Date with the Receptionist by jw_wjw
After the visits to Doctors Jorgensen and Stevenson, Melissa seemed to have her life go back to normal. Her parents hadn't gotten word of the events of the visits, and she seemed to be able to keep her clothes on for the time being. Friday came and so did her date with Brad. She was still uncomfortable about the whole ****** thing so she just decided to wear her usual outfit of a long-sleeved T-shirt, bra and *******, and floor-length skirt. The restaurant was thirty minutes away; after taking a shower and applying perfume she decided to leave an hour before the date, not wanting to be stuck in traffic. She was looking forward to having a full conversation with Brad with her clothes on.
State Trooper Hendrickson was on duty at the highway that evening, mostly content with catching speeders. He heard a buzz on the dispatch. "All units, we have reports of a suspected drug mule riding on the highway. Suspect is a female with long red hair, about five foot seven. If you find anything be sure to bring any persons of interest into the station."
Hendrickson didn't pay much mind to the announcement. How would he be able to find a female with long red hair about five foot seven in a sea of possibly thousands of cars? Besides, illicit substances was not his department. He decided to keep at his current job of finding speeders
and dealing with them as appropriate.
It turned out that Melissa should have left even earlier. Traffic was a nightmare; an accident had caused major gridlock, and Melissa barely moved for twenty minutes or more. When it all cleared up Melissa looked at her clock and realized she only had thirty minutes to spare! She wanted to be early so as not to be rushed in her entry, so she decided to go a bit faster than the speed limit. In her haste, she underestimated her speed. Waiting in the nearby bushes was Trooper Hendrickson scanning cars with his radar gun. He scanned a car going 70 miles per hour in a 60 zone! He started his car and blared his siren, motioning for the car to pull over. Melissa, in her ever compliant nature, obliged and quickly got out her license and registration.
Hendrickson walked up to her window, which Melissa had already rolled down.
"Good evening ma'am, do you know how fast you were going?"
"No, officer," replied Melissa meekly.
"You were going 70 in a 60 zone. May I see your license and registration?"
"Yes, officer," obliged Melissa as she handed the relevant documents to Hendrickson.
Hendrickson looked over the documents and everything appeared to be in order. He was in the process of writing Melissa a ticket when he noticed that her height on the license was 5'7. Noticing also that her hair was long, red, and tied into a ponytail, he decided to look further into the matter.
"Ma'am, have you swallowed any illegal substances recently?"
Melissa was stunned by such a question and got really nervous.
"Ummmm, no officer, I was on my way to a date."
Hendrickson misinterpreted this nervousness and started to think that Melissa was hiding something.
"And what is the nature of this, *date*, of yours?" Hendrickson inquired further.
"It's with this guy I met at a clinic," Melissa noted, not wanting to divulge that much information.
Hendrickson had worked with several officers who had dealt with controlled substances in the past and learned that "clinic" was often a euphemism used by drug dealers and mules alike. He still decided to give Melissa the benefit of the doubt and continued writing her ticket when a buzz on his walkie-talkie interrupted him.
"Excuse me one moment," he instructed Melissa as he decided to walk away for more privacy.
"Breaker breaker, how do you copy? Over." He spoke into the microphone.
"This drug mule on the run, Hendrickson," noted Lt. Anderson at the central dispatch office, "She's on YOUR road. I've been instructed to personally send out this message to each and every highway patrolman on duty on the road tonight: do NOT let this drug mule escape, she works for one of the deadliest and most efficient cartels in Mexico, and if you have any reason at all to suspect someone brings them in for questioning. Over."
"Roger, wilco. Over."
Hendrickson looked up at the pulled-over car and knew what he had to do.
Melissa was staring intently at the clock and noticed that five of those precious thirty minutes had elapsed with Officer Hendrickson. The Trooper came back and spoke words that Melissa had hoped she would never have to hear.
"Ma'am, please step out of the vehicle. You are under arrest for transport of contraband."
Her heart sank at those words but she nonetheless complied. Surely there must have been some sort of misunderstanding.
Apparently not. Hendrickson had her place her hands behind her back and cuffed them. "You have the right to remain silent," Hendrickson began to read Melissa her Miranda rights. After he was finished he guided Melissa to the back seat of his cruiser and she got in while he fastened her seatbelt for her. He then got in the front seat and spoke into his walkie-talkie.
"I have detained a possible suspect in a mid-sized automobile on the road. I'm bringing her to the station now and am calling for a vehicle impoundment," he said before giving the details on Melissa's car, "Over."
"Roger that, Hendrickson. I still don't want people to give up this manhunt - er, womanhunt - and risk the culprit getting away, so I'll let the others know but tell them to keep searching. Over."
Melissa was shocked at the conversation in front of her.
