Message-ID: <60352asstr$1276380601@assm.asstr.org>
From: Don Daverse <dondaverse@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} A 'Routine' Enslavement - Chapter 27 - 31
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Date: Sat, 12 Jun 2010 18:10:01 -0400
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SYNOPSIS

   This is a fantasy of a future society featuring indentured servitude and
legalized slavery.  It is a story of a man who has devoted his life to the
business of enslaving insolvent female debtors, and a young professional
woman who struggles to avoid becoming his next victim.

   STORY CODES: slavery, rape, non consensual, voyeurism, bondage, mind
control, M+/F.




   

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Chapter 27.  Masterson's Proposition

   The next morning my secretary advised me Greg Masterson was on the line.
When I picked up he greeted me warmly and said he had a business
proposition for me and would I be free for lunch that day?  I was intrigued
and readily agreed, quickly rescheduling another appointment.  With
Masterson it was best to accommodate to his schedule.

   I arrived at his favorite restaurant on the Upper East Side near Central
Park.  It was the same restaurant where I had my original fateful meeting
with him to plead Stephanie's case.  This time I took a GPS guided
robo-taxi.  It was not lost on me that such a vehicle probably would not
have been possible without the sophisticated collision avoidance system
pioneered by none other than the man I was meeting for lunch.  As I
approached the front door of the restaurant I remembered that I had walked
to this restaurant for the earlier meeting and had encountered quite a
protest demonstration on the way.

   This time the maitre d' recognized me at once.

   "Ah, Mr.  Steelforth", he began, "Mr.  Masterson has just called to say
he is on his way and has asked me to seat you at his favorite table where
you might enjoy a glass of wine while you are waiting."

   "That would be fine, I am sure."

   "Before I seat you", he continued, "I must ask your preference for the
sex, race and age of your server.  Also you may specify his or her physical
type."

   "Physical type?" I queried.

   "Yes, Mr.  Steelforth.  Let me show you our menu of servers currently
available and you can select one from the photos."

   He handed me a leather bound folder and inside there were photos and
descriptions of the various servers.  Each photo with its accompanying
description was inserted into a pocket inside the folder.  This enabled the
maitre d' to update the folder as different waiters and waitresses came on
or off duty.  I looked through the folder and was struck by the variety of
different physiques on offer - ranging from voluptuous to athletic to thin.
My eye was drawn to a very attractive and slender young black twenty
something woman who was pictured in a black vest, a modest white blouse and
a full-length form fitting black skirt that ended at mid calf.  I noted
also that she wore black nylons and black high-heeled shoes.

   "I would like to be served by that one!" I said, pointing to the photo
of the one that struck my fancy.

   "Excellent choice, sir!  Shawna has been with us for three years now and
is one of the most often requested by regular customers.  She will be
assigned exclusively to yourself and Mr.  Masterson for the duration of
your dining experience with us.  You do have one other choice to make, Mr.
Steelforth.  It concerns her mode of dress while serving you.  We can offer
you some limited options in this area consistent with our desire to
maintain decorum."

   "What are my choices?"

   "You can choose a blouse style that is long sleeved and modest with a
high neckline, like the one you saw in her picture, or a sleeveless
shoulder baring style, or a short sleeve one with a plunging neckline, or a
short sleeve one that is midriff baring.  You may also choose the length of
her skirt."

   I had always had a thing for seeing the well defined shoulders and
collarbone area of a slender woman.  Also I was more of a leg man than a
breast man.  I made my desires known accordingly.

   "I would like her to wear the micro skirt together with the vest and the
sleeveless shoulder baring blouse."

   "Excellent choice, sir!"

   With that he led me back to Greg Masterson's favorite table in a
somewhat secluded rear alcove.  A drink waiter shortly appeared.  I saw
that he was tall and slender and attired in a white ruffled shirt w bowtie,
black vest, and full length black slacks that fit him like a second skin -
leaving little to the imagination.

   "The waitress you selected", he began, "is now donning the clothing you
selected for her sir.  In the meantime perhaps you would like to order a
drink sir?"

   I ordered a glass of Merlot, dismissed him and turned on the small TV
monitor in the alcove near the table.  I had been enjoying my wine and idly
watching the news of the day for perhaps ten minutes when Greg joined me.

   "Bill, I apologize for the delay and I am so glad you could meet with me
on such short notice."

   "Not a problem Greg."

   Just then our tall drink waiter returned and Greg, following my example,
ordered a Merlot.

   Our attention was then drawn to a news announcement from one of the
local New York City stations.

   "Word just in that Robert Dexter, well known to our listeners as the
owner of Dexter Pharmaceuticals, has failed his annual citizenship
examinations twice.  Sources at the Citizenship Bureau advise that he will
now forfeit his standing as a citizen of Capitallia and as a citizen of New
York State.  He is eligible to reapply in two years time, but in the
meantime, as a non-citizen, he is no longer able to own the business he
founded, nor can he maintain ownership of the 10 million dollar mansion he
maintains in the Hamptons.  Mr.  Dexter's stock in the corporation and his
home will go up for auction a week from next Monday.  Dexter
Pharmaceuticals has been placed in temporary receivership until such time
as a new owner can take over control of the business."

   "In other news today ..."

   I remembered a much younger Robert Dexter from one of the slavery
conferences twenty years ago.  He had been a passionate advocate for full
chattel slavery and helped to pass the legislation we now operated under.

   "They will probably let him continue to manage the business as a
salaried CEO", Masterson remarked.  "He can still make a good living as a
salaried manager.  Maybe one of his friends will buy his home and lease it
back to him for the next couple of years.  While he can no longer own
Dexter Pharmaceuticals, the court appointed receiver must sell his stock at
a fair price and award him the proceeds.  So he won't be bankrupted by
this. If he uses his time wisely he may be able to ace those exams when he
comes up for citizenship review in two more years."

   Our attention was then drawn to other news from the Chinese government.

   "They have just announced", the newscaster intoned, "that they will be
the third country in the contemporary world to legalize chattel slavery. 
The 'Chinese Capitalist Party' - what used to be called the 'Chinese
Communist Party', made the decision.  While they have forsaken communism in
favor of capitalism, they have not forsaken the autocratic rule that
Communism brought in 1949."

   "Does this mean you will be building a plant in China now?" I asked.

   "Hardly.  The Chinese version of slavery is likely to be very brutal
indeed.  They will have few of the refinements or safeguards that have
evolved in our society of limited franchise democracy.  I would not want to
be involved, or have my managers operating, in an environment of
enslavement of political dissidents and the brutal practices they will
follow.  Perhaps in another twenty years their system will evolve into
something that would be compatible with Western sensibilities.  But that is
not for now."

   "What then?" I responded.  "Are there other parts of the world that
might be more promising for expansion of your business interests?"

   "Ah yes!  That is one of the things I wanted to talk about.  The second
country in the world to legalize chattel slavery is Brazil.  That was just
two weeks ago.  Perhaps you have heard something of that?"

   "Yes indeed", I replied.

   Just then the very leggy black waitress that I had earlier selected
approached our table, presented Greg with his drink, and asked about our
lunch orders.  She was sexier than I could have hoped for with her delicate
and well defined shoulders bared and her attractive nylon clad legs on
display almost up to her crotch.  Masterson indicated he would have the
Salmon with the Mornay sauce, steamed asparagus au gratin, and a salad.  I
indicated I would have the same and Masterson dismissed her.  .  I did not
miss the opportunity to gaze with awe at her long slender legs as she
turned away in her high heels.

