Their little town was as far rural as one could go, almost isolated from the bustling cities with a population so tiny everyone knew anyone. That's why when Helen was convicted for public indecency, it was spread far and wide... See, the poor woman had a few too many drinks while spending time with her coworkers... and was caught a moaning whore on the sidewalk bench with her tight dress bunched up in the middle as she played with her body in the early hours of the morning.
Now, that shouldn't have warranted her punishment of life sentence in one of the police department's few holding cells... but it was no secret the force had nothing but men who worked hard and tirelessly... and an open secret once the town heard as to the true motive behind such a punishment for Helen who had no family or boyfriend... with friends who weren't close enough to protest or really care on her behalf.
So there she was, lead into the station on her first offense and final offense. Helen wasn't a vain woman, but she knew how she looked... Short, ash brown hair was styled so the front framed her face as the back was cut close for a velvet feel. Her eyes were hooded, appearing naturally seductive with their soft grey hues. When paired with bow-shaped, pale pink lips, a slender nose, and tanned skin that had pale areas where she wore a sports bra and track shorts not much bigger than high-waisted briefs... She was in a sense a very lovely and fuckable woman...
Proven all the more as she was arrested and brought to the station cuffed but still with her dress clustered around her waist with her underwear left behind for some lucky person to find.
When she'd arrived, not even given court and simply sentenced then and there, her clothes were ripped away as she was held down by many strong pairs of hands. Immobilized... They proceeded to mark her as theirs. It started simple enough with waxing her body bare... using the manhandling as a means to also gauge her body.
She didn't have large breasts... and there were some disappointed grumbles at this. But the boobs she had were just big enough to squeeze and fill their meaty hands like comfortably-sized stress balls. Her stomach and legs were toned enough, a bit more on the pudgy side as her only work out normally consisted of walking or running on trails. But the real delight seemed to have come from her plump, round ass and the way her cunt was such a tight squeeze when a couple fingers jammed themselves inside her.
Then she had a bit gag shoved into her mouth as a man entered with a tackle box. She recognized him as the guy people went to for tattoos and piercings... Which only gave her dread of what the next step was. First order of business, she received a triangle piercing where the ring rested under her clitoral hood... She could feel a small, metal bead resting at the bottom of the ring she now had there...
After her pierced clit came her boobs, receiving barbells that was decorated so it seemed as if a pair of handcuffs wrapped around her nipples with a nice, long chain to be pulled on like a short sex rein. As she whimpered through the gag, she distinctly heard the piercer mention leaving her mouth for last. Last? What came after her tits and cunt? Apparently, it was branding...
Resting over her thick pubic area was the shield logo for the police department, rendered near perfectly in detail. The pain was excruciation at first, tears welling and spilling from the black ink of the outlines. And though not as bad, the coloring of the tattoo was unbearable mostly due to how tender that skin had become from the delicate lines etched in so deeply. She thought that would've been it...
But as the tattoo was wrapped and taped into place, she was turned over. This one hurt just as much, if not worse! It was nothing but deep black, scrawling over her lower back and giving her something she knew was called a "tramp stamp". The only reason she knew what it was had been the conformation of what it was he was to write on her and how...
"Property of The Village's Police Department in fancy script, yeah?"
This was why they threw the book so hard at her... She was to be the fuck toy of the police department and she now noticed too clearly how many of the men were jacking off to her pain. By the time the tattoo artist moved to her face, she was drained. She felt her head shifted, bottom of her chin resting against the table they'd placed her on as the gag was released and her mouth opened wider.
Her tongue was guided out, held into place as two holes were made in a neat and vertical line in the middle. The bottom hole was given a ring which curled around the tip of her tongue with some space to spare. The hole not far above that one was replaced with a barbell, on the bottom was your standard metal ball... but the top felt different. She couldn't pinpoint it exactly, just that it was a funny shape and felt like it stretched across most her tongue...
"There we go. She's all set now. Let me just get you those care instructions then so she can heal up properly for you fine gentlemen."
After that, she was locked up with nothing but her bedding and the open toilet not far from her cot. Every day she was visited by officers who would feed and clean her to ensure there was no risk of infections. At first she struggled, as the pair of men on duty would take it as their chance to grope her though they would claim it was to better check her piercings.
Her actions only earned her a slap to the face before her stunned body was restrained to the floor with her arms behind her back. She also received scolding and missed meals for her behavior as the cops simply went about their jobs in washing her down... At the half way mark of this healing period, something new had been added.
By that point, Helen felt it useless to struggle... So when she was forced to the floor, head on the concrete and her ass pointed in the air, she didn't care when she felt something slipping into her asshole. She did give a cry and tried to move when some sort of liquid was pushed inside her bowels, but by then she was firmly restrained as if they knew what she was going to do.
The object pulled out, but minutes later returned to force more of that liquid inside. It was a repeated process... again... and again. Her stomach felt tight as she whined in discomfort. As she felt the need to expel whatever had been inside her urge her to almost go right then, the object was pulled away as she was pulled up and moved to the toilet.
It was embarrassing... but there was nothing Helen could do but flush her intestines out with two pairs of eyes watching her every move. Perhaps because she looked away, face reddening in shame, but as she finished she was yanked sharply and suddenly back into the position before. Only this time, her ass was pointed towards the toilet as they were eager to continue flushing her body out...