The imposing white marble portico of the Ministry of Justice building loomed over Josephine as the officers led her naked, leashed and hobbled once again, up from the People's Square to the array of a dozen smoked glass entrance doors sheltered under it. The towering columns made her feel small and insignificant while the great sweep of steps before them which stretched across the entire width of the frontage made her feel helpless and dreadfully exposed.

Josephine stumbled as she negotiated the steps with her cuffed hands and hobbled feet, but her guards only gave her choke leash another jerk as a warning her to keep up. As she started up the steps, she kept her head bowed, trying not to think of all the surreptitious eyes that were following her progress. Once again Officers 43 and 57 seemed to be intent on showing off her naked body to as many people as possible, which was of course quite deliberate. Before she had even been brought to trial, she was a stern warning to the general public of the dangers of dissent and criminality. Even as people looked away from her, she knew they had seen her freshly tanned buttocks and perhaps even the slippery sheen about her red lipped labia. Do they know what they had done to her? Did they have any sympathy for her suffering, or did they look at her with contempt, believing that her exposure and humiliation was only fit and proper.

Oh no, was she dripping spent juices and sperm from her pussy onto the steps of the justice building? Was that another crime? But she couldn't help it. Officers 43 and 57 had not cleaned her up after they used her. She didn't mean to make a mess. She was innocent... innocent...

Inside the huge cool lofty atrium, the officers led her across a black-and-white chequerboard of marble slab flooring to one in in a bewildering arc of desks and heavy silver studded doorways. This particular desk had a sign above it reading simply: DETENTION.

'Josephine K. identity number J85742526037K for immediate trial,' Officer 57 told the man behind the desk, while Officer 43 handed over the bags containing her clothes and possessions.

The receptionist looked Josephine over, matched her face with her ID card and then checked off her name and identity against a list on his screen.

'I'll just print out her court tag...' he said.

A printer hummed and spat out a paper form and a strip of printed plastic. The man folded the strip in half and handed it and what looked like a paper fastener with a very slender shaft to Officer 57. He took hold of Josephine's right earlobe and folded the end of the tag about it. Then he pushed the fastener through the sandwich of plastic and flesh and her empty piercing and opened it up on the other side. Now the numbered strip dangled from her ear like a cattle tag.

As the officers took the leash off Josephine and freed her legs from the hobble, the receptionist pressed a button on his countertop. A moment later, a guard emerged from the door beside the desk.

He looked immaculate in his black uniform, with its peaked cap, silver buttons, badges and epaulettes. Hung from his belt was an electric cattle prod, while in his hands was an odd device. It was a tubular rod almost a metre long with a heavy moulded plastic handle at one end and a dildo and a large rubber-sheathed hook at the other. A spring cord also dangled from the handle with a snap hook on its end.

'Josephine K to Court 19,' the receptionist said, handing the man the printout.

Without a word he bent Josephine over and rammed the dildo up her rectum. As she whimpered at this fresh intrusion into her still sore bottom, he squeezed a trigger on the handle. The big hook which was slung beneath the dildo curled up into her vagina and pulled backwards, locking the restraining device into her groin. He stretched the sprung cord out across the top of the rod and hooked it about the chain of her handcuffs. The tension pulled her back onto the dildo, impaling her even more deeply while locking her firmly in its mechanical grasp. While he held its handle down to his side, keeping the shaft horizontal, she had to remain humiliatingly doubled over presenting her sore buttocks to him. He gave a button on the handle of the device a press with his thumb and she flinched as she felt a warning stab of pain in her rectum. The dildo was electrified.

'You will go where I point you, Josephine K,' the man growled. 'Any trouble and...' he gave the button another press and sent a fresh jolt through her bottom. 'Understand?'

Josephine whimpered and nodded her head.

The guard turned to the officers. 'Right, I'll take charge of her from here...'

He steered her towards the door he had come through with her bent over and stumbling awkwardly along in front of him while her sore breasts bobbed and swayed beneath her. The last glance she had of officers 57 and 43 was them striding away again across the great chequerboard floor of the entrance hall. Apparently, they had already put her out of their minds, but the shameful ache of what that had done to her, both inside and out, would linger in her thoughts far longer...

* * *

Beyond the heavy door was a maze of corridors which her guard steered her along briskly, jabbing the restraining handle into her bottom to keep her moving. Her bare feet slapped on the hard, cold flooring. At one point they took a large winding stairway downwards. Josephine was frightened she would fall forward onto her face as they descended, and she was only kept in balance by the terrible hook in her pussy and the plug in her rectum. At the bottom they proceeded along more corridors until they came to a windowless hall and another desk.

Beside it was a long wall with a row of brackets and latches at waist level running along it. The restraining handles of half a dozen other naked women restrained identically to Josephine were slotted into them, so that they remained bent over and jutting out from the wall, with their bare breasts dangling, their pussies hooked, and their bottoms impaled.

Her guard handed over her papers at the desk and they were checked. The receptionist said, 'We don't have a cell ready. She'll have to wait with the others...'

The guard took her across to the wall and the handle of her restraining rod was slotted into a bracket next to the others. Then she was left there.

After a minute or two Josephine glanced quickly sideways along the line of waiting women, but they were all keeping their gaze fixed firmly at the ground beneath them, or else had their eyes tightly closed. Dead and disbelieving expressions hung on their faces beneath their transparent gag masks. She noted the stripes across their breasts and thighs. Their arresting officers had been no kinder than hers. But despite their common suffering it seemed none of them had any interest in her. Perhaps they were too ashamed. So she stared at the floor as well.

