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Lone Stranger
01-30-2011, 3:28 PM
I tried a new story:

Crime & Punishment

By Lone Stranger

The year was 2031 and the legal system was quite different that is had been in the past. People got tired of petty criminals committing crimes and then, when caught, getting probation or sent to some cushy prison where they could lounge around and play video games or watch TV all day for their punishment. People wanted the punishment to mean something. To somewhat fit the crime, but mainly something to get people to change their behavior and something to give the public a sense that something was being done about petty criminals.

So a system was developed similar to what they did in New England long ago with stocks and pillories only more creative. For example is someone was found to be guilty of cheating on his time card at work his punishment might be to be chained to a pole on a street corner in full public view and be charged with the duty of shouting out the correct time every minute all day long. Rain or shine, hot or cold. Every day he was taken inside twice a day to use the restroom and eat or drink and then he was put back on display. Mostly he was just ignored by the passing people, but sometimes passers-by would add to his humiliation and punishment by spitting in his face or women would sometimes slap his face just for the fun of it.

But, that was for minor crimes for more serious crimes the punishment grew harsher and more painful, but public humiliation was always the main theme. For example for sexual assault a man convicted was sentenced to be strung up naked with his legs spread apart in the lobby of a building which housed a secretarial service. The secretaries that worked there always dressed in smart office attire, which usually included heels and hose. These women understood that it was their civic duty to kick the man in the balls every time they walked past. Most of the women considered it a personal challenge to see how hard they could kick him. Especially if they were stressed out or pissed off about something at work they could take out their aggressions on this staked out and helpless creature. Sometimes it required several kicks to vent their frustrations. It was fun to watch his facial expressions as her high-heeled shoe slammed into his exposed balls. None of the women cared or bothered to think about his feelings, except to think things like “BAM! That’ll get his attention. I bet he’ll feel that for a week!”, if she got him a particular good one. Or to think something like, “Take that! That’ll teach you to prey on defenseless women!” Either way they knew it was their duty to make him regret his actions and therefore make a better world for them all to live in.

But that’s not what we are here to talk about today. Today we are here to talk about Mark Weston and his punishment. His was a medium punishment. Not as light as the first example, but not as heavy as the last either. Mark was convicted of sexual harassment. Especially centered around the legs and feet of the women in his office. He was always finding a reason to put his hands on their legs. In the same building which housed the secretarial service there was a lounge where the women could go to relax and have some fun when they weren’t working. It had a snack bar and some tables and a lot of video games scattered around the walls. Mark’s punishment was that he was strapped down on his back in front of one of these video games. His head was mounted face-up in a urethane mold to prevent movement on his part and served as the platform the women would stand on to play the video game. Most of the women were younger, pretty women who were just starting their career, but there were some middle age women sprinkled tin there.

They way it usually worked was the women would walk up his body in their spike heeled shoes and when they got to his chest they would step out of their shoes and onto Mark’s waiting face in their stocking feet. They would stand on his face the whole time as they played the video game.

The way the game worked was kind of like one of those lamps that has no switch, but turns on when you touch the base. The game had a yoke affair that the women held in their hands and used it to control the game characters. The game would activate as soon as the woman grasped the yoke in her hand. Like the lamp, a small electric current traveled through the yoke and into the woman’s hand and down through her body and traveled from her feet into Mark’s face, which was grounded back to the video game by a ground wire attached to the back of Mark’s head. Whenever a woman grasped the yoke and stepped onto Mark’s face with her damp, salty feet she completed the electrical connection and the game would start.

The women’s nylon covered feet fresh out of the high-heeled shoes she had been wearing all day were quite aromatic. And she stood on Mark’s face full weight without any more thought than you would give to the pedestal you were standing on. For indeed that just what Mark’s face was – a pedestal to stand on. You could say that Mark experienced a close encounter with the damp, smelly, nyloned feet of all the women who played the game.