"Officer, I can swear to you that I have nothing to do with the drug trade. I met this guy at a clinic!" She said, immediately regretting speaking up to law enforcement like that.
"Ma'am, I'd like to believe you," Hendrickson replied, "But this particular person of interest works for one of the most elusive cartels around, you fit the description, and you keep saying this 'date' of yours works at a clinic."
"I DID meet him at a clinic!" Melissa said with increasing exasperation. "He works at a Dentist's and Optometrist's office! He's seen me naked!" Drats! Why did she say that last sentence?
Hendrickson mulled over her comments. People don't get naked at the dentist or optometrist. He must have convinced her to strip so he could put the packet suppository. This was getting curiouser and curiouser by the minute.
They arrived at the police station not long after. Hendrickson led Melissa to get her fingerprinted and have her mugshot taken, and then to his office and sat her down by his desk, making sure to lock the door beforehand.
"In case you didn't already know, ma'am," he said "I have detained you on suspicion of carrying illegal substances in your body. Do you understand?"
"Yes, officer," Melissa replied meekly, "I understand."
"As part of the investigation into these charges I need to perform a strip and cavity search on you. Do you understand?"
Melissa was stunned by such a turn of events. But, bemoaning what seemed to be her inevitable fate these days, she muttered "Yes, officer, I understand."
"Thank you, ma'am. I'll need to you disrobe now."
Date with the Receptionist pt. 2
Melissa stood up and began to disrobe. She swiped her shirt up over her head and placed it on the desk. She then unclasped her bra (she had chosen a nicer one than her usual sports bras), which quickly joined her shirt. She then decided to remove her skirt and ******* in one fell swoop, and they too found themselves on the desk.
She then stood **** in front of Officer Hendrickson. Neither Melissa nor Hendrickson appeared to show any emotion, but both were incredibly on edge.
"Apologies for all of this, ma'am, but I need to make sure you aren't in any possession of contraband," Hendrickson stated as he opened his desk drawer to get a flashlight and a box full of nitrile gloves. He donned a pair of gloves and turned on the flashlight.
"Open your mouth, please," he ordered, as Melissa obliged and Hendrickson shone the flashlight in her mouth and put some of his fingers in. Hendrickson decided to look in Melissa's nose and ears for good measure, not finding any contraband in any of the places.
Hendrickson threw his current pair of gloves in the trash and got a new one from his drawer. "Now I'm going to need you to put your hands on the wall and put your legs back a bit, like you're doing a downward dog but onto the wall, and spread them." Melissa complied and Hendrickson put his hands on her labia, ordering her to cough. Not finding anything yet, he decided to root in the area for the next thirty or so seconds. This was not meant to be ******, and Hendrickson tried to maintain as professional a procedure as possible, but Melissa couldn't help but get a bit wet in the area. Hendrickson saw this, well, moisture on his gloves and threw out that pair as well, and got a paper towel to dry Melissa off. He then got a third pair of gloves and decided to probe Melissa's posterior, once again not finding anything. He took off his gloves for the last time and decided to check her purse around as well and still found nothing. All told the searching took a minute or two.
At this point, Hendrickson would have probably let Melissa off with just the speeding ticket and told her she was free to go. But catching this mule would bring much evidence to put a major drug cartel away for good, and he hadn't heard back from anyone on the matter, so he felt that it was better safe than sorry.
"Ma'am," he explained to Melissa, who still had her hands to the wall, "You are free to get dressed and to place a call to anybody you'd like. However, I'm afraid I'll need to keep you in a cell with a bathroom pail until you pass two or three bowel movements just to make sure you're not carrying anything." With that, he handed Melissa her clothes and pointed her to the phone on his desk.
Melissa couldn't bear the thought of her parents finding out about this whole encounter, and she desperately needed to call Brad to tell him the date was off. So she called Brad, meanwhile neglecting to put her clothes on, which were still on her lap.
"Hey Brad, I just wanted to let you know that I'm under police custody on suspicion of being a drug mule. I insist that I'm not, but they're going to keep me here for a little while longer until I pass some BM's to make sure." She said, rather chirpily given the situation.
"Are you kidding me?!" Brad said angrily, knowing that his date with the hot patient was now being ruined, "Well, I'll just have to go down there and give them a piece of my mind."
"Brad, please don't, I don't want you to get in trouble too. Just wait a few hours and I might be able to call you when I get out."
"Well, this *****! I had everything planned and made reservations. Maybe we can do tomorrow night, same time?"
"Maybe, I'll have to let you know, love you!" She said as she hung up. Wow, what was with that "love you" at the end, she thought?
"Was that your boyfriend?" Hendrickson asked.
Melissa thought for a moment and replied "Yes... yes, that WAS my boyfriend!" with an uncharacteristic amount of confidence.