What had they done to get themselves brought here? Well of course if they were guilty of crimes against the state then they deserved their fate and she should not offer them any of her sympathy. Perhaps she was the only innocent one here, only sharing these humiliating conditions with criminals because there had been a terrible mistake. Somebody would realize that soon enough. She just had to be patient...

Then despite her confusion and misery, a question rose in mind. Why were there no male prisoners on the wall? Did they not confine them like this, or perhaps they had their own waiting area? She recalled seeing a few naked prisoners escorted by arresting officers in the city before, but she had largely blanked them out of her mind. Such displays of social disorder were not pleasant to contemplate and well-brought up people simply didn't talk about them, and certainly never imagined that such a thing could possibly happen to them. But now she came to think of it most of them, maybe all of them, had been women. Perhaps they did handle male prisoners differently. Or possibly they knew that naked women would attract more attention, and so they paraded them in public deliberately.

It was then that she realized she had no idea how the court system actually worked. As a good citizen she trusted the state handled matters of justice efficiently and fairly, but she had never been inside a court before. They were simply places of unpleasant necessity, where the state confronted those who rejected the rule of law. Until today the justice building had simply been a magnificent landmark of the city representing its ideals. Now it was becoming something far more personal...

As she waited Josephine gradually realized that she had to relieve herself. The terrible tension she had been under had bottled it up but now she had to go. If she did not, she would wet herself and that would be one more humiliation she could do without. She began squirming about, clenching her thighs together and making whimpering noises and lifting her head up plaintively towards the desk clerk.

At last he seemed to notice her and came over. 'Do you need the toilet?' he asked.

She nodded wretchedly.

He reached over and pressed the thumb button on the handle of her restraining rods, giving her rectum a warning shock. 'You won't give me any trouble, will you?'

She shook her head.

He unhitched her handle from the wall rack and steered her down the corridor into a rest room. There were a row of basins and mirrors opposite a wall of stalls and he steered her into one of these.

For some reason, the toilet bowl inside was set well out from the wall and was raised on a narrow pedestal with a step before it. On the wall behind it was a bracket supporting a little shelf with a raised front rim with a rubber lined scallop cut out of it. A hinged bar hung from one side of it. He flipped up the seat and had her shuffle forward, still bent over, with her legs wide until her groin was over the bowl and her head was over the little shelf. Then he pushed her head down so that her neck rested in the scallop and pulled the bar across the back of her neck, locking her in place. Now she understood why the toilet was raised on its plinth. It was designed for restrained prisoners to use.

Only then did he free her pussy hook and pull the rod from her behind. Then he slapped her bottom. 'Now do your business,' he told her.

Gritting her teeth, horribly aware that he was watching every detail, Josephine emptied her water into the pan beneath her. When she was done, he pressed the wall pad and the cleaning jets spurted up into her wet pussy mouth, washing it clean and also removing the dregs of sperm the officers left inside her. It was followed by the refreshing blast of warm drying air. Josephine almost sighed with pleasure. At least that part of her felt a little cleaner now.

Then she felt the desk clerk's hands on her hips, stroking her bottom and then rubbing his fingers through the furrow of her clean dry sex mouth. As she squealed and wriggled her hips, she felt the head of his penis rubbing up and down through her cleft. He was standing on the toilet step leaning over her and pushing his cock up inside her. Then it parted her lips and shafted it way up into her aching vagina. The power of his thrust rammed her shoulders against the padded collar rim that enclosed her neck. She bucked and twisted as he penetrated her, but she was totally helpless. The toilet and pedestal were keeping her legs spread and the shelf was holding her head down.

How could he take advantage of her like this? It was so unfair and cruel and undignified...

And then she remembered what the officers had told her. She was an accused and she had no rights anymore, so anybody could do what they wanted with her.

Despairingly she sagged over the toilet pan and let him have his pleasure with her, trying not to think about his slippery shaft grinding into her pussy. At least he was not as violent as the policeman had been. And he was not in so much of a hurry. She began to feel herself responding to him. Her pussy was getting wetter and her nipples swelling into hardness. What was wrong with her? Was it that she had never experienced restrained sex before? Of course not, because bondage was sick and dirty. Perhaps that was what made her respond this way. Yes, that must be it. Of course, none of this was normal and she was so confused she couldn't help herself. It felt good, in a very twisted a perverse way...

Oh, please let him get it over with quickly!

With a grunt he came, and she felt the hot surge of yet another man's sperm within her vagina. And five minutes ago, she had felt so much cleaner. What an odd thought to think. In fact, why wasn't she was not being driven mad by what had happened to her? She had just been ra... no... she had been coupled with (that sounded better) three times by strange men! Was it because it was being done by public officials? Since she was small, she had been taught that anything official was right, even when it didn't seem so.

He pulled out of her vulva and wiped his cock head on her thick bush before tucking it away. Was he going out of his way to degrade her? However, to her relief he then pressed the button for the toilet cleaning cycle and her pussy was flushed out and dried for a second time. Then he re-plugged and hooked the restraining bar and took her back to the waiting area.

As she stood bent over staring at the floor, she wondered about what would happen when he found she had only been arrested by mistake. Would he feel guilty about what he had done to her? Had he done it because he thought she was a criminal and deserved to be shamed and misused? Strictly speaking it had not been illegal, just cruel. Should she forgive him? Or perhaps it would best if they both simply forgot all about it.