   "Now you might say why Brazil?" he continued.  Many countries who have
been traditional allies of the U.S.  have been watching our Capitallian
experiment and looking to see if their economies and their penal systems
could be improved by following our example.  The problem is that most of
these countries are now 'social democracies'.  They have adopted the
socialist model with cradle to grave security for all their citizens.  They
are also very egalitarian."

   "How does this factor into their decisions about slavery?" I asked.

   "The overwhelming majority of people in these countries believe in a
strong social safety net.  They also believe no one person should be
allowed to have that much more than what can be guaranteed to all.  They
have highly confiscatory taxation schemes.  So the idea of one person being
allowed to actually own another person is not something most of these
people can ever accept."

   "So how was it different in Brazil?" I wanted to know.

   "Brazil certainly has a stronger democratic tradition than China" he
replied.  "But it is more of an elitist democracy where there have long
been great extremes of wealth and poverty.  There is, in effect, a ruling
class in Brazil that concentrates governing power more than in the European
social democracies.  I think this is why the idea of one human being owning
another is more acceptable there."

   "Will this affect your business prospects in that country?"

   "In time, yes.  And I may eventually have need of your services there."

   "Greg, there is another matter I would like to bring up.  You recall
Stephanie asked you at our meeting if you would look into the possibility
of improving the situation of the dancer, Jennifer Maisten.  I would like
to be able to tell her something."

   "There is a problem with that, though perhaps not an insurmountable
one."

   "What is the problem?" I asked.

   "Jennifer is a criminal slave" he responded.  "She was convicted in a
private prosecution by the ballet company for embezzling funds.  The ballet
company, as the successful private prosecutor, and as the victim of her
crime, was given the usual prerogative by the Court of defining her
sentence within the statutory guidelines.  So even though they subsequently
sold her to me, I am still bound by the terms of her original sentence."

   "What does her sentence require?" I pressed.

   "Her sentence requires that she be treated under all the usual
conditions of penal slavery which specifically includes, in her case,
constant nudity, a 60 hour work week, and that she be forced to have non
consensual sexual encounters at least twenty times per month on average,
that she be subject to humiliating working conditions and so on.  The
sentence also requires that we send her over to a public whipping service
once every six months where she is lightly whipped on her bare buttocks in
front of interested spectators.  My HR department is tasked with making
sure she suffers all these punitive conditions in fulfillment of the
sentence.  HR also arranges for her to have cutting edge medical treatments
after each whipping so she recovers fast and can do her work at the ballet
company."

   "Greg, is there nothing that can be done?"

   "I do not have it within my personal power to set her free or to modify
the harsh terms of her sentence.  The only thing I do have the power to do
would be to sell her to a new owner and that new owner would also have to
fulfill the degrading terms of her sentence."

   "But you gave Stephanie your word you would try to help Jennifer's
situation!" I blurted out.

   "And I am a man of my word.  There is hope for Jennifer but it will take
time and require a process of persuasion.  It is the Board of Directors of
the National Ballet of Capitallia that has the power to set her free,
modify the terms of her sentence, or possibly release her on parole."

   "How are they to be persuaded?" I responded.

   "My suggestion is that you, Bill, are in the best position to bring all
this about.  Use your influence with the ballet company to see what can be
done.  From what I hear you have been a generous financial contributor to
the ballet over the years and I think they may listen to our plea if you
are the one to present it.  If they agree I will, of course, need to be
compensated for the loss of my slave.  I did buy her in good faith after
all.  See what you can do!"

   "I will certainly give it my best efforts", I replied.

   "I would like to move on", he remarked, "to why I called for our meeting
today.  I have a rather pressing problem.  You may recall from our earlier
meeting that there was quite a bit of protest in the park over the creation
of a Federal Labor Board with authority to limit the total number of jobs
available to free persons in this nation.  Those protesters organized a
boycott of all fresh produce in New York City.  Some subsisted on canned
goods alone.  Others started growing their own fruits and vegetables
through cooperatives."

   Just then our waitress brought our lunch orders.  The food looked very
appetizing indeed.

   "When I first heard about that on the news", I replied, "I thought how
much purchasing power could a bunch of unemployed people have?  I was in
for quite a surprise when I learned it wasn't just the unemployed.  They
got as much as a third of the whole number of non-citizens to participate
in the boycott.  Even those who had jobs realized that their situation was
precarious.  Tons of produce spoiled causing losses in New York City alone
that, for one six month period, approached a billion dollars!"

   "That did get the attention of the legislators!" he rejoined.  "Not only
that but Capitallians for the Constitution mounted a legal challenge to the
Federal Labor Board.  They said Congress had overstepped its bounds in
passing such a law since regulating wages and employment in Capitallia was
not one of the enumerated powers granted the Federal Government, hence such
a law would be unconstitutional under the Tenth Amendment.  The legal
challenge had gotten as far as the Federal Appeals Court when Congress
decided to reconsider the law that created the Federal Labor Board.

   "I remember reading about that about six months ago.  "

   "By the time Congress decided to reconsider the law establishing the
Federal Labor Board it was discovered that law had been spearheaded by a
bunch of legislators who may actually have had a hidden agenda to sabotage
Capitallia's economy.  These legislators knew that many shortsighted
businessmen would think their proposal great because it would hold down
labor costs - at least in the short run.  So they were able to get many
members of the EFP, which generally represents the business community, to
go along with this scheme and enact the law.  Unfortunately these
representatives failed to take into account that the talent pool would
eventually dry up because students could not get financing to train for
such unrewarding jobs."

   "But why would any group of legislators engage in a conspiracy to
sabotage Capitallia?" I asked incredulously.

   "Because some of them had a vision for a different kind of society they
hoped would take hold once Capitallia fell.  Their dream was to create a
socialist utopia - the same foolish dream that has caused so much human
misery in the twentieth century.  Their stated vision was for a society in
which all would be equal - not only in opportunities but in actual results
as well.  From each according to his abilities, to each according to his
needs.  But in such utopias, as George Orwell once pointed out so
eloquently, "some are always more equal."

   "How were these legislators with their hidden agenda found out?" I was
eager to learn.

   "I'm afraid that is where the trail must end for now.  There is much
about all this that is still highly classified information.  We may not
know the whole story for another ten or twenty years.  I have heard rumors
that an ex military man named Hank Dalton played a key role in all this and
that the now classified project was code-named "Conspiracy of Dreams".

   "Fascinating" I said.  "But how is all of this going to affect your
business, Greg?"

   "My company, like so many other firms, in compliance with the now
repealed law, had gradually reduced the numbers of free employees we had
and replaced them with slaves and indentured servants.  Now we are faced
with a new mandate.  Regulation of employment numbers has now passed from
the feds to the states."

   "So how is that a new mandate?" I asked.  "The state agencies will just
continue the old federal policy of limiting jobs won't they?"

   "Quite the opposite, Bill.  Most states are interested in expanding job
opportunities for citizens and free legal residents, even if it means
companies like mine must greatly reduce the number of slaves and indentured
people we use."

   "You see Bill, we do most of our business in New York, Massachusetts and
California.  All three of these states are in the process of setting up
what they are pleased to call "Full Employment Agencies".  We will now be
under pressure, in all the states where we do business, to increase the
proportion of our work force that is called "Class A Labor".  That would be
citizens and free legal residents.  They have another category called
"Class B Labor" that consists of immigrant labor, indentured servants and
slaves.  We have to reduce the proportion of that kind of labor we use in
order to make more Class A jobs.  They are expected to give us a
transitional period of at least five years to get our labor ratios into
line with the new standards."

