Punishment Code Tales Ch 04

This is one of an anthology of short stories that take place in my world of Judicial Punishments. I aim to explore a variety of stories and characters whose lives are directly impacted by the new justice system and even those who only brush up against new codes. Each chapter is unrelated to the last so don't worry if you jump in in the middle and if one is not to your taste then the next one might be. Please feel free to comment and to private message me. I love speaking with readers and I value all of your input. I hope you enjoy.

This is also an adaptation of a roleplay that I did a few weeks ago. While my RP partner didn't want to be called out by name in this little intro, he was still integral in making the story and editing it with me. Most of the technician's dialog and many of the descriptions of the technician are word for word from him. Thank you so much for your help!

***

Danielle had that jittery, over-caffeinated tingling since yesterday evening when the Punishment Center's confirmed she was on today's list. She knew the feeling well. Sometimes excitement, like a roller coasters, but today the anxiety of an oncoming obligation that she really wished she could have avoided, like a visit to the gynecologist. In the next hour or so there would be a knock on her door and she'd be naked and exposed in front of a stranger to pay her debt to society.

She had already warned her supervisor that someday this week, she would have to take a day off so the email was embarrassing to write but at least it wasn't a surprise. Her husband, Mark, had tried to comfort her but there was no way she was going to get a good night's sleep. It was fitful, alternating between cuddling as tight as she could to Mark as he snored and stress dreams that made her startle and return to staring out the apartment window at the flickering light at the building across the parking lot. It was miserable.

She only had herself to blame but it seemed like such a little thing. She forgot to renew her car registration and less than a week later she'd gotten the Summons in the mail. If they knew so quickly that she needed to renew, why didn't they just send her the letter a week before and she could have sent her paperwork in.

"Stupid bureaucracy,"

she'd fumed.

"Fucking unfair,"

Mark had called it.

"Nothing you can do,"

the group wisdom of Reddit had told them. It was cut and dry. There was a date, she missed it, and the car was in her name from before the wedding so it was just her on the hook. It's not like she wanted Mark to get punished but at least it would have been more equitable.

The morning of, she gave up on sleep about an hour before she usually woke. Danielle made coffee and tried to stay busy. Her anxiety wouldn't allow her to sit still so she cleaned the house instead. When Mark was up, he tried his best again: telling her to relax and it didn't matter how clean the house was but she ignored him. She saw the irony in cleaning the house for the unwanted guest but it didn't stop her. She made Mark his lunch and sent him off to work and kept working. And she did a lot: two loads of laundry, a bunch of vacuuming to stress out her cats, both boxes got new litter, she took out the recycling (a real feat since this stupid apartment complex put the boxes so far away), and the open layout kitchen, living room, and dining room were free of clutter.

Sweaty from chores and with only an hour before the appointment, she took a shower and tried not to look too closely in the mirror at what the man--and she knew in her heart that it would be a man, she couldn't be that lucky--would be seeing soon enough. It's not like she was a prude. More than a few people had seen her naked. She loved strip poker and streaking but it didn't help that in her mind's eye she still looked like she was in college but that was a decade or more ago now. At 32, she didn't love her belly or cellulite on her thighs or how heavy her boobs were now and the idea that that some random guy was going to get to see all that just made her skin crawl.

By the time she was out of her shower, she had 40 minutes until the technician was supposed to arrive. Danielle wasn't sure if she preferred it to be 10 minutes or 10 days but 40 minutes wasn't good. Still too much time to think about it and for the jitters to increase. She tried to fight down the anxiety as she got dressed but having to pick out what to wear was at cross purposes. On one hand, it didn't matter. They were all going to end up on the floor soon enough, anyway, but on the other hand she'd just cleaned the whole house, too embarrassed to let the man see a dirty living room. Nope, she was definitely going to wear clothes she could be seen outside in. The first pair of panties from the top of her clean pile, a red bra with a wide band which gave the most comfortable support for her breasts, then black shorts and a beige linen blouse of repeating patterns of blue lines and orangey-tan pineapples. She wasn't sure how much better she could do.

