I had only gone a few blocks when I thought to cross an intersection against the light. A policeman saw me and took me by the collar of my shirt and applied a stern warning with his nightstick to my cut off jeans covered rear.

Then I bumped a prominent citizen who turned me over a trash can to bare my ass for all to see and spanked me as if I were a little girl. I squirmed and wailed like a little girl, then when done, I apologized for my indiscretion but peed onto my jeans lying on the sidewalk.

A street sweeper saw me 'littering' and made it his duty to push my head down into the trash container where I had to smell my jeans as he tore off my panties and chastised my buns with the brush off his broom, using both the hard wooden side and then coarse brush side. He let me up to rub my increased reddened bottom with a multitude of even redder dots from the brush tips.

But I went on down Front street without clothing between shirt and socks. A man approached and asked for directions and I told him where he could go. Then I smelled something burning and looked down to see his cigarette burning my bush. He very nicely put it out with several swats of his rolled up city map.

I turned down Market street where vendors had put up their booths. I paused at one to admire the fruit but the owner said I was trying to steal his oranges. He tore off my shirt but only my breasts fell out of my bra, which he thoroughly examined for 'ripeness'. Evidently I passed the test but left without any upper clothing.

At an alley way a man opened his coat and offered me a panty from an inside pocket. I refused but he took hold of my breasts and shoved me behind a dump bin and stole my new sneakers.

I thought I should go home but as I left the alley I bumped a slow moving man. Miraculously he managed to strike my breasts several times with his blind man's cane.

Another man came to my rescue I thought but only to drool and snap rubber bands onto my chest. I quick marched away with sausages on my chest, well banded, and growing a deeper purple with each step.

I turned the corner and stepped in between the fishmonger and his son who were tossing a salmon onto their outdoor display. The poor fish collided with my sausages and a band popped off. The two men stared at the result and quickly began to smack my chest with more fish, popping another band off each time. They continued as I staggered backwards up the street even though all the bands had come off.

And I bumped into an elderly woman who was so enraged by my appearance that she shoved her parasol up my ass. Walking now was quite painful and I wanted to sit down and saw the movie theatre. But it was showing Truffaut's "The 400 Blows" and I figured I had already passed that number already.

I stood on the corner waiting to cross when the jack-of-all-tradesman passed by in his old pickup filled with junk and trash, all held down by various chains. One came loose and flew out wrapping around my neck. I was yanked out behind the truck, twisting and choking as he made every damn green light on his way out to the dump. I bounced on the hard concrete pavement, first breasts down, then ass down, the handle of the parasol breaking off.

He turned the corner nearest to my apartment and the chain finally slid off and I rolled across the street. In time for two skateboarders to decide to try their skills using my face down body as a ramp. The first one successfully launched himself off my back causing me to roll over. I felt the wheels of the second skateboard bounce off my breasts and heard their laughter as they went on.

I crawled to my door, remembered where I had a hidden key and went inside to my sofa to pull the parasol out of my ass and massage my well worked over breasts.

Then the landlord came in demanding the rent and I paid him with my still open asshole. As he departed he said he was cutting off the cable TV until I paid in cash. I turned on the TV to the only station I could get but it was running a "Bloodsucking Freaks" marathon with all the sequels: Return of Sardu, Revenge of Sardu, Bride of Sardu, and Sardu in the Land of the Yik-Yak.

Well, the Internet still worked and there I found the GIMP Forum.