The Practice Dummy_New October 2

[TeenFan]

The Practice Dummy
Part 14. A Free Van Ride


The police van was big enough to transport a dozen of me. The one heading from the area near the park to the downtown police station
only had two relatively small kids sitting on one of the long seats. Angie sat next to me on my left side, her right wrist handcuffed to my
balls. Angie's hand rests on my left thigh since it can't move very far from my cuffed crotch. Our two bikes take up some space at the back
of the van.

For way too long my dick was hard up at attention. The hotness of the police chick had something to do with it, as well as the grubby fingers
of a little girl who thought it was okay to cop a feel of my cock while the arresting cop wasn't looking.

Finally, my dick lost its erection. It felt weird to feel my softer penis locked up and squeezed within the circular link of one half of the
handcuffs. I wondered it any of this was proper police procedures. Locking a young girl like Angie to another suspect? Wrist to weenie?

When the van pulled up to the police station, the building was larger than I expected. It was three stories tall and took up nearly half a
city block. How many cops are in there? How many people do they have locked up? I was really starting to get scared. Angie must have
been thinking about the circumstances of our arrest...well...maybe those surrounding my arrest.

"What does lewd conduct mean?"

I gave an answer as best I could. "It's not being naked on the street. That one is covered under the indecent exposure. Maybe it's because I
was naked with you. We were riding our bikes together."

"You think your stiffy dickie sticking up has anything to do with it? My mom said I can see some Rated R movies that have naked people in them.
But she said "No movies where the guy gets and uses an erection. No exception." That is what she said. Mom never told me what the guys
do with their erections in a movie. What do you think they do?"

I'm scared out of my mind, headed to jail, and all Angie thinks about is what boys do when their dicks get hard. I swear that girl has boners
on the brain. She's ready for sex education and she wants an A for a grade, and seems ready and willing to do extra homework if necessary.
At least the driver wasn't asking any questions. The old man driver just drove the van.

When the van stopped at the side of the large building, I wished the drive wasn't over so soon. I was not ready to get out of the van and face
the new world I found myself in. The squad car pulls up right behind, and after getting out of her vehicle Officer Daly opens up the side door.
The officer grabs hold of me, hangs on tight as I step down from the van. I have to go slow, since Angie is handcuffed to a very sensitive
and easily damaged area. As I stand near the van, I see two young black women walking by on the street wearing short shorts and tank tops.
I don't know it those two black ladies are hookers or not, having no idea what is normal attire for streetwalkers, or for most people on a
downtown street. Stopping in their tracks they start up a whole conversation and all about me.

"Look at that sweet thang," one of the black ladies says.

"If he ran away from home and his momma...I'll be his momma," the second black woman says. "But I think that boy is a drug dealer. I'm sure
he's been selling crack."

"What kind of crack is that boy selling?"

"Butt crack from the looks of it."

The two streetwalkers cackle like clucking hens. The two ladies walk off when Officer Daly motions for them to move on down the road.
Considering the attention I'm drawing out on the street, I changed my mind and couldn't wait to get into that jail.

[Jeepman89]

I wonder what awaits the boy at the jail?

[Trundle]

I keep trying to think how much worse can things get for the boy, how much more embarrassment can he take.

He's being dragged into a jail, completely naked!

I wonder what TeenFan has in store for us, can't wait.

[TeenFan]

The Practice Dummy
Part 15. Scared Stiff


It must have been a slow time of day down at the city jail. When I was taken into the main lobby only a few cops were hanging around.
Officer Daly held me by the arm as she pulled me toward an old desk at the back of the room. I could hear whispered comments as the cops
stared at me. For the first time all day Angie actually looks scared. Up to now it was more amusing to the girl than a cause for alarm, but
now we're being marched up toward a very tough looking, very mean looking, stocky woman officer in a dark blue uniform.

"What the hell are you dragging in here, Officer Daly?" the duty sergeant growls at my arresting officer. That woman was so fear inducing I
was immediately queasy to my stomach. I was afraid I might throw up on the spot. I have my hands over my crotch. I'm scared stiff, but
fortunately I'm no longer stiff dicked. Covering up is easier without the erection.

"Sergeant Funston...I um, I caught this kid riding a bike with no clothes on. He admitted to streaking through the city park."

Sergeant Funston's demeanor lightened up immediately. She actually smiles. She takes out a clipboard which she tosses on the desk with a
clatter. "But why is this darling little girl handcuffed to his nuts?"