Thirty five minutes to go, and she stood in her bathroom brushing her hair. She had a round face with always red cheeks and a short haircut ending around her chin with an undercut around her right ear. The undercut was a present to herself about four years ago after grad school to make herself feel young. She probably should have touched it up, the undercut was getting a little too long to feel cool with it. It was approaching unkempt. The last thought made her roll her eyes even at herself. Why was she like this? She would have to talk about that with her therapist after this was over.

Half an hour to go. She might as well eat something. She put on her pink slippers before stepping onto the linoleum floored kitchen and opened the fridge. It was full but there was nothing she really wanted to eat. Her eyes went over the groceries and she debated if she had time for grilled cheese.

No way.

It had to be cold then. She opened her vegetable drawer and grabbed the baby carrots and radishes. A handful of each went in one bowl and ranch went in a ramekin and she sat at her dining room table, a heavy black table that had made an odyssey from one friend's grandma's house back in college through two apartments in college and finally to Danielle and Mark's apartment more than ten years on.

Danielle ate slowly, crunching on the crudites. "Carrots are just a way to get sauce in your mouth," she remembered Mark saying. He wasn't wrong. Her eyes surveyed the room trying to find anything else she needed to clean before the knock on the door came. There wasn't much. Her teapot could get put next to the kettle and that was about it but that didn't stop her from looking for more to do as she ate. All she could really do was wait. The food wasn't helping much, if anything it just added a turning stomach to her adrenaline fueled jitters.

Danielle swallowed the last carrot and checked her phone for the time. Damn, she'd missed a call from Mark with her phone on silent. He was probably just checking on her but he was cutting it close with just five minutes now. She hit redial and held her phone to her ear.

"Hey, princess," he answered, knowing it was her.

She sighed and smiled, "Five minutes, can't talk long."

"I was just checking on you," her husband said.

"I know. I'm fine, I guess," Danielle responded, looking around the immaculate room, "I cleaned everything."

Mark chuckled, "That's good. There's an upside. A man likes a clean house."

"I guess," Danielle repeated with a sigh, rolling her eyes.

Knowing that sigh after a decade long relationship, Mark stopped trying to distract her with unfunny jokes. "Hey, you're going to be fine. It will be over in like... an hour. Maybe less. It will go quick, I bet."

Mark spoke confidently but it didn't rub off on Danielle. It was easy for him to say that but it wasn't his clothes about to be on the floor and it was different for women anyway. She was sure he wouldn't like having his penis out in front of a stranger but she knew he wouldn't feel nearly as vulnerable as she would during her sentence. It was just the reality of life as a woman. Her body was a different category and it was unfair.

Still, she wasn't about to have that conversation on the phone right now. That was something for a thinkpiece later or a late night conversation. "Yeah, I hope..." Danielle started and then froze on the phone. She thought she'd heard someone on the creaky stairs of their apartment building.

"What is it?" Mark said.

"I thought I heard..." Danielle answered, whispering as her adrenaline shot up.

"Relax," Mark said, "No way they're running on time. It's the government." He tried to practice what he preached and speak breezily but it didn't help his wife's nerves.

Danielle stayed silent for a few more seconds and thought she heard it getting closer. "That's him. I have to go. Love you."

"Love you too. You'll be o..." Mark said, as Danielle hit the call end button and looked at the door.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

She jumped even though she knew he was there. What else was he going to do? Just stand there without knocking? She jumped up from her dining table and grabbed the ramekin of ranch and empty bowl and reached over the counter to put them in the sink on the way to the door. Her eyes went over the microwave clock. Not only was he on time; he was two minute early.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Coming!" she said, not quite as loud as she'd intended. She looked down and pulled down on her shirt and shorts, now wishing she'd picked jeans or like a longer skirt. Was canvas shorts half way down her thigh formal enough? Why did that matter? Her mind was racing as she reached for the door and tried to open it without undoing the deadbolt. She fumbled, feeling her face growing even redder than usual, as she got it open and looked up at the man.

