh, don't underestimate me," Pauline smiled. "I have some idea."

"Yeah," the sergeant mused, "I can spot a weirdie a mile off. I got a hidden meter in here," he said, pointing to his head.

"No kidding. A mile off, you can spot them. Is that a fact," Pauline said sarcastically, putting the sergeant on without his knowing it.

"Sure. I'm a professional. I know my job."

Pauline sat down at the edge of the bed. "My, these handcuffs are starting to hurt me. If only we could get them off. Maybe you should take another look under the bed for the key."

"I'll look again," the sergeant agreed. "But I'm sure it wasn't down there."

"I'll sit here on the edge of the bed and you crawl under and see if the key is there ... I'll dangle my arm down to give you a long rein."

"Sure enough," the sergeant agreed, kneeling down lower under the bed.

Pauline seized the opportunity to unlock her half of the handcuffs and attach the sergeant to the metal border of the bed. Her touch was so gentle, the policeman didn't even feel the change in his handcuffs partner. Not until he emerged from under the bed.

"It's not there, Mrs. Parker. Hey! What the hell happened!" He was completely dumbfounded. Now he was attached to the iron border of the bed and the red-haired Mrs. Parker was standing across the room laughing, the whip in her hand.

"Mrs. Parker, did you find the key? I don't understand. Are you playing games with me?" he asked, innocently.

"Don't you talk about 'games' with me, Buster," Pauline said, pretending to be angry. "I know why you brought these things. You wanted it, didn't you. Well I'll give you a 'game' you won't soon forget!"

The sergeant was totally perplexed. What was she talking about?

Pauline stripped open the gray blouse they had given her to wear and her huge breasts fell free from the starched greyness of the prison uniform. She rubbed them and massaged them.

The sergeant's eyes were popping. He'd never seen such beautiful round melons before. Pauline looked up and saw him staring at her. She approached him where he sat on the floor attached by the handcuffs to the bed.

"These fucking uniforms," Pauline complained. "What do they think a woman is made of-wood? This thing was killing my soft skin. Feel how chafed the skin is here." She pointed to her hobbling breasts.

The sergeant felt a tingling in his hand. It was like he had smelled something good and his mouth was watering. But now he saw something good and his whole body was watering!

He reached up to touch the perfect, round tit. Then his conscience hit him. "I think that's enough of this now. And you," he wagged his finger in disapproval, "had better help me find that key."

Whamm! Pauline lashed his raised finger with her whip.

"Don't you tell me what to do! I'm Pauline Parker, you fat crock of shit! Now I already told you what to do ... feel how chafed my soft tittie is."

The sergeant lifted his arm to feel it.

"Again!" Pauline commanded. "You could hardly have felt it that way. Feel it, don't tickle it! Grab it! Squeeze it!"

The sergeant squeezed the firm tit in his hand. It was so soft. Yet so firm ... yielding, pliant, supple. The perfect breast of a perfect ... but no! He was on duty! He was a policeman!

"All right, Mrs. Parker. That uniform is too stiff. I've corroborated your story. I'll make a note to the laundry department not to use that much starch on the tops of the uniforms."

"The tops!" Pauline screeched. "It's not just the tops that chafe my delicate skin."

She put down the whip and began to shimmy out of the dull gray skirt of the prison uniform.

"I'm even more sore down here, down where a girl is just so sensitive. Do you know what I mean, Sergeant? So soft ... so silky. And then they make us wear these horrible uniforms."

The sergeant's eyes were bugging out of his head. She had taken off the whole uniform and was standing there in front of him in just her panties. He gulped. What if someone should come in? No ... he'd locked the door. They were safe.

He'd do it, he would! He'd charge right on top of her and shove his lusting law and order up her criminal cunt.

"Ouuuch!! ! Goddam!! "

He'd forgotten he was still attached to the bed. He fell back hard on his ass.