Only they didn’t just stand still. They bounced and wiggled and swayed this way and that as they went through the gyrations of playing the game. As they stood right on his face with both feet he had to breathe as best he could around her feet or by sucking air through her toes, filtered by her damp sweaty nylons of course. Some women would get frustrated by the challenges of the game and stomp on Mark’s face to vent their irritation.

When Mark was placed in his placed in his place in the machine by his handlers at the start of each day he was given an injection into his vocal cords that caused them to shrink and draw tight, which rendered him unable to utter a sound. That way he wouldn’t disturb the game player on his face by crying out if she stomped or twisted her foot on his face in a particularly painful way. As a result most women forgot that they were in fact standing on a man’s face as they concentrated on the game they were playing. And Mark could suffer in silence as his head felt like it was going to explode or implode from the woman dancing or prancing with all her weight of his physiognomy.

And suffer he did as women of all types pranced and gyrated on his face all day, day after, day. Not only did he have to endure the terrible weight of their feet smashing into his face, but their feet always smelled just like feet do after they have been in been in high-heels all day and they rubbed that smell into his face literally all day long. He actually breathed in that smell with every breath he took. But that’s not all. He also had to taste their sweaty feet as well!

If the woman’s feet were too dry they wouldn’t make good enough electrical contact with Mark’s face and the game would play erratically or not at all. That was the basis for the urban myth that developed. The truth is, especially as most women came in after a long day at work, their nyloned feet were more damp and sweaty by far than was required for electrical contact. After all salty dampness makes a hell of an electrolyte! But the myth developed anyway and most women developed the habit of stomping on Mark’s face to get his attention and then telling his to stick out his tongue so they wipe their dirty feet on it to increase the moisture. This was especially true if they were having a bad game. They thought the play would improve if they moistened their feet some more. As a result, in addition to their other charms, Mark got to enjoy the taste of their dirty feet as well.

Some women developed the habit on standing on Mark’s face with one foot while sticking the other foot in Mark’s mouth and just letting it soak while they played the game. Not only did Mark have all her weight concentrated on one foot on the face, but he had to try and breathe around the other sweaty nylon foot stuck in his mouth. This situation was particularly distasteful for Mark! (Pardon the pun.)

There was one woman, Cheryl, who was very beautiful, but rather petite at 5’3” and just over 100 lbs. She tried to make up for what she thought of as shortcoming, her size, by dressing to the nines in short skirts, and strappy sandals with very high heels. Not platforms, in fact very thin elegant soles, but very high heels of 3 1\2” or 4” and fashionable stockings with the tops just visible above her skirt hem. She liked to play the game a lot, but whenever she played she left her shoes on because she wasn’t tall enough otherwise to reach the controls comfortably. Now these shoes sometimes did not make a good electrical connection so she had to have Mark give her soles a good licking to get the soles good and wet. These were the same shoes she wore out in the street everyday so Mark got to taste whatever she walked in out on the street that day. By the time he got done scrubbing her soles with his tongue they were quite clean. Then she stood on his face in her thin, pointy, high-heels while she danced about on his face playing the game. She wasn’t as heavy as some of the other women, but in those heels she could really tear up Mark’s face. He would scream out if he could. Especially when she stood back on her heels, digging them in his cheeks or when she stepped in his mouth with her heel and stood on the inside of his mouth, with her heel digging in to whatever it found in there.

The game Mark was attached to was a fairly popular one and there was usually a queue of women waiting to play the game. So this way just about the time he got all the smell and taste out of one set of feet. She would step down and a new pair of feet fresh out of her high-heels would take her place. Sometimes the women waiting to play the game would stand behind the game player in her spike-heeled shoes on Mark’s body to wait for her to finish. This would usually be very painful for Mark, as the woman’s heels would dig deeply into his body as she patiently waited for her turn. Sometimes he had two or three women standing on him at once.