   "In other words, Bill, we will be pushed in the opposite direction from
what we were experiencing under the now extinct Federal Labor Board.  If
this program succeeds it will reduce unemployment to something close to
zero.  In theory everyone who wants a job will be able to get one - within
the limits of his or her training and abilities."

   "But that will mean higher wage demands won't it?" I said.  "And more
bargaining power for employees to negotiate terms and conditions of
employment.  Doesn't that concern you?"

   "Yes and no.  In the short run higher wages are costs I will have to
absorb.  But if my competitors also have to pay these higher wages then I
will not be placed at a disadvantage.  And there will be a real long term
benefit!"

   "What's that?" I asked, somewhat surprised.

   "The higher wages and better working conditions will create an ever
expanding pool of high quality labor over the longer run.  More students
will be willing to undertake the long training required for many of our
occupations.  And more banks will be willing to lend them tuition money,
confident their earnings will be sufficient to repay such loans."

   We had just finished our lunches and our leggy waitress inquired if we
wished to order desserts.  We decided to just have coffees.

   "I see your point", I said.  "But this can't be good for the slaving
business" I sighed.  I was more worried than I wanted to let him see.

   "Not necessarily" he replied.  "There is more than one way to look at
these things.  There will now be many companies that need to divest their
slaves and they will need help marketing those slaves to other firms.  In
fact, I need such help.  That is the purpose of my inviting you here
today!"

   "Who will buy all the indentured servants you and others will be letting
go?" I wondered aloud.

   "In many industries the possibilities for using slave or indentured
labor has never been fully explored because the price of slaves and
servants was too high.  Now there will be a general fall in the price of
slaves at the same time average wage levels for free employees will be
rising.  That means many firms that never used slave labor before will now
be able to afford to do so.  "

   "I see your point," I said, feeling less discouraged than I had a moment
before.

   "Why don't you think through what slave marketing services you might be
able to provide and shoot over a proposal to me?  Then, if we are in
accord, we will have a follow-up meeting to finalize an arrangement."

   "Sounds good to me", I remarked.

   With that we finished our coffees, left the restaurant and went our
separate ways.

   That evening I dropped by Stephanie's place to update her on all the
research I had done concerning the Henderson Trauma Clinic.  Because of all
the symptoms of post traumatic stress she had experienced, she was ready to
consider it.  I gave her Dr.  Henderson's phone number and she promised to
call him in the morning and arrange for a preliminary interview.







   Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.

   Note: If you are enjoying this story author would appreciate feedback to
dondaverse (at)

   yahoo (dot) com.
   

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Chapter 28.  Stephanie's Law

   When I returned to my office after the meeting with Masterson I found an
intriguing note from my secretary that a Mr.  Roger Medrock, President of a
Boston firm called Prostitution Services Unlimited (PSU), had called
earlier, wanting to discuss a business proposition.  He had indicated that
he hoped to hear from me this evening and that I might call up to 9 pm. 
Soon I had connected with him.

   "We have a proposal we would like to put in front of you Mr. 
Steelforth", he said "that could double your gross receipts in the coming
year!  We would like you to come to Boston at our expense to discuss the
matter.  Could you catch the late mag-lev train tonight and be in our
offices tomorrow morning?"

   "Of course, I will clear my calendar." I found myself saying.

   I had heard of PSU and knew that they ran one of the largest 'slave
brothel' operations on the east coast, employing several thousand male and
female indentured servants as unpaid prostitutes and perhaps as many as a
hundred chattel slaves.  If they wanted to use my firm to supply their
ongoing needs for indentured servants - well - that could prove quite
lucrative for my partner and for me.

   By 10 pm I found myself boarding the maglev with a hastily packed
overnight bag.  It was only a one-hour high-speed train ride from New York
City to Boston now.  Soon I was enjoying a drink in the club car when I
became aware of a news report on the large screen.

   Marge and Harry, well known newscasters on the 10 pm segment of this
national news network, were having an on-air discussion on a new bill that
had just passed the House of Representatives.  The new bill was being
referred to as 'Stephanie's Law' because Stephanie's unfortunate
experiences had received so much publicity that it became the rallying cry
for those who wanted reforms in our indentured servitude laws.

   "Apparently," Marge continued, "the proposed national law, known as
'Stephanie's Law', provides a uniform definition of what is an "indentured
servant".  This will replace a patchwork of state court decisions on the
meaning of "indentured service".

   "Yes," Harry replied, "in many places there was little distinction
between indentured service and complete chattel slavery - either because
the state laws were not clear or because employers took advantage of
inadequate enforcement of existing laws."

   I was more or less aware of what the content of the proposed law was to
be.  What was news to me was that it had actually passed the House - the
first step on its way to the Senate and ultimately for the President of
Capitallia to sign into law.

   "Indentured servitude", Harry continued, "will now be limited to a 40
hour workweek with the indentured person free to have a private life
outside of working hours"

   "One of the most interesting features of the new law", Marge continued,
"is that most indentures for simple debt will not require sexual service of
the indentured person, unless he or she agrees to that as part of a plea
bargain, or unless the court determines that the debt can be worked off in
no other manner."

   "Does that mean", Harry rejoined, "that in the future a young woman like
the famous Stephanie, who has an established skill or profession, can only
be required to work off her debt by practicing her profession?"

   "That is exactly what it means!" Marge responded.  "Not only that but a
person facing the possibility of being indentured for a term longer than
two years is entitled to a complete court appointed defense team at public
expense if they cannot afford one otherwise.  This would include an
attorney, but also, if need be, an investigator, jury consultant, and all
expenses incidental to the defense!  That should make unjust indentures
like Stephanie's very unlikely in the future.  She got convicted because
her defense team did not have the resources to properly defend her!"

   I began to wonder how I was going to explain all these new requirements
to my prospective client in the meeting tomorrow morning.

   "Another point our viewers may be interested in", Harry interjected "is
that the Congress has responded to all the protest activity concerning the
Federal Labor Board.  Our viewers may recall that there were demonstrations
last summer and boycotts of fresh produce in major cities.  The
demonstrators had complained that the Labor Board was rationing jobs in
such a way as to create a permanent underclass of unemployed workers.  This
long term unemployed population, in turn, could not pay their bills and
wound up being indentured for debt.  This was part of the problem leading
up to Stephanie's indenture.  There were demands that the Labor Board be
abolished."

   "But these ...  'demonstrators' as you call them - they were not
citizens and so had no vote", Marge countered.  "Did they get their main
demand in spite of that?"

   "Yes, actually!  It was a strange coalition of Civil Rights Party types
concerned about worker's rights combined with a major chunk of the Economic
Freedom Party concerned that government was meddling too much in the
economy and playing favorites with various industries.  One of the
provisions of 'Stephanie's Law' is that the Labor Board is abolished and
there will be no more rationing of jobs."

   "Does that mean that prevailing wages can now go sky high when the
economy is booming and the unemployment rate is very low?" Marge inquired
of her co-anchor.

   "Not quite", Harry responded.  "Congress has now authorized the
Department of Immigration to grant green cards to immigrants who would
bring to Capitallia any skills that are in short supply here or grant such
cards to would be immigrants who would be willing to enter training
indentures to learn those skills and live and work in Capitallia upon
completion of their training."

   "So the bottom line", Marge continued, "is that employers can create
more jobs and the economic pressures on the unemployed have been lessened
and there are now more procedural safeguards to prevent unjust indentures."

   "Quite so", Harry responded.