Behind her, the cats fled from under the living room chair to the bedroom where she knew they would hideout until the stranger was gone. He was taller than she expected. Mark was over six feet and this man was even taller with a close cut salt and pepper beard and buzzed hair. He was older than her, maybe forty at most but she might guess thirty-eight to be polite, and definitely in shape around his chest though it was really his waistline that gave away his age.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Clark," the technician said in a deep voice, "I'm Alex Barnes and I've been assigned your punishment session today."

"Hi, come in, please," Danielle answered, suddenly embarrassed of the neighbors even though she didn't even know their names. She stepped aside and let the door close on it's own as he walked inside.

"Thank you," Mr. Barnes said, as he turned back toward her, "Where can we sit and chat for a few minutes?"

"Um," she started, finding it harder than she expected to look him in the eyes. If he wasn't so tall maybe it would be more natural. "The living room is fine," she continued as she walked just the couple feet to the living room. There was a cushioned, green armchair with a matching ottoman and a long brown couch, covered in a blue blanket to protect it from the cats. In front of the couch there was a soft coffee table that doubled as a foot stool and storage and in the corner a TV on a pink and blue rug that gave the beige carpet at least a little bit of color. The 4

th

side of the room was a sliding glass door out to their third floor balcony. She had closed the blinds well before he arrived, though the green leaves of a sizable tree would probably have given her privacy even if they were open and she had the benefits of being on the third floor.

Danielle sat down on the armchair and fiddled with her hands, leaving her feet on the floor and the ottoman unused. Annoyingly, she decided, Mr. Barnes stayed standing and opened a folder, the only thing he brought with him into the apartment. It was a manila folder with an official looking blue seal over the edge that he now broke. "I'll need to match the summons," he said.

Danielle pointed down next to him toward the combination coffee table and foot stool. Her mailed summons was folded up next to him and he bent down slightly to pick it up and started flipping through the forms as her stomach turned. She waited uncomfortably before he finally spoke, "Ms. Clark, you were cited by an automated system for failure to renew valid vehicular registration. The automatic citation issued a punishment of an in-home judicial search and thirty minute display session. I'll be happy to answer any questions but if you are willing to waive any appeal or contest of the charges and punishment, I'll have you sign the bottom line and date it."

Danielle gritted her teeth as she listened, even though she'd already read it a dozen times or more. Every time she thought about how this punishment came about, it just made her angry. She still wanted to hide that frustration, though. It wasn't going to do her any favors to antagonize the technician in charge of her punishment. She nodded and leaned forward to take the summons and a pen from him. On the soft surface of her thigh, she signed her first initial and last name in unpracticed cursive and dated it before handing the stapled papers back to him.

"Thank you," the technician repeated. His tone was very matter-of-fact and calm, trying to reassure her, "Before we start do you have any questions?"

She shook her head, stiffly, "No, I think I understand."

"Ok, then let's begin," he said.

Wow that was fast

, she thought as her heart sped up. Maybe she should have had more questions. She'd imagined there would be a little more fanfare but she guessed it didn't matter. Now she just had to go with it.

He continued as her face grew red, "I will ask you to stand please, facing me, and undress completely. Fold the clothing and place it on the ottoman in front of you. Your jewelry can remain on if it's only that wedding ring."

Danielle found herself biting her lower lip as he spoke but she was silent as she stood up. She knew she had to just do it and get it over with.

Was this any different than, like, strip poker? Yeah, yeah it was

, she realized as she stepped out of her slippers. Was she supposed to put them on the ottoman too? She decided yes and bent down and put them on the ottoman first before starting to unbutton her pineapple-themed blouse.

She felt like she could just crawl under her bed and hide forever as her blouse opened and the man could see her red lacy bra even before she got her top off and folded it putting in next to her slippers. It didn't take much debate to go to her shorts next. She looked down and her hands worked together to open the button and lower the zipper. They were high-waisted and as they opened her stomach, which she hated, popped out. She could have sworn it even jiggled as her hands slid to the sides to push her shorts down to reveal her silky, burnt orange underwear covering her privates and then her thighs, whose cellulite made her just as insecure as her belly. Finally she stepped out of her shorts and bent down to get them, very aware that if the man looked past her shoulders, down her back, he could see her crack that got revealed as the back of her panties got pushed down as her shorts came off.

