Transporting Leslie Adams

She was wearing the black stilettos from Jasmine's around the house, just to get used to them. It was kinda hard to walk in them and the leg irons, but that was the whole point of practice, she thought. She was washing dishes when the prepaid rung. She shuffled over as fast as she could and answered it after the third ring. It was LJ. He asked her why the fuck it took her so long to answer the phone. She apologized and explained herself. He warned her not to let it happen again, and told her that he'd gotten good reports on her yesterday. He went on to tell her that he wanted her supervising the admin detail everyday. She replied that she would have to change shifts to do that. His reply was, "Your Momma is the fuckin' sheriff; you can get whatever shift you want." She gave in and said that she would take care of it, one way or another. He had another demand for her. When she wasn't on duty, she couldn't carry her badge or gun. She complained that she was supposed to, that she had to be on call twenty-four seven. He finally compromised with her, for the first time. He said that she could leave them locked in the glove box of her car, but to always carry a pair of cuffs on her. She accepted this new limitation on her life. He warned her one more time about answering the phone faster, and hung up.

The next day at work she asked her mom to move her to evening shift, and assign her the admin detail. Sheriff Mills asked why, and Aimee replied that she just wanted to. Her mom agreed, and starting the next day, she would report at 4pm for third shift.

She stopped by the police gym for her normal workout after work. That night, she got a call from LJ. He told her which outfit to bring, and that he wanted some real food, a steak. She told him that she would see what she could do about the food. He replied, "Bitch, if I don't get no steak, then you don't get no steak."

The next day, she cooked LJ a thick steak. She had removed the cuffs and leg irons from the night before, but had on a pair of slip-on platforms that were meant to be worn around the house, according to the instructions she was given. The steak would have to be warmed up in the microwave, but this was the best she could do. She packed the steak and baked potato, along with a few cokes into a small cooler. (Author's note: I live in the south, it's ALL coke.:)

She had the outfit LJ wanted in her duffel bag and the cooler in the trunk when she went to work. She spent three hours working at the jail, and then took LJ to the admin building. She took him to the break room, and put his meal in the microwave. He told her to go change, but to keep her duty belt on. She went into the ladies room and put on the tiny, stretchy fetish cops uniform. The top was long sleeved, but stretched over her chest, and only came down a few inches below her tits anyway. The hot pants were tight over her ass, and showed a distinctive camel toe in front. Of course, the then thong with a badge in front underneath it didn't help much either. She laced up the knee-high platform boots, put on the collar that was a special addition, and last, put her duty belt back on. She went to the mirror to get a good look at herself. Somehow, the duty belt, with the gun, taser, baton, and her other gear, made her look even more ridiculous; which she figured was the point. She walked back into the break room to find that LJ had finished his meal. He told her how sexy she was, and cuffed her. He cleaned up the offices, finishing up in her mom's office again. He pulled down her wet hot pants and thong, leaving her duty belt on, and bent her over the desk and gave her his steak. Both satisfied; he un-cuffed her and let her dress. They went back to the jail. As she dropped him off, the deputy asked her what the mark was on her neck. She turned red, mumbled something incomprehensible, and left.

The next several days were more of the same, except LJ had her wear different outfits for him, including the jumpsuit that she wore at the motel that night. LJ called her most nights. Friday night, he called her and told her that she was getting a makeover tomorrow, and some work done on her car. He gave her the details of where to go and who to ask for, and hung up.

The next day she put on something from Jasmine's, since she was going to Greenville. Black and red spandex top, black hot pants with red stripes down the sides, red leather belt, red and black platform heels, red plastic hoop ear rings, half-a-dozen plastic bangles on each wrist, alternating red and black, and a red leather collar.

She went to ‘Tre's Phat Customz' first. She went in the door marked ‘Office' and wasn't surprised to hear loud, abrasive rap music blaring away. She walked up to the desk, getting admiring stares from the three Black men sitting behind it. She asked for Tre'. One of them got up and said that it was him. She told him that LJ had sent her. He got her credit card and after letting her sign a blank receipt, gave it back to her. She took him out to her car, and he had one of his employees take it into the shop. Tre' told her that it would be about a week, and the he had a loaner for her. She took the low rider truck with Tre's Phat Customz logos on it, and left for the salon LJ told her to go to.