"Well, I can't keep you here indefinitely. I'll need to put you in a cell. Follow me," Hendrickson ordered, as he guided Melissa on the small of her back to an empty cell. Melissa was still ****, with her left arm clutching her clothes by her breasts and the bathroom pail in her right hand covering her private areas.
"I'll let you know when you can get out," Hendrickson said as Melissa entered the cell, "Let me know if you've done a BM or need anything."
"Okay, officer," replied Melissa as she sat down on the cold bench in the cell. The coldness shocked her rear and made her gasp and stand back up, and she finally remembered that she could, and indeed should get dressed.
As soon as he returned to his office Hendrickson received a buzz on his walkie-talkie.
"The suspected drug mule has been found. Turns out it was a real mother lode, pills upon pills and powder upon powder, all thanks to Officer Johnson. Officers at ease turn out this investigation seems closed at the moment. Over."
"Copy that, over."
Turns out that the lady he had pulled over was innocent after all.
He returned to the cell and found a fully clothed Melissa sitting on the metal bench.
"Major apologies for any inconvenience, ma'am. Turns out it was another redheaded lady who was smuggling all those drugs. I'll need to write you up a ticket for speeding, however. They're usually $100, but given all, you've been through I'll bring it down to $50. However, your vehicle has been impounded and it'll take $150 to get it out, and there's nothing I can do about that. In any event, you're free to go."
"Thank you, officer," said Melissa.
"You'll have to go to the front desk by the front room to pay the fees and get your car back." With that, Hendrickson handed Melissa back her purse and she went to the front office. It turned out there was a line, so she sat down on a wooden bench waiting for her turn. She found her phone in her purse and knew to call someone special immediately.
"Hey Brad, it's me, Melissa. I'm free to go at the police station, I just need to pay for a ticket I got. I don't think I can afford the fee to get my car out of the pound so I'll need you to pick me up."
"That's wonderful news! I can cover the impoundment fee as well and get your car towed back to your place."
"Thanks, Brad! See you there!" Melissa hung up, feeling rather good about tonight.
Date with the Receptionist pt. 3
The lady at the front desk finally called Melissa's name and Melissa stood up, finally glad to be getting out of the station. However, the wooden bench had been constructed decades ago and had not been maintained since, and there was a loose nail that made contact with Melissa's bottoms as she was standing up. It scratched her quite a bit, leaving a big rip in her skirt and ******* and even drawing some blood. Drats! Oh well, she had to make sure that no one would look at her backside. Maybe she could say she forgot it was her time of the month.
She took care of the ticket at the front desk and waited outside for Brad. He came, went in and paid her fees, and arranged for her car to be towed back to her place, instructing her to wait in his car. She did, amazed of how fancy it was. She was also very self-conscious about leaving blood on her seat. Eventually, Brad got in and started driving to the restaurant.
"So how has your day been?" He started the conversation.
"Good, good," replied Melissa despite the hectic nature of the day.
They made small talk all throughout the drive. Brad noted that she was fully dressed.
"Well, you know, this is how I usually dress," said Melissa.
"You don't need to lie to me, sweetheart," Brad replied.
Melissa was stunned by this response. Half of her demanded on insisting that she wasn't lying, that this WAS how she dressed. The other half was taken aback by his use of "sweetheart." The split forces essentially paralyzed Melissa into saying nothing for the rest of the trip.
They arrived at the restaurant, which was a fast-casual Italian restaurant. They checked in with the receptionist and were shown their table. Melissa was fascinated by their fancy chairs and especially didn't want to put blood on them.
"Excuse me for a second, I need to go and powder my nose," she said, to which Brad conceded.
She ran to the ladies' room and looked in the mirror by the sinks. The bleeding had stopped but there was a significant amount of red at the back of her skirt. She decided to fix the situation herself, taking a few spritzes of soap from the dispenser and dashed into the nearest stall. No way she would be caught bottomless by the sink!
She took her skirt and ******* off and rubbed the soap on the red parts by the tear. It seemed to do well on the blood stains and they seemed to be going away fairly easily. Now all she needed was some water. She put the red part of each garment into the toiler bowl, hoping to do this quickly and get back to Brad. Unfortunately for her, this was an automatic-flush toilet. Her scrubbing the garments in the bowl activated its sensors, and before she could react to the ominous sound of water rushing, both garments were sucked from her grasp down the drain, joining the other contents of the restaurant's sewerage system.
Rats! Melissa didn't know what to do without her bottoms and with Brad waiting in the main dining area.
This is the first of two alternate endings I think I'll post on here after the end of pt. 3. The other will be much nicer to Melissa, and I hope I'll be able to post it before the board closes. As always, I release this work into the public domain.