Officer Daly sounds unsure of herself, not knowing if her actions will meet approval or be the cause of ridicule, as she says, "I forgot to have
a second set of cuffs available. I didn't' know the best way to keep both of them under control."

Sergeant Funston winks at Angie. "Well little lady. How did you find yourself in this mess?...Hmmm...not ready to talk yet. Well, I'll read the
full report after Officer Daly types it up."

I raise my hand as if I'm at school and need permission from the teacher to talk. After the duty sergeant nods her head I ask, "Sorry about
the streaking through the park. It won't happen again. Can I get something to wear?"

"Something to wear? Now that is a problem. You see there is a regulation here in this city. This rule came about after the wave of streaking
that happened when I was a kid back in the late 70s. There were so many incidents of streaking in this city that the city council allowed for
a new rule concerning arrests and jail time here. No arrested suspect caught in the act of streaking or naked protest shall be afforded bodily
coverings while in the custody of the city police force. They figured if a criminal suspect willingly shed his or her clothing in public, then
that suspect no longer has the automatic right to be provided a prisoner's uniform. Sorry kid. They never changed the regulation."

Sergeant Funston smiles again, apparently not sorry at all for my predicament.

Angie and I are led to the corner of the next room, which has several rows of desks. Officer Daly doesn't have a desk of her own, has to borrow
one. Several seated officers, both male and female officers, look up at me and they grin. I must be the funniest thing they've seen come through in quite some time.

"While I type this report can somebody get this kid fingerprinted and photographed," my arresting officer asks to nobody in particular.

[Trundle]

I was hoping you'd find a way to make sure Dirk wasn't given any clothes once in the jail and you managed it with that 70s streaking law, good writing to find a way around it

Looking forward to the poor boy getting fingerprinted and photographed. Imagine he popped a boner before his photo, he wouldn't want that to be on his public record photograph would he?

[TeenFan]

The Practice Dummy
Part 16. First Identification Photo


After being cuffed to Angie for what seemed way too long a time, the cuffs were removed from Angie's wrist and my balls. Angie was plunked
down in a chair next to the desk Officer Daly sat at, as the officer busily worked a keyboard to type up the arrest report. As a woman police
officer with the name Fratello on her name plate escorted me over to the fingerprinting station, I could see my friend answering questions, but
I can't hear what is being said. I suppose I should begin to think of her as my girlfriend. After all, Angie has seen me naked several times now
and touched and handled just about every part of my body.

Officer Fratello is the same height at Officer Daly, but she is probably twenty years older and at least forty pounds heavier. With a no nonsense
look about her, she drags me off for fingerprinting. I'm desperately clutching at my groin, still not willing to just let myself all hang out. Can't
they tell from this attempt to maintain my modesty that I'm not a streaker, that I would never streak through a city park. Streakers don't cover
up. Don't they get that?

At the the first ID station my right hand is yanked from my midsection to the ink blotter. Officer Fratello gets each finger pressed down nice
n firm on the sheet of paper. First the right hand and then the left. The pads of all ten digints are now coated in black ink. I want to cover
up again but I'd be placing ink smudges all over my cock and balls. I was going to grab myself firmly anyway when Officer Fratello yanks my
wrists behind my back again. Once again I'm handcuffed, but this second time I'm cuffed only to myself.

"Hey...what is this? Why am I cuffed again?" I yelled out. It made no sense to me to be handcuffed like a dangerous criminal. I'm no danger to
these big and strong police officers. I'm naked and unarmed in a police station, so how much of a threat could I pose to others? The worse part
about it is I'm now unable to cover up. As I get pulled along from fingerprinting toward the mug shot camera station, every officer in the room
is smirking at me, some of them openly laughing.

On the wall in front of the camera is a height chart. There are painted shoeprints on the floor indicating where I'm supposed to stand, and the
irony of it is not lost on me. The only thing I got to my name, the only thing in my possession is my shoes. I thought I needed my hands free,
to hold up the sign in front of me that has my name and other info on it. I'd seen that in old photos and movies. Turns out that is all done
digitally now. All I have to do is face the camera and smile...okay, I didn't have to smile. I certainly was not smiling.

"How much of me shows up on this mug shot?" I asked Officer Fratello.

She places her hand at my chest, fingertips touching my pectoral muscle. Then unexpectedly, Officer Fratello pinches my nipple. She gives it
a good squeeze and I yelp.