It was in the Greenville Mall. She went in, and once more endured the whistling and cat calls. She asked for Jenny, and was told that Jenny was with a client, and that she would have to wait. Aimee sat down and thumbed through a fashion magazine about ten minutes until Jenny came out. She was blonde, had on heavy make up, and was wearing a pink smock. Aimee didn't see anything under it until she turned around. She had on a tiny soft pink top and matching short shorts. Even her tennis shoes were pink. Aimee told her that LJ had sent her. Jenny had her let Tiffany keep her handbag for her. Aimee passed it to her, and Tiffany put it under the counter. Jenny was very friendly as she took Aimee to the back. She talked Aimee's ears off the next few hours as she did her hair, nails, and make-up. She even had Aimee pull off her hot pants and panties, and gave her a Brazilian wax. She didn't let Aimee see a mirror until she was done. Aimee was shocked by what she saw. She was bleached blonde, obviously fake, her face had on more make-up than she had ever worn, but not near as much as Jenny. Her lips were bright red and looked wet. Her finger and toenails were bright red, fortunately only a quarter inch long on her fingers. She looked like a complete slut. Like a dumb blonde bimbo. Jenny asked what she thought. Aimee thought a few seconds. She replied that if this was what LJ wanted, it was what LJ would get. They went out to the desk, were Tiffany returned her purse. Jenny offered her a piece of gum, saying that it would help complete the look. Aimee took it and thanked her as Tiffany scanned her credit card. Aimee signed the receipt, giving Jenny a twenty dollar tip for the Bimbo number one make-over. I can't believe all of this is going to be in my credit records, she thought as she thanked them both again and left. As she was leaving, Becky from Bodies was coming in. She liked Becky's new look as much as Becky liked hers. Becky had a thick leather collar with a large lead ring around her neck, locked with a small padlock, as she was eager to show her. She was also sporting matching wrists cuffs, also padlocked. She thanked Aimee for telling Tony where to get the handcuffs. Becky told her the he cuffed her every chance he got, and she loved it.

Aimee returned to work a couple of days later, still driving the loaner. Her fellow deputies were wary of her new look, but the prisoners loved it. She saw quite a few with a hand in their pocket. It was a relief to take LJ on detail. She changed into a black cat suit, with an opening at the crotch. Platform boots and a collar went with it. She spent the next several hours handcuffed, as he cleaned the offices. He sat down in her mother's chair this time, and she climbed into his lap and straddled him. Before she was completely satisfied, she had to take him back to jail. He un-cuffed her and she changed back into her uniform. She dropped him off with the deputy at the gate, and went home. Naked and cuffed, she fell asleep.

Five days later Aimee got ready to go pick up her car. Per LJ's instructions, she was wearing a tube top, miniskirt, and platform heels, all in white. A white leather collar was on her neck, as well as plastic hoop earrings and bangle bracelets, also white. When she saw herself in her mirror at home, she came close to disobeying LJ. The top stretched over her breasts, leaving most of her chest and belly naked. The skirt was even worse; it would barely cover her ass; when she was standing anyway. Sitting, it had no chance. The cheap white thong underneath was wet before she even left the house. Aimee knew that she would be arrested for indecent exposure in Lee County. Probably in Greenville too, she thought as she got into the loaner and pulled out of her drive way.

Aimee tugged down the hem of her skirt as she got out of the car and Tre's Phat Customz. Grabbing her small white handbag, she strutted into the office. That obnoxious rap was still on, she noticed. She had always preferred country, or pop was ok sometimes. She hated rap; always talking about slappin' ho's, pimpin', shootin', and gang bangin'. One of Tre's employees came into the office from another door. After gawking at her a second, he smiled, walked over and leaned on the counter. She had trouble understanding him, and he seemed to be having trouble standing. Aimee thought she might be sick or something, his eyes were bloodshot. An odor hit her nostrils that seemed familiar. She sniffed the air and placed it. POT! He was high on pot! The first thing that went through her mind was arresting him on the spot. Then she remembered how she was dressed, and that she was out of her jurisdiction. Aimee was still wondering what she should do when the door opened again and Tre' came in. He quickly hustled his stoned employee to the couch, out of the way. Tre' complimented her style; well he told her that she was, "One fine ass ho." Aimee guessed that counted as a compliment. She turned red and thanked him. Tre' took her into the shop, and to her civic.