Unfortunately some women, tired of waiting for her turn and wanting to speed things up, would step directly on Mark’s exposed balls in the hopes that his painful jerking reaction would disrupt the player and cause her to loose and therefore quit the game. Some of the more bold ones would kick him real hard in the balls trying for the same reaction. This usually didn’t work and all that would happen was besides getting and excruciating pain in his balls, Mark would also get a good face stomping for not holding still.

Mark’s nose was broken the first time the second day he was placed in the game. Some woman stood directly on it with the heel of her foot and put all her weight on that heel as she bounced and gyrated about playing the game. Mark could hear cartilage snapping and breaking every time she shifted her weight. And the pain was almost enough to cause him to pass out, but instead he just suffered in silence. By the time she finished and stepped down his nose was a real mess. He had to be taken from the machine and cleaned up before he could be used again. It was broken again three days later when an excitable woman won the game and became so excited she began jumping up and down on Mark’s face repeatedly, she was so excited about winning. She jumped all over his face with abandon and numerous times her feet slammed into his nose. Again Mark could hear and feel the cartilage crunching as it broke and splintered and the women kept jumping on it with all her weight. Once again, Mark had to be taken from the machine and cleaned up before he could resume his place.

In addition to the refreshments, food, and games sometimes the ladies lounge was used for special events or shows. A fashion show or cooking demonstrations are good examples. This particular day a demonstration on how to apply makeup was scheduled. Corrine, a tall, pretty, brunette with a short skirt, high-heels and coffee colored pantyhose arrived a little late. She worked her way around the room looking for an empty seat, which appeared to be all taken. She finally arrived in front of Mark saying, but not really talking to him, “It appears that all the seats and taken so I’ll just have to sit here.” Then turned around lifted her skirt and sat full on Mark’s face. She didn’t consider or even think about what that would be like for Mark. She wasn’t wearing any panties with her pantyhose so the only thing separating Mark’s face from her ass was the sheer material of her pantyhose. Mark was forced to breathe through the crack of her ass with the air filtered through the gusset portion of her pantyhose. His mouth was pressed right up against her asshole and his nose was pressed tight to the material covering the crack of her ass. Right away he could smell the sweat that had accumulated in her ass crack all day and her rather distinctive ass smell. She could feel the wind as he struggled to breathe her asshole and it felt good blowing up through her ass crack. She propped her feet up with her heels digging into Mark’s crotch and just sat back and enjoyed herself.

Mark, on the other hand, was doing any thing but. His balls hurt something fearsome as she banged her heels into them and then just let them keep digging into his crotch as she sat full weight on Mark’s face without a care in the world, Mark had to struggle for every breath and every breath was strong with the smell of the ass crack and ass. And she sat like that for a full hour as the demonstration progressed. Whenever his lips grew dry he would instinctively try and wet them with his tongue, but all that would do is allow him to taste Corrine’s ass as well as smell it. Every time his licked his lips he licked her ass hole as well, as it was pressed tight to his lips. Corrine felt this also and enjoyed the sensation and would wriggle about on his face to show her enjoyment. Finally after the hour was up the demonstration subsided and Corrine got up from Mark’s face.

Unfortunately she stood up right on his crotch with her high-heeled shoes. Mark finally got a breath of air that wasn’t tainted with the smell and taste of Corrine’s ass and he had to experience it while his balls were exploding in pain. Corrine thought as long as she was here she might as well play a game before she goes, so she walked up on Mark’s chest and stepped out of her shoes and on to his face with her smelly stocking feet. Mark could still smell and taste her ass when suddenly he got to smell and taste her dirty feet as well. When she was done she stepped back into her shoes turned and walked away without a thought in the world to Mark. And, as the next pair of smelly stocking feet stepped up onto his face, he didn’t have much time to think about it either.

This is how it was day after day for Mark. His face was actually getting flatter from so many women standing on it every day and it would be years before he got the taste of dirty stocking feet out of his mouth. One thing was for sure; he was never going to commit sexual harassment again! He really didn’t think he could take much more, but at one month into a six-month sentence he had a long way to go.

stegoman
01-31-2011, 6:15 AM
That was AWESOME! Thanks for writing it!