Glowing red, she folded the shorts and put them next to her shorts. Bra next. God, this sucked. She reached behind her and it took her longer than she wished. It was very wide banded, with nine eyes and hooks instead of the usual three. As she finally got them open and got it off, the reason she liked the extra support was obvious. Her tits were huge, falling down and apart now that she was topless as her large areola getting harder and wrinkling slighty as they tightened in the colder air. She folded her 30GG and laid it on top of her shorts, almost completely covering them.

Now there was just one last thing and she just did it. Trying not to think about it, Danielle slid her orange underwear down, feeling the air on her round butt and feeling eyes on her pussy. Her labia were neat and stayed naturally sealed, hiding her clit and inner lips. She had a wide landing strip of dark hair and was basically shaved elsewhere. With only three days since she'd last shaved in the bath, Danielle wasn't perfectly smooth but there wasn't enough hair to give her any modesty between her legs. She bent down and grabbed her panties, folding them, and putting them on top of her blouse where they stood out against the mostly beige top. She was bright red and adrenaline was pumping but she had done it. She stood straight in front of him and covered her pussy with both palms, framing her boobs with her arms, as she waited for further directions.

Mr. Barnes didn't comment on her body, remaining professional, but that maybe made it worse. Mark would be calling her hot and whistling but the technician's silence made her anxiety-ridden brain think he was judging her for being fat and saggy and imperfect even if, in a better state, she knew she was curvy, womanly, and she made Mark happy but her brain wasn't going to let that be front of mind as this stranger stood just a couple feet away.

Instead of leering, the man just continued like this was nothing, and maybe it was for him. "The first part of your punishment will be a judicial search along the lines of intake into a punishment facility." As Danielle nodded along, he gave his first direction, "Lean forward toward me. Bending at the waist, I want you to run your hands through your hair, back to front, to shake it out."

Danielle frowned. That meant she couldn't cover herself and, even worse, her tits were going to hang down in front her her. She leaned forward, feeling the weight of her tits hang down, uncomfortably, wobbling in the air. Something guys never understood is that they could hurt if they sat wrong. Bras do actually have a purpose other than modesty after all. She grimaced as she looked down at the floor and started to run her hands through her hair, thinking how she needed her undercut touched up. She was embarrassed it didn't look good right now and felt silly doing this. Mr. Barnes knew perfectly well she wasn't hiding anything in her hair.

The technician watched for a few moment before giving the next instruction, "Stand upright again, mouth open, say ahh and stick your tongue out."

The woman stood back up, fighting the urge to cover, knowing the display session was ahead of her anyway. She looked up, feeling small, at least half a foot shorter than the man, and opened her mouth, "Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh."

The man looked down her throat for an embarrassingly long time and she blushed at the realization she didn't have time to brush her teeth after the crudites. Her mind raced imagining her breath smelling bad from the ranch. She wanted to crawl even deeper under her bed as he kept looking for something both of them knew wasn't there.

"Lift your tongue to the roof of your mouth," he continued, in his calm voice.

She complied, tense as he leaned over her. Then she realized that he was also looking up her nostrils and she flared them out. Anything to get this done with quicker. This was way worse than she thought and he was only on her head. She wasn't dumb. There were more shameful places she could be hiding something. Was he going to touch her like that? Her anxiety kept finding new ceiling to burst through.

"Thank you," he finally said, stepping back and continuing quickly. His eyes went down her front, making her stomach turn, before he continued, "Raise your arms up, please. You may raise them straight up or put your hands on your head."

Nausea rose as she laced her fingers on top of her head, elbows out. Then an even bigger shock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Her eyes shot open. Oh no someone was at the door. What happened now? Her head turned toward the door.