Melissa decided to just brazen it out and run back to the table, hoping that no one would notice her. This seemed to work as she sat down across from Brad without any major incident or attention being drawn towards her.
"So how has your summer been?" Brad asked her casually.
"Oh, you know, just cooling off after my first year of college," replied Melissa cheerfully.
They continued the conversation casually until Brad brought up something.
"I have something you might be looking for," Brad said, pulling a pair of ******* out from his pocket.
Melissa was astonished. Those were the pair of ******* from the visit with Dr. Jorgensen!
"I noticed these were with your skirt when the dentist gave them to me. I liked you so much I decided to keep them for myself until we got on a date!"
Melissa was furious, but ever the compliant girl she decided to keep her mouth shut and grin and bear it.
"I'll give these back to you when I drop you off," Brad said, putting them back in his pocket. Drats, right when she needed them!
The waiter came back and took their orders. Melissa hadn't really looked all that carefully at the menu but figured that Chicken Marsala wouldn't be all that bad. Brad for his part ordered a salmon dinner.
The two chatted on and on, and Melissa felt more and more comfortable despite her half-dressed condition. It turned out Brad was from a very puritanical household and had never had a girlfriend before tonight.
"Wow, you're very handsome! I don't quite believe that," Melissa responded.
Just then the waiter came back with their food. He was able to put Brad's salmon on the table without incident. However, he stubbed his foot on the table leg when giving Melissa her Chicken Marsala, spilling everything on Melissa's shirt.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" He said, trying to scoop some of Melissa's food off her shirt. "Let me place another order for that, no extra charge!"
He rushed away to the kitchen, while a busboy who had seen the incident walked over and told Melissa that he would be able to clean her shirt.
"Oh, don't worry about it!" she said.
"Ma'am, that shirt's messed up. It's better to wash it here before all the stuff dries up. I think I can do it in the dishwasher."
Melissa brushed the rest of the food off her shirt, pulled it over her head, and gave it to the busboy, who ran off to the kitchen with it.
She spent the rest of the evening in just her bra and the napkin she so religiously clinged to her crotch. She and Brad really had a wonderful conversation (although his eyes did stare rather low), and he told her about his plans to further pursue medicine and be a doctor.
"Wow, that's so wonderful," she said, quite chirpily.
The waiter came with some more Chicken Marsala and gave it to Melissa without any hassle. He announced that he had told the chef of the ordeal and was comping their whole meal.
A couple of minutes later the busboy came back with some bad news.
"My apologies, but it turns out that I put the dishwasher on too high a power and it disintegrated your shirt. It was just a bunch of soggy fibers when I took it out, so here's $50 for the cost of it," he said, as he discreetly handed Melissa the bill and she put it in her purse.
Rats! Here she was with no bottoms and no ability to conceal it this time. Oh well, she'll cross that bridge when she gets to it.
The two eventually finished their meals and headed out of the restaurant. Melissa kept her purse over her crotch, but Brad could tell that she might need those *******.
When they got out of the restaurant Brad got an idea.
"Hey Melissa, would you like to go out at Lookout Point and look at the stars?"
"Sure, I'd love that!"
"But do you think you'll really need this?" Brad said mischievously as he unhooked the back of Melissa's bra. She looked back at him with a gaping mouth but said nothing. He pulled the bra off her with ease, and Melissa watched as he put it in the nearby trash bin.
"Come on, let's go," he said as Melissa looked back at the trash bin longingly.
The drive to Lookout Point went without incident and took only about 5 minutes. When they arrived Brad got out of the car. Melissa was highly suspicious of there being other people in the area.
"Come on, don't you want to see the stars?" He asked her.
"Brad, I'm naked," she responded, the first time in all of the recent instances where that was true when she was able to say it.
"Chicken!" He replied, and so Melissa got out completely ****.
They decided to sit on the hood of Brad's car. Brad sat at the windshield and draped his legs at the length of the hood. Melissa sat at his right, holding her legs to her abdomen and leaning into him. He put his right arm around her, and she placed her cheek on his. They looked out at the ocean and the dark night sky and looked at all the stars out that night. They were like that for about an hour, quite calmly and peacefully.
"Well, I guess it's time to get you home," Brad said.
"Yeah, I guess so," Melissa replied.
The drive home was uneventful and neither spoke. Melissa looked out the window and, tired from all that had happened, smiled. There was Melissa's car in her driveway, and the lights didn't appear to be on.
"Good night, sweetheart," Brad said as he pecked her on the cheek. Brad didn't make any mention of the *******, nor did Melissa seem to care.
"Good night," Melissa said.
Melissa walked up to her door, let herself into the house, and went to her bedroom. Exhausted, she decided to sleep **** for the night, slipped off her sandals, and slid underneath her covers. She was out within five minutes.