   "In other news today it was reported that a Tim O'Malley, owner of a
chain of nudie pole dancing bars, lost his citizenship.  It seems Mr. 
O'Malley neglected to pay the annual citizenship tax two years running. 
Since he is now a non-citizen he can no longer own the O'Malley Nudie Bar
chain, nor can he own slaves.  His shares of stock in the business as well
as the slaves he owned will be put up for auction on the first business day
of next month."

   Now this interested me personally.  O'Malley owned the ballerina
Vivienne Morentzy.  She had been one of his pole dancers until I went to
see him and persuaded him to lease her to the ballet company.  I would have
to make a point of attending the auction of his properties.  I had fucked
Vivienne on several occasions and I sure wouldn't mind owning her!

   Moreover this was yet another example, along with Robert Dexter's loss
of citizenship, that there was no permanent upper caste in Capitallia. 
Rather the citizen class was constantly being refreshed by the fall of
citizens who weren't living up to their obligations and by the rise of new
talent newly admitted to citizenship.

   I drifted off to sleep after a while.  Soon we were in Boston and I took
a cab to my hotel and checked in very tired for a sound night's sleep.

  
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   In the morning, promptly at 9 am, I presented myself at the offices of
Prostitution Services Unlimited.  An attractive young secretary greeted me
and informed me that Mr.  Medrock would be tied up on a conference call for
about half an hour, but had requested his Sales Director, Ben Hardley, to
give me a tour.  She buzzed for him and soon he was leading me around their
facilities.

   "First, we cater to both men and women", Ben began as he led me down the
main corridor, "and we offer both male and female prostitutes to meet every
taste.  We have over 1000 indentured male prostitutes and over 9,000
indentured female prostitutes.  They are all in our custody to work off
their debts.  We provide them the very best in medical care and many fringe
benefits, but of course we pay no salary or other cash income to any of
them."

   "A client coming to us for pleasure is first interviewed in a private
room by an attractive and socially adept hostess", he continued, leading me
into an elevator.  "She will try, by skillful questioning, to get a general
idea of the type of girl or guy a client desires for a sexual experience.
Using a computer display she will show the male or female client video
clips of different physical types and different personality types to narrow
down his or her general range of preferences.  Then she will select, from
those currently available and not serving other clients, ten likely
candidates.  These will be presented to the client as a group for his
selection."

   "At this point some clients, the more cerebral types, will prefer to
narrow their selection by interviewing the ten candidates until they find
one that really turns them on.  But we also get clients that prefer a
method of selection that is both more physical and more impulsive.  For
them we provide a lineup of the ten prostitutes, all restrained and ready
for immediate oral sex use.  Here, let me show you how that works!"

   Just then we emerged from the elevator, walked a short way down another
hall, and he then led me into a room with plush carpeting, lots of drapery
and soft music playing in the background.  What startled me was that there
was, all along one wall of this room, a row of ten very attractive naked
women plus two additional stations where curtains were drawn and from which
sucking and other noises could be heard.  It was fairly obvious that
patrons were taking their pleasure with two of the ladies behind the drawn
curtains.

   Of the ten not currently engaged there were a variety of physical types
ranging from a couple of voluptuous large breasted women to some very
muscular ones to some rather delicate thin types.  Each of these women was
on her knees with her thighs vertical, her ankles secured to floor gives,
had her hands cuffed behind her, and had her neck yoked in a stiff leather
collar which was at the end of a three foot long steel rod linking the
collar to a stanchion on the wall.  Several diagonal steel braces
stabilized the steel rod so that the collar encircling each woman's neck
was not free to move in any direction.  Each woman was held with her neck
immobilized three feet out from the wall.

   This reminded me of the way the shoplifter had been immobilized the
other night for my pleasure.  Only that it was being done not to a single
woman but to a whole group of women.  And, as with the shoplifter, each
woman appeared to have some device in her mouth that prevented her from
closing her teeth!

   "We call this 'Fellatio Row' ", he said.

   "Are these penal slaves then?" I asked.

   "No indeed Mr.  Steelforth!  They are all women indentured for debt who
have committed no crime at all!"

   "How is that possible?" I inquired.

   "I would prefer to let my boss explain that part to you after we finish
the tour." He slyly responded.  "In the meanwhile if you would like some
pleasure pick any of these women that might appeal to you and make use of
her.  You can pull out those red velour curtains on their tracks for
privacy while you enjoy her!"

   "Sorry but I'm not feeling very randy at the moment, but I am eager to
see the rest of what you wanted to show me on this tour!" I responded.  I
was disturbed by the apparently unethical treatment of these women, but
thought it best to respond in a tactful manner until I had a more complete
picture of their operations.

   "Very well Mr.  Steelforth.  I understand your reluctance to indulge at
the moment.  Let us proceed to the next floor up"

   Again we boarded the elevator and were soon stepping out into another
corridor.

   "There are two types of prostitutes that are in highest demand", Mr. 
Hardley continued.  "One type is ultra submissive and highly obedient and
believes that he or she has absolutely no rights of any kind, and even
takes delight in the perception of his or her own rightlessness in the face
of our demands and the demands of the clients.  The legal reality is that
our indentured servants do have rights that are enforced by slave advocates
but we mind control many of these indentured persons into believing that
they have no rights.  This makes for a more delicious experience for the
client.  But sometimes a picture is worth 1000 words!"

   So saying he led me into another room.  There I saw a naked young man
who might have been twenty years old.  He was athletic of build and
kneeling with his torso upright and with his buttocks resting on his
ankles. He was not restrained in any way, but was facing us with his knees
wide apart, and his head hanging as if in shame.  I observed that his pubic
hair was a dark brown like the hair on his head and that his penis was
flaccid, his ball sack hanging loosely.

   "You may look up now Andy, and greet your visitor!" Hardley commanded
the dejected youth.

   The one called Andy proceeded to raise his gaze and make eye contact
with me, and gave me a smile I thought somewhat curious under the
circumstances.

   "Tell us, Andy, about all the rights you enjoy here at Prostitution
Services Unlimited!"

   "You well know Mr.  Hardley, that I have no rights here at all!  I must
do whatever I am commanded to do with any client, no matter if it is
dangerous, painful or humiliating!"

   "Andy, perhaps you will show us what you mean.  My shoes are a bit muddy
as I recently came in from the parking lot."

   So saying Mr.  Hardley walked toward Andy and took up a position about
three feet in front of him.

   "Now I would like you to clean my shoes Andy, using only your tongue!"

   I watched, amazed, as Andy first prostrated himself on the floor and
then brought his tongue into contact with Hardley's shoes, licking
vigorously, frequently looking up at Hardley like a puppy looking for
approval.  I was impressed with the overall muscularity of this slender
youth and, although I have no homosexual desires, could see a certain
eroticism in the lad's well-formed buttocks.  Mud would accumulate on the
tip of his tongue and he would have to stop frequently, struggle to make
saliva, and swallow in order to keep his tongue clean enough to continue
the work.  After about ten minutes he had finished one shoe.

   "That will be enough Andy.  You may rise to a sitting position now, as
you were before."

   Andy sat up again with his torso vertical and his buttocks resting on
his ankles.  The muscularity of his shoulders and arms was quite striking
as was his flat and toned six pack abdomen.  I was astounded to see that
his penis was now quite erect and that there was some pre-ejaculate oozing
from the tip of it.  I examine naked slaves for a living but had seldom
seen so attractive a male physique or so attractive a penis.

   "I see that you have taken note of the state of Andy's dick.  What you
are seeing is testimony to the fact that Andy is sexually excited by being
degraded, by being reminded in a very graphic way that he has no rights
here."

   If I needed any further confirmation of Andy's aroused state I could see
it in the fact that the lad's scrotum had pulled his testicles up close to
his body.