"Oh, from about here on up. That is what the photo will show. You have some nice little boy nippies. I bet your girlfriend back there teases
and tickles you all the time. Do you play doctor with her little man? Do you let her place a toy stethoscope on your stiffie to measure your
fast beating heart? Your heart is beating a mile a minute," the officer says to me as she flicks and rubs both of my nipples.

I feel my face burning. It's getting warm in this police station. The temperature of my skin is on the rise. I can't believe it, the policewoman
processing me is actually flirting with me, giving me titty twisters. Officer Fratello then backs away to manipulate the camera. "Give me a nice
smile studmuffin man. Or maybe I should call you Streaker Stan."

Five minutes later I saw a copy of my mug shot and I looked shell shocked. I had wild looking eyes, and I must have looked like I was high on something. Anyone looking at that photo would believe I was a true menace to society. At the risk of more harassment, I asked when I
could get something to wear. Yes I heard everything that the Duty Sergeant said about the still on the books "Streaker Law", but it never hurts
to get a second opinion.

"According to regulations, an arrested streaker can receive clothing from their lawyer."

"My lawer? I'm only fourteen. I don't have a lawyer."

"You can get something to wear if an acceptable visitor brings you something."

"A visitor? What kind of visitor might I expect?"

"You do have a phone call available to you. You can call your momma, sweetie pie. Did anyone ever tell you, you have the cutest little
dinghy?"

[TeenFan]

The Practice Dummy
Part 17. Holding Cell Situation


Officer Fratello holds my right arm by the elbow. I'm done with processing and being brought back to the desk where Angie sits next to
our arresting officer. As I stand, hands cuffed behind my back, I feel so confused. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. Angie doesn't look
to be afraid, and that surprises me. In fact she is smiling. Officer Daly is smiling as well. Looks to me like my little female friend (not about
to use the term girlfriend) enjoyed telling the whole story about what happened and Officer Daly enjoyed writing it all down.

"Very interesting story this little girl told me. She claims none of this is your fault. However, all the charges stand. A judge or jury will decide
what happens with you, Mr. Bannister, first name Dirk."

Officer Daly holds up the typed up and printed out arrest report. She read the details back to me, asked me if there was anything I'd like to add.
I chose not to offer any more information. I thought it best to say nothing.

While I stood there, I got to listen in to the phone call that Angie is allowed to make. That girl is a smart one. She didn't call her mom, but
called an aunt instead. "My aunt is a lawyer. Maybe she can represent both of us at the same time," Angie said as she dialed the telephone that
sat on the desk. I nod my head in approval. I don't know the name of any lawyer to call on my own behalf. Also I'm not eager to make my own
phone call. I don't want my mom to find out about this. I'm trying to figure out a way keep my family from finding out.

When Angie put down the phone she said her aunt would be there in a couple hours. It was at that moment I recalled what I heard from Officer
Fratello, about who can provide me with something to wear. A lawyer representing me can bring me clothes to put on, but in my nervousness
and confusion I never said anything to Angie while the girl talked to her aunt. Oh fiddlesticks...an opportunity lost.

"I'm going to put these kids in the holding cells," Officer Fratello says, and she again grabs me by the arm. As we head off toward an exit door
another voice calls out. It's Funston, the Duty Sergeant calling us back.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to put him in with the men," Sergeant Funston says as she steps closer. "That room is full of mean bastards. I got
guys in there who are accused of assault with a deadly weapon, domestic violence, and even rape. Our young buck here would be vulnerable
to some pervert's unwelcome attention. Too bad we don't have a juvenile holding cell to put him in."

My heart skipped at least two beats when I heard I could get tossed into the same cell that has all the other criminals caught that day. I'd have
no chance if some punk gang member wanted to mess up my face, or some dirty biker dude thought my ass looked sweet enough to make his
acquaintance with. "Yes, yes. Don't toss me in with them" I begged and pleaded. The duty sergeant looks me up and down, and fortunately she
took pity on me.

"Take him to the women's detention cell. That little girl you can leave her here to wait for that aunt of hers to arrive. I don't want those two
kids in the same cell. Not a good idea for them to work out their stories together, for when Mr. Bannister is brought before the bail judge."

[Jeepman89]

Perfect scenario putting him in the women's cell. LOL

[Trundle]

LOVE where this story is going so far.