"Why were you getting up? I didn't say you could get up!" Pauline feigned anger. "You're my prisoner now." She bent down and picked up the whip.

"I was getting up to go over to you and stick this prick up your goddam hot twat! 'Cause I know you want it, you cock teaser. You want it, don't you!"

The whip lashed out and attached to his prick. But gently. Pauline knew how to do these things.

"I'll tell you what I want when I want it. I'm making the rules here, not you!"

By this time the sergeant had forgotten he was a policeman. He'd forgotten everything but the rising mountain of meat that he wanted to submerge in that red-haired devil's duct. And he'd do it, by God! Even if the Mayor himself should walk in that very door ... he had to get inside this red-haired devil woman!

Pauline let go of his cock with the whip. She went over to the bag to see what else was in it. The sergeant used the opportunity to reach up and peel the panties off to reveal her pink, precious buttocks.

"Oh come down here, come down here, Mrs. Parker," the sergeant groaned.

"Cut that shit!" Pauline lashed out again with the whip. But much softer. And the sergeant noticed that she didn't bother to lift the panties up. Oh, if only she'd turn around, he prayed. If only he could see the red flame colored hair of that pussy!

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Pauline opened the bag. Holding just the whip in her hand, she approached the bed.

The sergeant watched her approach him. Even in this dim light that copper red snatch was as bright as the rising sun. Oh God, he thought, Fd like to rise inside there!

Pauline was smiling at him. She bent down so that her ample breasts were almost in his face. He reached up to lick those mammary melons.

With a laugh, Pauline pulled away. And the sergeant, handcuffed to the bed, was powerless to do anything but moan.

Pauline flicked him gently with the whip. "Want a touch," she teased, bending down low, proffering this time not her huge bulging boobs, but her tangy pussy. "Come on," she said, encouragingly, "I'll let you touch it."

"Hell, girl, I don't want to finger fuck your flaming pussy. Let me get my cock out and stick it up! That'll make you feel good, baby!"

Bammm! The whip lashed out.

"You do what I tell you to!" Pauline cried. "I'm mistress of these ceremonies."

"Well what is it you want, then?" he moaned. "Can't you see me bursting out of my head here? Let me go and let's go at it!"

Pauline squatted down low, almost shoving her copper-colored cunt in his face. "Smell it?" she said invitingly. "Stick your finger in." He obeyed her. 'That's it ... " she moaned. "Stick it in as far as you can go ... wriggle it around more, move it around more inside my box."

"You don't need to tell me how to do it. I'm an old hand at this!" the sergeant confided.

"Now take it out ... what does it feel like? What does it smell like? Good, I bet," Pauline cooed. "Let me smell it, too. Ummmm!"

"Honey, let me stick my cock in. It'll go further than this old finger. A cock in the box is worth two fingers in the bush," he laughed.

The whip lashed out around his neck!

"Don't you tell me how to run my cunt!" Pauline said in a scalding voice. "I'm the queen of my cunt and I decide who comes in my country! And your dick isn't getting past the border!"

"No?" the sergeant groaned dejectedly.

"That's right," Pauline said emphatically. "The answer is no!"

"Oh Jesus, honey, let me in that copper cunt ... let my big cock coil around inside you." He was wild with lust. Pauline wondered if he might have the strength to rip his arm out of the handcuffs.

"Hold on, tiger," she began soothingly. "I didn't say you couldn't get inside. I just said your big old cock can't."

"What do you mean?" the sergeant asked, genuinely perplexed.

"Think it over, Beefy. Are you a man or a cock?"

"I'm a man, honey. But I ain't small enough to crawl into your twat. Nature meant the cock to do the man's work!"

"Well listen, Cockeye, you're talking to Mother Nature. And I know tricks you never learned, Father Time. I say your fat old cock can't come in my cute little cunt."

"No?" the sergeant repeated sadly.