   Mr.  Hardley then reached down, briefly lifted the dick, and gathered
some of Andy's secretions on a fingertip, then presented that finger to
Andy to clean with his mouth.  Andy quickly admitted the finger inside his
mouth and began to wash it with his lips and tongue.  All the while his
penis remained erect.  Hardley briefly fondled the lad's face and chucked
him under the chin as one might a dog.

   "I think you have seen enough here Mr.  Steelforth.  Let us proceed to
our next station."

   At these words Andy's cock quickly became flaccid and I saw a tear roll
down his face.  I had the distinct impression that the youth lived for the
approval of his superiors and could hardly bear it when they were not
making demands on him.

   We stepped out into the corridor again and soon entered another room. 
Here we found a slender and physically fit young woman who was perhaps as
young as 18.  She was kneeling erect with her buttocks resting on her
ankles, much as the young man had been when we entered his room.  She wore
a corset of some kind that encased her upper torso.  She was naked from the
waist down.  She faced us with her knees wide apart and her head hanging as
if in shame.  Her pubic hair was blonde like the hair on her head.  I could
not see more detail than that between her legs while she remained in that
position.

   "You may look up now, Barbara, and greet your visitor", Hardley said to
her.

   She raised her head and made eye contact with me, giving a sly smile
much as Andy had done.

   "Tell us, Barbara, about all the rights you enjoy here at Prostitution
Services Unlimited."

   "I have none sir, and I wouldn't have it any other way sir!"

   With that Hardley bade me walk over to the corner of the room where
there was an old elevator shaft, no longer in use.  There were no doors to
the shaft, only a waist high railing, and one could look down the shaft by
leaning slightly over the rail.  It appeared that we were on the tenth
floor and that the shaft extended well into the basement of the building.

   "Are you highly obedient, Barbara?  Would you do anything at all that
you are commanded to do?"

   "Of course sir!  That is what I am for!"

   "Show us girl!  Run right over to that elevator shaft, climb over the
rail and jump to your death!"

   She ran over, looked over the edge, and began to shake with fear.  I
could see all her muscles trembling with the fear of what she had been
asked to do.  I could see sweat pouring down her back.  Her face was white.
Then, amazingly, she slowly climbed over the railing and jumped!  I could
not believe my eyes!  I heard her scream and her scream began to sound
further and further away as she accelerated in her descent.  Surely this
was the worst kind of slave abuse!

   But after a few seconds her screams didn't seem to get any farther away.
I rushed over to look down the shaft.  She appeared suspended about half
way down.  Just then the cab of the elevator, which had been at the bottom
of the shaft began to move up until it could lift her back up to our level.
Hardley reached out and pulled her back into the room.  She was shaking
life a leaf in the wind and immediately collapsed unconscious at our feet.

   "What saved her?" I asked.

   "That corset you noted earlier is made of magnetic metal.  About half
way down the shaft is a huge electromagnet whose magnetic field interacts
with her corset to provide deceleration and eventually supports her
magnetically in midair.  That is why she did not fall all the way down to
her death.  The whole point of this demonstration is to show that she is
absolutely obedient, no matter her fear or the danger she faces.  Yet I
will tell you that she has made that jump quite a few times before!"

   "Yet she seemed genuinely afraid for her life!" I objected.  "That seems
strange.  You might think she would have learned from earlier jumps that
she is always saved by the magnet!"

   "The answer, Mr.  Steelforth, is that after each jump we wipe her mind
of all knowledge of the jump so we can test her obedience again on another
day when she will have the same level of fear all over again!"

   At this point he walked over to the prone girl and began to shake her
awake.  Soon he had her standing somewhat shakily on her feet.

   "Thank you sirs for letting me demonstrate my obedience.  How is it that
I am still alive?"

   "Don't you concern yourself with such details.  The important thing is
that you obeyed.  Soon you will have forgotten all about this", he replied.

   "Let us proceed to our next demonstration", he continued, leading me out
of this room and down the hall to yet another room.

   "You mentioned that there were two types of prostitutes in high demand
by your clients.  What is the second type?" I queried.

   "That type would be the unwilling indentured prostitute who won't submit
to a client's sexual advances without a fight.  Each time such a prostitute
is raped the memory of the experience is erased from his or her mind so
that he or she can experience being raped fresh with each new client.  The
trauma of the rape is then eased during the interval before the next rape
with a drug regimen geared toward minimizing PTSD.

   "We prefer persons indentured for debt to work in our facilities, rather
than persons who volunteer to be prostitutes."

   "I fully understand", I replied.

   I doubted very much he could ever achieve the level of obedience I had
just seen with any volunteer prostitute.  How on earth, I thought, was I
going to explain to these people how much harder it was about to be to get
people indentured for sexual service once 'Stephanie's Law' was passed by
the Capitallian Congress?

   Hardley then took me back in the elevator to yet another floor of this
vast establishment.  He paused outside the door of a room.

   "I will be taking you", Hardley continued, "into an observation gallery
that overlooks our 'rape room'.  There will be other observers there.  They
are clients who have expressed a desire to witness what will happen.  You
will see and hear a young woman who imagines that she is a virgin being
raped by Jason, one of our trainers.  This young woman is a penal slave so
we can take even greater liberties with her than with the indentured
servants.  I ask you to just observe and hold your comments until later."

   In my career as a slaver I had witnessed many rapes of enslaved or
indentured women.  I had no real desire to witness yet one more, yet I did
not want to be rude to my host.  I could at least get an impression of what
kind of skill and showmanship would be involved in this demonstration.

   I was glad he had told me she was a penal slave.  That meant that
whatever happened would be perfectly legal so that I need not be concerned
about being present at such an event.  We quietly entered the room where
there were three rows of seats raised on stepped tiers like theatre seats.
These seats were all very comfortably upholstered and faced a
'demonstration area' that contained a bed surrounded by a frame with
various restraint devices.

   "In a moment you will see Jason, our trainer, come out and introduce
himself", Hardley commented to me before the show began.

   Soon enough the trainer appeared.  He was naked but for a g-string that
clearly showed the outline of his generous endowments.  He had a six-pack
abdomen, a bubble butt and a very well defined musculature.  He said a few
words to us to explain what we were about to see.

   "The young lady I will shortly bring out", Jason began "is named Sherri
Bamlitz.  She is a penal slave convicted of poisoning her brother in order
to inherit his estate.  She would sell her own mother.  So I hope that none
of you gentleman will feel the least bit sorry for her for what she will
shortly endure for your pleasure.  What we will do to her is perfectly
legal and she fully deserves the rape she will shortly experience. 
Actually she has been raped several times before, but her memory of those
rapes has been wiped from her mind so that she will experience today's rape
as if it were the first.  In fact we have even brainwashed her into
believing that she is a virgin to add to the drama of today's
demonstration. So relax and enjoy what you are about to see!"

   Then he left briefly and shortly returned frog marching a fully dressed
slender young woman who was fully dressed in a fashionable blouse and
skirt, nylons, high heels and jewelry.  She was struggling fiercely to
break from his grip and was yelling a string of abuse at him.

   "I don't know who you think you are, you fucking idiot, but if you think
you are going to have sex with me you are very much mistaken!

   Just then she noticed all of the men seated in the viewing gallery.  I
thought she was looking directly at Hardley and myself.  We had not been
all that obvious to her at first because the gallery was darkened while the
demonstration area was lit up bright as day.

   "Who are all these fucking men in those seats?  Did they come to watch
me get raped?  Well they are going to be very much disappointed!  I will
put on a show for them but not the kind of show they had in mind!"