I only wish we could amend the laws today to create that type of situation...

grizley
01-31-2011, 11:59 AM
Nice story, is there a continuation?

Lone Stranger
01-31-2011, 3:24 PM
This is the kind of story that lends itself to continuation. If I get inspired, who knows.

Later~

Sauur
01-31-2011, 9:52 PM
Lone Stranger that was AWESOME! That was fantastic.

As far as a continuation I would love to see the capital offenses... ooh yeah. Though honestly you write so well that anything form light to heavy punishments are going to be great.

door_step
02-02-2011, 7:29 AM
Awesome story indeed!

A great THANKS :worship:

Doorstep

zenonvip78
02-02-2011, 12:37 PM
This is simply fantastic! Many thx Lone Stranger!

mrgoodshoes
02-02-2011, 2:39 PM
Excellent work Lone Stranger. I hope you will write more.

kalkar
02-05-2011, 9:48 AM
this is the best story for al long long time ... please continue..

Lone Stranger
02-05-2011, 11:09 AM
I heading down to Key West on motorcycle for a week of some much needed R&R. When I get back I'll start writing another chapter.

Later~

mrgoodshoes
02-05-2011, 2:00 PM
Enjoy your R&R Lone Stranger - Definitely looking forward to a new chapter.

Giblet
03-07-2011, 5:06 PM
How in the world did this one slip me by?

A thoroughly enjoying read.

Lone Stranger
03-08-2011, 5:42 PM
Well, I finally finished my R&R and got back to work. Here is another Chapter to my story:


CHAPTER TWO

Then there was Wendell Peckash. His crime was not too serious, but somewhat degrading and insulting as he cussed out a woman at the scene of a traffic accident. He didn’t just cuss her out, but he totally lost his cool and berated her like a drill sergeant. He had her crying, but he still didn’t quit trying to humiliate her. He used foul language that would shock a sailor. He was charged with public display of profanity and hate speech.

Unfortunately for Wendell, an enterprising young reporter caught the whole thing on tape. When viewed in court, the judge said she never heard such an outpouring of filth from someone’s mouth before. She said that if he liked such filth in his mouth she would arrange it so he could have all the filth in his mouth he wanted, and sentenced him to six months as a human washing machine!

He was placed on his knees in the lounge of the ladies room where ten lady lawyers, paralegals and legal secretaries worked. He was chained down in that position with his head chained back so he was always looking up. His vocal cords were disabled so he couldn’t talk and an electrode with a button inserted into his jaw muscles so that if a person were to push the button his mouth would pop open, and then when released normal function would resume.


The women that used the rest room were encouraged to use his mouth as a washing machine to launder their dirty panties and stockings or pantyhose. They understood it was their civic duty to make sure he regretted his crimes. They would enter the lounge and remove their dirty panties and press the button on his neck and when his mouth popped open they would place their dirty undergarments in his mouth to lick and suck on till they were clean. Wendell would scrub them with his tongue and suck on them till they were clean.

His arms were chained up so that he had limited movement. Beside of Wendell was a flash dryer. It worked not so much by heat, but by blowing very dry air on things and quickly drying them. When Wendell had sucked and scrubbed a pair of panties or stockings until they were clean, he would remove them from his mouth and put them in the dryer. When dry, he could remove them from the dryer and bag them up for their owner’s to retrieve them. If, when inspected, any trace of sweat or stains were left in the garments the ladies would deliver a quick kick with their high-heeled shoes to his exposed balls to encourage him to do a better job. As a result Wendell learned very quickly that it was much less painful to endure the taste of the dirty under garments and get them completely clean than to endure the exploding pain of a good shot to the exposed genitals. Unfortunately some women would give him a good shot anyway, just for the hell of it. But most women would leave his balls alone if he did a good job because they really did want their garments clean and they wanted Wendell to have good motivation to do just that. So he learned to suck, lick and scrub them till there was no taste left.