Aimee barely recognized it. Gone was the blue-grey paint that she had picked out from the dealership. In its place was pearl white paint with sparkles embedded in it. The rims caught her eye next. They were shiny chrome spinners. She hated spinners. She gave a ticket to anyone she pulled over with spinners. She cursed under her breath. Tre' just chuckled and showed her the interior. The seats and steering wheel were soft white leather, with matching dash and carpets. Even the console and buttons were white. They had ripped out her driver's airbag and put a LCD screen in the steering wheel. Then Tre' showed her his favorite feature. The automatic transmission shifter had a white cover over it, with a smiley face on it. He pulled it off and revealed a big black dildo. Tre' explained that it was LJ's number one request for her car. The dildo was the transmission shifter. Aimee was horrified when Tre' explained that it was the only way to change gears. If the car was parked, or in drive, she could put the cover on and no one would see it; but when ever she had to shift gears, she would have to use the dildo. With the rest of the car white, the black dildo would stand out. Anyone that looked in would see it easily. Tre' invited her to sit down and try it out. Reluctantly, she sat down in the driver's seat. The leather did feel good on her bare legs, she thought. She felt the leather wrapped steering wheel, thinking it felt nice too. She reached for the shifter slowly, setting her palm on top of it and gripping it. She wrapped her hand around it and stroked down. God! It even felt like a dildo. Every time she even sat in her car she would think about sex. Tre' interrupted her day dreaming by telling her to start the car. She turned the ignition and more of that loud rap blasted from the speakers. She looked for the controls and found the off button. The music stopped and the LCD screen in the steering wheel came to life. She looked at the screen and saw a white woman sucking on a black dick. PORN! The flushed deputy looked for a way to turn it off. She couldn't. After a few seconds of searching, she just turned the car off. The blowjob continued if front of her. She pulled the keys out of the ignition and it finally stopped. Tre' found her trouble very amusing. He told Aimee how her old stereo had been ripped out and replaced with a 10 speaker, 500 watt system with a 160 gig hard drive. She complained that she hated rap, but Tre' told her that LJ wanted 20 gigs of rap, and 140 gigs of porn. He also explained to her that the computer was password protected, and the car wouldn't run unless the stereo and LCD screen were hooked up.

Aimee was visibly upset at this point. Everyone would hear that shit; and see her behind the wheel. Everywhere she went people were already asking her who her new man was, when they weren't calling her a bimbo, or an undercover hooker or something else anyway. Now she had to drive around with this . . . this shit blasting in her ears.

Tre' told her that she had some paperwork to sign in the office. He held her hand and helped her out of the low civic. He let her walk ahead of him, probably just to get an eyeful, she thought. Once in the office, he led her to the couch that pothead was on earlier. Tre' asked if she wanted anything to drink, and she declined as she tried to get her tiny miniskirt to cover her mound. Tre' brought a stack of papers over. He told her that she owed him a little over four grand. She asked him about her credit card, and Tre' replied that he had maxed it out. Aimee was stunned; they had ruined her car, maxed out her credit card that had over eight grand on it, and it was still going to cost her over four thousand dollars. Aimee was almost in tears now. She told Tre' that she didn't have that kind of money. Tre' handed her a credit application. It was already filled out, she just needed to sign, he said. Aimee took the pen he offered and leaned forward to sign it. She glanced up and noticed him staring down her top. Oh well, nothing she could do about that dressed like this, she thought. The interest rate caught her eye. Twenty-seven point nine-nine percent! Outraged, she told him that she wasn't paying that, it was robbery. Tre' calmly replied that %27.99 was the maximum legal interest rate in this state. Aimee didn't care, she wasn't paying it. With a chuckle, Tre' told her to call LJ, that he was expecting it.