   He had obtained a firm grip with one hand in her long blonde hair and
held his other arm under her buttocks and proceeded to pull her head back
and down while raising her buttocks until her feet no longer touched the
floor.  She began to kick wildly and soon had lost one of her high heels.
He turned her so that her legs were pointed straight toward the audience
and as she continued to kick about she provided, from time to time, an
interesting up-skirt view.  I found it agreeable to observe her long
slender nylon clad legs from this perspective.

   Soon he had placed her on the bed and quickly secured her wrists over
her head with handcuffs to vertical posts at the head of the bed.  A wide
leather belt was wrapped around her waist.  Her position on the bed left
her feet pointing straight toward the audience.  She continued to violently
thrash her legs about, apparently heedless of the delicious view of nyloned
legs she was providing us.  He unfastened a zipper at the side of her skirt
and soon had pulled the skirt off.  For a moment the tail of the blouse
obscured our view but he soon had that pulled up and held up by the leather
waistband.  Then we could see that her panties were very brief and
semi-translucent except for the reinforced crotch panel.  Her abdomen was
flat, firm and well muscled.

   Despite her wild kicking, he had managed, in the twinkling of an eye, to
grab and firmly restrain her right leg.  He did this while standing at her
right side, wrapping his large left hand around her pretty knee while
firmly grasping her right calf and forcefully drawing her full right leg up
to a vertical position and beyond.  He fastened a leather cuff on her right
ankle and secured the right leg pointing back up toward her head and well
to her right side.

   He came around to her left side and repeated the process, this time
drawing her left leg up beyond the vertical, then pulling it well out to
her left side.  Her two legs now made a wide 'V'.  The effect was also to
raise her buttocks up off the bed by perhaps as much as an inch.  The
gentlemen around me began to applaud.

   "You will shortly see her defiance turning to fear", Hardley whispered
to me.

   Indeed this proved accurate as her trainer whipped out a wicked looking
knife.  He used it to cut off her panties, which he threw out into the
audience and some lucky fellow got a souvenir of today's demonstration.  We
were now treated to a very complete display of her genital area.  I heard
some intakes of breath from the men around me.  I had experienced such
entrancing views many times in the course of my career as a slaver.  But I
must say in all honesty that this was a sight a man could never grow tired
of!

   "There is no way you will get away with this!" we heard her scream at
the top of her voice.  "Where are the fucking police when you need them!"

   "I must inform you", Jason responded, "that police would be of no
assistance to you young lady.  You are a convicted felon and what is about
to happen to you is a punishment fully sanctioned by law for one such as
yourself!"

   He now had her in a position where he might proceed to rape her. 
Clearly he meant to leave her with her fashionable and expensive silk
blouse and scarf, her necklace, her diamond earrings, and her nylon hose
on. That part of her which was important to him was now fully revealed and
accessible.  He would leave all her other clothing and accessories on just
to dramatize that this was no common slut, but a woman who had formerly
come from wealth and social standing.

   The moment had come.  Jason removed his g-string and the audience
indicated its approval of his endowments with a sharp intake of breath.  To
be sure we all got a good view he rotated the bed ninety degrees so that a
side view of the bed and its occupant was presented to the audience.  He
also lowered her left leg, which was nearest the audience, and secured that
leg to a ring at the foot of the bed.  High intensity lights were focused
on the lady's crotch.  He took up his position, lubricated his penis, and
slowly introduced that penis into the lady's vagina until he was buried to
the hilt.

   Miss Bamlitz, who had been so defiant moments earlier, was now crying.
Jason was now pistoning in and out of her with long even strokes.  Every
member of the audience had a clear view.  She alternated between crying and
shouting abuse at Jason.

   After about ten minutes of this fucking we noticed certain changes in
Miss Bamlitz.  Her nipples were stiffening, her breasts were flushed, and
she appeared to be lubricating copiously.  Soon it was apparent that she
was having a full orgasm, much to her shame.  The trainer then took his
time that we might all enjoy her reactions.  Then he climbed off her, stood
up and took a bow to deafening applause.  Following this he unshackled her
and carried her off the stage.

   "Did you enjoy our little demonstration?" Hardley had turned to ask me
as we exited the rape viewing room.

   "Certainly", I replied.  "Such things are always entertaining when the
woman involved is a felon who deserves such treatment.  There is a
satisfaction in seeing justice done to one such as she."

   Actually I think Roger should be done with his conference call by now.
Let's see if he is ready to meet with us."

   So saying, he took me up the elevator to the top floor where the
executive offices were located.  He greeted Medrock's executive secretary.

   "Is he ready for us Doris?"

   "Certainly.  Go right in Ben."

   I could sense that Roger Medrock was more than ready for us.  He offered
to have coffee sent in but I declined, protesting that I had already
exceeded my caffeine quota for the morning.  Actually I would have enjoyed
a cup but thought it best not to let things get too casual since I wasn't
sure this was going to be an altogether congenial meeting.  We took our
seats upon his gesture of invitation.  He had his secretary close the inner
office door and requested that there be no interruptions for the next hour.

   "Well Mr.  Steelforth", Medrock began, "you have seen what kind of
operation we run here.  What do you think?"

   In truth I had little stomach for his kind of operation but I thought
for a moment how I might respond truthfully without offending the man. 
Giving gratuitous offense was never a good idea in the business world.

   "I think you know how to please your clients", I found myself saying,
"and turn a tidy profit while, at the same time, punishing penal slaves
according to the law for the crimes they have committed!"

   "I am so glad you understand our goals and objectives here!" he
continued.  "Before I go on I must have your word that everything we
discuss here will remain confidential.  I know you are a man of honor and
your spoken word is good enough for me."

   "No problem.  I always treat meetings with potential clients as
confidential", I replied.

   "We find", he continued, "that our customer's demand for non consensual
sex experiences far outstrip the number of attractive penal slaves we can
acquire.  That is where you come in Steelforth - if you are interested."

   "Tell me more", I replied non committally.  I wasn't sure I liked where
this might be going but I resolved to hear him out.

   "Ben showed you our 'Fellatio Row' did he not?"

   "That is correct, Mr.  Medrock." I replied.

   "Well that is one of our most popular attractions", he continued, "and
we need hundreds of new prostitutes every month to staff it.  On an annual
basis we need at least 1000 new prostitutes, year after year."

   "I shouldn't think it would be a problem to hire that many with so many
young women walking the streets because any other kind of job is scarce", I
replied.

   "We don't just want to hire streetwalkers or any other kind of free
workers" he responded.  "What we really need is unwilling sex workers to
please the appetites of our clients.  We have always found indentured women
to be our best source".

   "But now you are concerned", I interjected, "that 'Stephanie's Law' may
put a crimp on your recruiting - am I right about that?"

   "Well, we have some concerns, yes.  But I always believe there is a way
to do business under any given set of rules.  Just tell me what the rules
are and I will figure a way to make money!"

   "Assuming", I responded, "that you and I were to come to some agreement,
what would be my role?"

   "You would do more or less what you have been doing for the last twenty
years," Medrock responded.  "Only you would be doing it on a much bigger
scale.  You would be researching women all over the country that are over
their heads in debt and also attractive enough to please our clients.  You
would recommend suitable candidates to us and we would buy up their debts
and you would work actively with our attorneys to prosecute and indenture
these young women.  For starters we would like you to open a branch office
of your firm right here in Boston.  And that is only the beginning!"

   "Mr.  Medrock - you realize that under Stephanie's law the overwhelming
majority of the women I would be able to locate could be indentured for
debt but their indentures would be designated 'non-sexual' by the courts
under the new rules.  They would have to be employed in whatever trade or
profession they were already skilled in and not used as sex workers!"