Dirk has somehow ended up completely naked and being put in a women's detention cell. What a bizarre situation to be in, it's definitely better than being put in with the men but that doesn't mean it will be perfect. I'm sure there are women in there who will be more than happy to get their hands on the poor boy.

Cannot wait for the next update. It's two hours until Angie's Aunt arrives, plenty of time for trouble for Dirk.

[TeenFan]

The Practice Dummy
Part 18. Getting Settled In


When I was taken out of the main room of the police precinct station, I was glad to get away from the smirking smiles of the other police
officers. However, my sense of dread rose up again as officer Fratello escorted me down a hallway. At the end of the hall a double doors swung
open wide automatically. Beyond was another door of another type, a sliding door of metal bars opens with a buzzing sound before sliding open.
A large, somewhat fat male guard chuckles as I step into the female detention section. My name is written down on some kind of dry erase board on the wall in black ink. I see my name added to Holding Cell A. It looked like four other names were listed for that holding cell.

The holding cell was the first large room on the right side of the hallway. It's not what looked like a room to me. The wall facing the hallway is
metal bars stretching around twenty-five feet across. The three other walls are solid brick and mortar, painted over with white paint. It's more
like a large open space than a room. This room's only other decor is the metal toilet and sink/drinking fountain in one of the corners of this oh so lovely holding cell.

Four women sit on benches that are bolted to the floor. From a quick glance it appears the holding cell could seat eight to ten prisoners. The
women turn to gawk at me in amazement when the entry door slides open and a boy with no clothes on is brought into their cell. A quick glance
at their faces showed a medley of feminine types:

One older black woman with a curly blond hair, or maybe it's a cheap wig.

One young Latina, who is very pretty and very slender.

One fat, or maybe I should say "Big Boned" white woman wearing a garage mechanic uniform.

One teenage delinquent in goth style makeup and black clothes.

I hear laughter as Officer Fratello pushes me into the holding cell. I don't know if all of them are laughing. I stared at the floor. I must have
been trying to hold back, cause the officer gave me a second push, "Get moving Bannister before I bust your behind." I want to keep staring
at my feet, but the need to know what's around me causes me to raise my head up to look around.

The plus sized white woman speaks up first, "If that's a girl she's got one hell of a big clitty, but she ain't got no titty."

From what the fat mechanic was saying, I only understood half of the sentence. I didn't know nothin about big clitty, but if that hefty sized
woman had one I didn't want to see it.

The second one to speak is the hot Latina, "I don't think that there is a chica. Are they running out of room on the other side for the drunks
and the punks?"

The black woman comments next, "Now I seen everything. A nekkid boy brought in by the jailer, and a cute one at that. I must have died and
gone to heaven."

The one who didn't say anything was the white gothy teenager with black eyeshadow and shiny metalic studs in her ears, three or four of them on each ear along with the eyebrows having a very noticeable pointy spike sticking through them. There's no way she'd be able to get her face past
an airport metal detector.

To my surprise Officer Fratello closes the door behind me. I whirl around, shocked that the cuffs on my wrists weren't removed. The door slides shut with a loud clang.

"What did he get arrested for?" the young Hispanic chic wants to know.

"Isn't it obvious?" Officer Fratello shouts back, and she turns to walk away.

I hear the soft clack clack of Officer Fratello's shoes for only a couple seconds before a chorus of laughter drowns them out. It does sound like
all four women are enjoying the sight of their unexpected guest. The officer goes back to the main lobby of the building. The ugly dude
who stands guard (who has a bushy mustache in need of trimming, and a beer belly that needs a size larger uniform) stays within hearing range
but stands far enough from the bars to have the pretense of appearing to be disinterested. The women must have been used to his presence,
cause they said all sorts of things and didn't mind whether or not the guard heard them. I wanted to shout out after Officer Fratello, to beg and plead not be left behind in this cell. My throat is dry, but I could shout out if I could...but I was too scared to even try.

"We got us a nudie juvie for heaven's sake," the black woman mirthfully says. "And they didn't even take his cuffs off."

"The cops must think that young dude would mess with us if he had his hands free. He looks so scared he'd piss his pants...if he had pants on,"
and the large white woman stands up, makes a couple steps toward me. "I think the poor boy need some comforting. I bet he needs his momma.
Well, I'm the closest thing here to a momma that boy is gonna get. Come here you pretty thing. Let your prison momma make you feel right at home."