Fuming, she walked outside and dialed his prepaid. He answered on the first ring. She told him what was going on, what Tre' had done to her car, and what he was charging her. LJ told her to calm down. She did, and he explained to her that Tre' was a close friend, and had gone through a lot of trouble for him. She had a choice; she could sign the contract and pay him, or she could pay him what her credit card didn't by helping him advertise. She thought a moment, and then hesitantly asked how she would have to help. LJ told her that Tre' wanted to do a calendar shoot with some of the cars he had pimped out, including hers, and he needed a model. She said that she would think about it, and hung up. She paced outside the shop a few minutes, ignoring the honks from the passing cars. With that insane interest rate, her payments would be almost $250 a month, for three years. She wasn't even going to be able to pay off her credit card in a few years, much less with what was practically a car payment on top of that. She would have to do that calendar shoot. She walked back in and told Tre' the good news. Tre' smiled, and his two employees gave each other high fives. Tre' set it up for the following Saturday, since that was her next day off. She gave him her prepaid number, so he could call and tell her what outfits to bring, besides what she was wearing. She signed that contract for the shoot after barely a glance, not reading the parts giving Tre' total intellectual rights, and him complete ownership of all the images from the shoot. She would get $4,067.35, her outstanding debt with Tre's Phat Customz. Tre' and LJ would split the rest of the profits, with Tre' getting three-quarters and LJ getting twenty-five percent. Aimee got in the white civic, set her pure on the passenger seat, grabbed the dildo, and drove away; the loud rap blaring away the whole drive home.

Once she got home, Aimee parked her car, put the cover over the dildo, and when into her house. She paced back and forth in her kitchen, heels tapping, trying to figure out what to do about her car. She didn't want anyone to see her in it, but she couldn't afford another one. What she really needed was a good fucking, she thought as she idly brushed her fingers across the front of her miniskirt. LJ wouldn't allow that, though. The only way to get her mind off of that was a good workout; but that would mean driving her car to the police gym in Lee City. Oh well, they'll see it sooner or later anyway, she thought. She headed to her bedroom to change, then drove to the gym.

The next day, she had to drive to work. Everyone questioned her change in music; but with all of her other recent changes, didn't make a big deal about it. She wore the white tube top and mini combo with her hands and upper arms cuffed behind her while supervising LJ on detail. She tried to complain to him about her car, but he would have none of it; saying that's how he wants his ‘snow ho' to roll. Then, to change the subject, LJ told her how sexy she looked, and fucked her. After he gave her three orgasms, LJ relaxed in her mother's executive chair while Aimee gave him a leisurely blowjob. He asked her what she was doing the next few days. Looking up, she replied that she had to renew her driver's license, but other than that just the usual stuff. LJ smiled as an idea formed in his mind. He told her that she had to wear something from Jasmine's; he'd tell her what later. She complained that everyone at the county court house knew her, and would see her. LJ gave her permission to wear a trench coat, but she had to take the license picture wearing what he told her to. She agreed, and finished his blowjob.

It was too warm for a coat, but Aimee pulled the calf length leather coat tight as she went into the courthouse. Heels clicking on the tile floor, she walked into the DMV office. Staci, a friend from high school was working. She was happy to see Aimee, asking if what she'd heard about her new man was true. Warily, Aimee asked what she'd heard; hoping the truth hadn't gotten out. Staci replied that she had heard that Aimee must have found a man that was great in bed, cuz she always looked well satisfied lately. With a sigh of relief, Aimee agreed, but refused to give any details. Staci finished setting everything up, and told her that it was picture time. Aimee took off her coat and laid it over a chair. Staci looked up and her jaw dropped. Aimee flushed as Staci stared at her. Hot pink platform heels, with matching hot pants and spandex belly shirt, plastic bangles and earrings. The hot pants had a black handprint on one butt cheek, and a shiny black belt was around her waist. A 2 ½' wide black leather collar was around her neck, with a large lead ring hanging from the front. On the front of the top, in black lettering about 2 inch high were the words, "CUFF ME." Aimee stood in front of the camera and asked Staci to please make sure that she got her collar and top in the frame. Staci was speechless, this was the Sheriff's daughter, a straight-laced girl growing up, and she wanted her driver's license picture taken dressed like a slut. She finally nodded and snapped the picture. Aimee leaned over the counter to see it on the computer screen. It was perfect. There would be no mistaking the thick collar, or the words on her chest. After the computer contacted the state database, it produced her new license. Staci printed it out and after taking her old license, handed the new one to her. Aimee thanked her and walked back to get her coat.