   "Please!  Mr.  Steelforth!  We would use the plea bargaining exception
to the new rules!"

   "How so?" I responded.

   "Each woman you bring in", he continued, "will be scared when she is
arrested for debt.  You will interview her and lead her to believe that she
could be indentured for up to 20 years because of her unpaid debts.  Make
her also believe the deck is stacked against her and that she will almost
certainly be convicted.  And that the indenture could involve her being
shipped off to work in another state where she might not see her family for
a very long time!"

   "After you have put those fears into her head you then begin to hint
that possibly a deal could be worked out where she could voluntarily
indenture herself for as little as three years and our corporation would
then graciously drop the court case.  Point out that under the voluntary
indenture you are proposing she would only be obligated to work 40 hours a
week and would be home with her family every evening and on weekends.  She
will begin to breathe easier once you put this less threatening alternative
on the table.  Then of course you have to let her know there will be one
little catch to the voluntary indenture - that it will have to be
designated as a 'sexual indenture'.  You will hasten to add that this is
just a legal technicality to satisfy our insurance company that has refused
to provide liability insurance unless all our indentures are worded that
way.  Tell her that her real work for us will be along the lines of her
established profession."

   I found the muscles of my back tightening up, my pulse rising as I found
the words I needed to say.

   "This doesn't sound like a business arrangement that I could be
comfortable with, Mr.  Medrock!"

   "Oh don't be a fucking boy scout!  This is how business is done today. I
am offering you a chance to make a lot of money.  At least take a few days
to think about our proposal Steelforth, before you turn it down out of
hand!"

   "I won't need a few days Medrock.  The answer is no.  Find yourself
another slaver."

   "Very well then Steelforth.  I would remind you that everything we
talked about today is confidential and I will hold you to your pledge to
keep it so.  Good day."

   With that he rose and escorted me to the door of his office.  I found my
way down the elevator and out to the street astounded at what passed for
business ethics these days.  I had sometimes cut a corner or two in my days
as a slaver, but never had stooped so low as what he was asking of me.

   I checked out of my hotel, boarded a maglev back to New York City.  I
wondered if Stephanie had heard on the news about the new law that would be
named after her.  I wondered too what I would tell Stephanie about Greg
Masterson's business proposition, about the proposition I had turned down
today and about the remarkable demonstrations of sex therapy and self
defense training I had seen in the last several days.
   

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Chapter 29.  Day of Reckoning

   A few days after my meeting with Masterson I had called the referral he
had given me.  An interview was quickly scheduled with Ben Silverstein for
a possible accounting job with Silverstein and Associates, Public Auditors.
The interview had gone very well and a few days later they had called me
with an offer.  I told them that I wanted to take a week to think it over.

   The week since the trial had passed quickly and the day of public
punishments for these people had arrived!  I was to have my vindication for
what these people had done to me!  I told myself that I was only going to
attend these punishments because the judge expected me to do so.  But there
was a secret part of me that was going to enjoy this!

   Bill had an important business commitment and could not go with me.  I
did not want to be alone for this so I invited my tennis friend Becky.  I
had just renewed my friendship with her after a lapse of nearly two years.
She had been with me at the tennis courts on that day when I was served the
legal process that was to begin my enslavement.  After I won my freedom I
learned that Becky had tried several times to visit me when I was a slave
at Masterson Automotive but was informed that I was allowed no visitors. 
After I regained my freedom Becky and I spent much time catching up.

   On the way with Becky to the crucifixion site I ran into Edgar Miller.
He was wearing clothing!  He was not wearing a slave collar!  I introduced
him to Becky and asked him to fill me in about his good fortune.

   "Edgar", I began, "my lawyer had mentioned to me that you were also
seeking your freedom.  In fact your lawyer and mine shared some of the
legal research expenses.  Would you mind filling me in on what happened?"

   "Sure Steph", he replied.  "I read all about your case on the internet
news services.  In my case I had to bring an action against Leland Bank &
Trust and against Morris Leland personally for getting me convicted of
embezzlement on perjured testimony.  My attorney succeeded in getting my
conviction nullified."

   "So the Court then ordered you freed?" I asked.

   "Not quite.  There was a complication because Masterson Automotive Group
then owned me, they had not been in any way complicit in my false
conviction and they had purchased me in good faith.  The Court could not
legally just take Masterson's property without just compensation.  So the
Court had to first call in a licensed slave appraiser who recommended to
the Court what would be a fair price for me to be paid to Masterson as just
compensation.  Leland Bank & Trust was then ordered to pay Masterson that
amount and then to set me free."

   "Were there any criminal penalties involved for what was done to you?"
Becky asked.

   "Yes indeed.  That is why I am attending this public punishment today! I
actually won criminal convictions against Morris Leland and against Sally
Rigers.  Leland was the one who plotted to frame me but Ms.  Rigers
testimony was perjured and was the main evidence used to convict me.  After
my conviction Rigers came over to Masterson and became my supervisor.  I
think you may remember how she humiliated me there.  Leland and Rigers are
to be publicly humiliated today and I am very much looking forward to it!"

   Indeed I could remember all too vividly how Sally Rigers would make fun
of Edgar's obesity, flick his penis this way and that with her whip handle,
and imply that the ridiculous thing probably wouldn't even work.

   "Will these two be home free after their public punishment?" I asked.

   "No way!" he replied.  "Today is just the prelim punishment.  I am due
back in court in another week for sentences to be handed down as to their
permanent punishments.  The Court is allowing me to determine how many
years slavery each of them must endure."

   "Sort of like how the Court is letting Steph determine the permanent
punishments for her oppressors!" Becky exclaimed.

   "Exactly!" Edgar replied.

   We were now coming up on the part of Central Park where the punishments
would take happen.  The place of humiliation for Jenkins, Duncan, Cheryl
Clifford, Morris Leland, Sally Rigers and the two teenage boys named Kim
and Erin would be a kind of fairgrounds setup with an elevated exhibition
stage at the edge of Central Park.  This was considered to have sufficient
educational value that public indecency laws with respect to the prisoners
were suspended for this event, by the Mayor, in order that any interested
persons, including children, might attend.  There were tents setup with
various vendors selling all manner of food and drink.  Excited crowds made
their way toward the main exhibition platform where the crosses were
placed.

   "Wow!  This is like a carnival!" Becky exclaimed.  "This event must have
been heavily advertised!"

   "Not only that", I interjected, "but the Court assigned staff to compile
lists of all the friends, enemies and business associates of each of the
prisoners, and then to send out special invitations to all these people to
attend today's "Punishment Fair".

   I knew that there was no way of knowing how many in this excited crowd
had some such personal relationship to one or more of the prisoners.

   We had come to a place near the exhibition stage.  I saw that it had a
floor, a roof, a back wall, and the means to glass in the front and sides
in case of inclement weather.  Today was a bright sunny day and the
temperature was comfortable so all the glass panels were retracted out of
the way in the base of the stage.  Guards had, pursuant to the Court's
order, reserved for me a space on the lawn commanding a very good view of
all that would happen.  Becky and I spread out a blanket we had brought and
invited Edgar to join us.  We took our seats and passed around a thermos of
coffee.

   "I was here once last winter", Becky offered, "when it was quite cold.
The crowd huddled on the lawn in their heavy coats to watch the show.  The
stage was fully enclosed with non reflective glass panels and apparently
heated so the prisoners could still be naked."

   "There are a lot of school age kids here!" Edgar noted.  "You can get
some idea of that just from the number of school busses parked over in that
lot!"