"But there are other parts of you, aren't there, Big Boy?" Pauline squatted down again, her squatting twat in front of his face. "You get the picture? Dinner's on the table! Stick your big tongue in and lap it up, Laddie!"

The sergeant stiffened up. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I don't eat pussy."

Pauline turned as red as her red-haired cunt. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. I'm a man, goddam it. I'll fuck you up to second floor! But I don't eat pussy!"

Whammm! The whip lashed out, this time inflicting real pain on the obstinate moralist.

"You'll eat my pussy or ... or..." Pauline thought for a second, "or III piss in your mouth!" She added the new addition to her sex catalogue learned last night.

"I don't eat pussy," the sergeant repeated obstinately.

Pauline was livid with rage. "Why don't you eat pussy?"

"I don't know," the sergeant confided, "I just never developed the taste for it."

"But you like that tangy smell, don't you ... you like sticking your finger up my warm twat, don't you?"

"I ain't complaining."

"And you like fucking with that cock, right?"

"That's the specialty of the house."

"Well, you need a balanced diet," Pauline smiled to him sexily. She squatted down again, cradling his head in her hands, moving it towards her warm glowing glow-hole.

The sergeant felt confused. It was true, he'd never eaten pussy. He'd been curious, all right. But he'd never done it before. But if ever there was a cunt he wanted to lap, it was this one. He reached over and stroked her soft red hair, the guardian forest to that pussy palace.

He felt along her love lips, he entered the very hole itself with his probing finger. What would it feel like to sink his tongue into this warmth, he wondered. To move inside it like you were sucking out the sweetest ice cream soda, or a mellow yellow banana split.

"Ummm," the sergeant mumbled. "Banana split, split those legs open for me and I'll stick my hot banana up that split twat."

Bamm!! The whip lashed out again.

"You mother-fucker!" Pauline shrieked. "I told you the rules of this game. Tongue it or leave it!"

The blood was busting his temples inside out! The sergeant was mad with lust for her, Hot damn, he had to get inside this hot devil of a woman! Just from poking into that pussy, he knew it was a furnace. 120 in the shade, the blood surged through him.

In a fast fury, he lunged at her and plunged his tongue up her dewy duct. Pauline moaned with ecstasy and moved closer to him, so that the sergeant could throw his free arm around her succulent buttocks.

One good turn deserves another, Pauline thought. So she reached over with her hand and grabbed ahold of the sergeant's sex, jerking him along to the same rhythm his tongue found inside her.

The sergeant was rolling on the floor with her, his tongue digging deeper into her duct, lapping at the juice as with her hand she stroked and stimulated his throbbing muscle.

Pauline pressed her thighs tighter around the sergeant's bobbing head. "Ooohh," she moaned. "OOhhh, how is it down there?

Aren't you glad I converted you, how is it?"

"Blubbb..." the sergeant mumbled as he sputtered through her sumptuous twat, his free arm caressing her fleshy backside.

She moved his big cock up and down in her hands, all the time repeating her commands: "Eat me, I'm the queen of my country. Eat it out, eat the queen's cunt! Eat the queen's quim!"

The sergeant's face was turning as red as the pussy he was eating. He'd been down so long, he needed fresh air. But he didn't want to leave! All his life he had wanted to eat pussy, but it had taken a woman with a whip to get him moving! He pressed his mouth deeper into her digs.

"Oh," Pauline moaned, throwing back her head. "Ohhh."

Deeper and deeper the sergeant sucked into that trembling twat. He felt the pulse of her pussy.

In a spasm of sex, Pauline reared back and climaxed, pushing the sergeant's head forward into that quivering coming quim.

Just then the door flew open.

Chuck Parker, accompanied by the warden of the Eastport House of Detention came through the open door.

Chuck stared at the scene in front of him and gasped.

"Oh my God," the warden groaned, also turning white as a ghost.

Pauline smiled up at them. "Hi, Your Honor. You'll be happy to hear there's no police brutality in Eastport!"