And that was no easy chore. People think of women as meticulous and clean because they appear so neat and well dressed, but anyone who has cleaned ladies toilets can tell you they are anything but. And these women were no exception. For the most part their panties were filthy. They were stained with sweat, pussy juice and cum, urine, and frequently had skid marks where their panties finished the job of wiping they were in too much of a hurry to do. To avoid the traffic jams and over crowding that ten ladies can generate most women wore their panties and stockings for two days before they came to Wendell to launder them. By that time they reeked of feminine secretions and were heavily stained. The women usually would bring a bag with their name on it containing fresh panties and they would walk up to Wendell and strip off the dirty pair and pressing the button on the side of his neck would deposit the warm panties right into Wendell’s gaping mouth. They would place the dirtiest gusset part right on his tongue so he could better clean them. The taste would assault his senses like a sledgehammer. As he looked into the face of these beautiful women it was hard to imagine that they could taste as bad as they do.

They would do the same the same with their dirty stockings, but usually on alternating days so they could deposit their dirty panties in his mouth and then leave and not have to wait for him to clean them before they fed him their dirty stockings. Most of the women took delight in looking into Wendell’s eyes so they could see the reaction when the full flavor of their garments registered on his palette. The panties were slower to develop. Though the taste was immediate, it took a little while for all the flavors to develop on his palate and for him to appreciate them fully. The stockings were more immediate and one base flavor, one minute there was nothing, and suddenly his mouth was full of foot sweat and lots of it.

From Wendell’s point of view it really didn’t matter they all tasted bad whether a mouth full of foot sweat or the mirad of flavors contained in the panties. But, I guess if he really had to choose, at least with the mouth full of foot sweat, though very strong, at least he knew what he was tasting. With the panties he never knew for sure what he would find to taste in a girl’s panties! Of course there were the pantyhose, where he could enjoy both flavors. And then there were the thongs. About half of the girls wore them and there was nothing like sucking on the damp cloth that spent the last two days in a girl’s ass!

And then there was Shelly Ann. Besides using Wendell’s mouth as a washing machine, she had a bad habit of ignoring the early warning signs of having to go pee. As a consequence she was always rushing off to the bathroom having to pee real bad, which was why she frequently leaked a little pee into her panties every day. One day she rushed off to the restroom in a desperate way only to find that both stalls were already occupied. She went back out into the foyer, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it till one of the stalls came free. She thought about going in the sink, but that would be gross. What is one of the girls wanted to wash her face in the sink. But she had to do something, and then she spied Wendell, on his knees with his mouth straight up. Of course! He would do perfectly! There was no one around so Sally pressed the button to open his mouth and snatched out the stockings he was chewing on and, still holding the button, straddled his head and began to piss directly into his gaping mouth!

At first Wendell thought, “Oh, God, what a horrible taste!” as the acrid piss began flooding into his mouth. But soon he was just trying to survive as he gulped and drank as fast as he could, trying to keep up with Sally’s flow. Sally had to go real bad and she let it go as hard and fast as she could. Sally never even considered that she was pissing into some human being’s mouth all she knew was she had to go and this washing machine was handy. She pissed a long time into Wendell’s mouth and when the flow finally dribbled to a halt she just wiped herself on his mustache and pranced off without giving Wendell any notice at all as she thought to herself, “That was neat! If I ever have to go again and the toilets are occupied, I have somewhere to go.”

Besides the taste of Sally’s urine, Wendell spent all day, day after day, month after month, with the constant taste of girl’s pussy juice, cum, urine, skid marks, sweat and feet in his mouth. Sprinkled every so often with the fiery pain of having his balls kicked hard with a pair of pointy high-heeled shoes. If he ever got released, he didn’t think he would ever taste anything again without that taste coming through.