   "Yes", Becky responded.  "The schools consider this educational.  That
is what I read on the internet.  They believe a field trip to a public
punishment will teach the kids about crime and punishment and hopefully the
kids will never be tempted into a life of crime after witnessing today's
exhibition.  "

   I knew that the schools also had the responsibility to teach Capitallian
values about the importance of bodily modesty and boundaries between people
of all ages.  Children needed to understand the real reasons why people did
not go about exposing their genitals in public.  It wasn't just a religious
taboo and it wasn't based on people being ashamed of their bodies.  Quite
the contrary.  I thought it important to say a few words about this to my
fellow spectators.

   "It isn't just the physical discomforts", I said.  "If the children can
begin to appreciate", I said, "just how punitive it is for these prisoners
to be forced to expose their private parts in a public setting perhaps they
will then begin to understand Capitallian social values.  Sometimes people
have to lose something - in this case the right to modesty - in order to
appreciate just how precious it is."

   Soon a cheer was heard.  Guards were bringing in the seven prisoners. 
The prisoners were all naked but for loincloths.  Each nearly naked
prisoner was prepared by firmly banding their wrists, biceps, and feet with
firm leather straps containing magnets.  Each prisoner was then hoisted up
on a high tech metal cross, well above the head level of the crowds, with
arms and feet secured by magnetic fasteners.

   Each prisoner was positioned with arms spread wide horizontally on the
crossbars, secured at both biceps and both wrists, and with legs drawn up
on the lower beam so that the feet are magnetically latched to each other
and to the vertical beam while the knees fold outward, one to each side, so
that the thighs are well spread - making the most complete display of the
prisoner.  There were no nails driven through any prisoner, or anything
that would cause loss of blood.  A strong cord was looped around one knee
of each person, run behind the vertical beam and secured to the other knee.
This was to ensure those knees and thighs would remain wide open.

   "My God!" Becky exclaimed.  "They are cutting the loincloths off those
prisoners!"

   Indeed a guard went from one prisoner to the next.  Each loincloth was
then, after a brief moment of suspense, drawn briskly aside with a flourish
and a small bow to the enthusiastically applauding spectators.  This guard
was quite a showman.  Soon we heard hilarious laugher from all the young
boys in the crowd.

   "It's Cheryl Clifford they are laughing at", Edgar observed.  "They are
laughing because they can see a tampon string descending from her now
exposed vulva."

   When Kim lost his modesty there were giggles from some nearby girls that
I estimated to be seventh graders from a girl's academy.  They were
laughing at his meager package.  Kim could see and hear these girls
laughing at him and appeared to be dying of mortification.  Then we heard
this same gaggle of girls cooing and whispering to each other.

   "It is Erin who just lost his modesty", Becky remarked.  No doubt those
girls are fantasizing what it would be like to have this well-hung lad
inside them.  I could get into that fantasy myself!"

   "Becky!  He's only 16 years old!" I exclaimed.

   "It is only a fantasy", she replied.  "There is no harm in a fantasy,
right?"

   Suddenly we heard raucous laughter and jeering followed by rhythmic
clapping.

   "Wow!" Edgar exclaimed.  That banker Leland just lost his covering and I
love it!"

   I felt good for Edgar that he could have his vindication against Morris
Leland.  I suspected many in the crowd had dealt with this banker when they
needed a loan or had their home foreclosed.  Now they saw him as a pathetic
creature with his genitals just barely visible beneath his rolls of fat. 
They delighted in seeing him humbled in this manner.

   When Duncan and Jenkins were bared to the crowd the reaction was more
muted because their bodies were in no way exceptional and their private
parts were also in no way exceptional.  Jenkins was portly and Duncan was a
tall middle-aged man.  Still I saw some adult single women nearby who were
suddenly fanning themselves.  When Sally Riger's cloth was pulled away
there was laughter at the tattoo she had on her shaved pubis.  It was so
incongruous with her present situation because it was the symbol of female
supremacy.  No doubt she never anticipated that anyone but a submissive
lover would ever see it.

   "Oh my!" Becky exclaimed a few minutes later.  "Now they are all doing
'the dance of the cross'.  I read about this on the internet.  It is very
difficult for a person suspended in this manner to breathe.  As long as the
body's weight is being carried mainly by the arms the diaphragm is
stretched in an unnatural position.  To breathe a person must relieve that
stretch by taking much of their weight on their feet.  This requires
tensioning the muscles and tendons of the thighs and calves.  This becomes
painful and can be held only so long before weight must be shifted back to
the arms."

   "Not only that", Edgar contributed.  "A prisoner on the cross must fall
into a rhythmic flexing and unflexing of the leg muscles that usually has
the effect of making those legs more interesting to the spectators."

   Edgar was right of course.  After some hours the position becomes
extremely fatiguing.  The prisoner grows faint as his or her circulatory
system has more and more difficulty pumping blood up from the legs.  As the
prisoner weakens he or she can no longer do the "dance of the cross" as
well and breathing becomes more difficult.  These factors eventually lead
to death if this was a literal crucifixion, but death often takes as long
as three to four days.

   Jenkins, Duncan and Leland and the boys were sentenced to spend three
days mounted on their crosses.  But the Court did not want it to be a death
sentence, so it was ordered that whenever they fainted the crosses were to
be hydraulically tilted back into a horizontal position for an hour-long
relief period, or until a doctor certified they could safely be again in a
vertical display position.  This allowed for just enough relief to their
circulatory systems and to their lung and chest muscles.  They were also
given generous amounts of water.  In this way the hurt and the humiliation
could be drawn out for as long as three days if need be.

   After about an hour of watching the prisoners 'dance' a street vendor
selling sandwiches and wine came near and the three of us purchased what we
needed to keep our strength and spirits up.  We settled back in a more
reclining position on our blanket to watch this drawn out process with some
feeling of satisfaction and vindication for what these men, women and boys
had put us through.  We had almost drifted off to sleep when we heard loud
cries of anguish.

   "Wake up guys!  Guards are whipping the genitals of the prisoners!"
Edgar exclaimed with some excitement.

   "I can't believe it!" Becky shouted.  "Some of the males are becoming
erect!"

   "The Clifford bitch and the Rigers bitch are juicing!  And have erect
nipples!  Edgar announced.

   I knew from a pamphlet the court clerk had given me that, in the earlier
stages of the process, before the prisoners became too weak, that male
erections and female juicing might be evoked by the light whippings.  These
prisoners were being forced to have public orgasms.  When one of the male
prisoners would ejaculate in response to the whipping, this would usually
evoke some applause from the spectators.  It was their way of complimenting
the guard on his skill with the whip and thanking him for the
entertainment.

   After a few more hours, partly as a result of all the water that had
been given the prisoners, one after another disgraced themselves.  When one
of them would start to pee the spectators would take up rhythmic clapping
until they finished.

   It must have been about an hour after this when there was some commotion
up on the stage.  Morris Leland's cross was being hydraulically tilted back
into a horizontal position.  A doctor was checking his pulse.

   "He's not breathing!" someone shouted.

   Then electric paddles were brought out and the prisoner was shocked
until his heart started beating again.  He was released from his cross and
secured to a gurney and carried off the stage.

   When sundown finally came the remaining prisoners were released from
their magnetic restraints, given new loincloths to replace the ones cut
away earlier, and led away by guards, presumably to spend the night resting
in their jail cells.  Most had to be supported by a guard on either side
and led out with their feet barely touching the floor as they were too weak
to stand.  By the end of this first day I had enough of this spectacle and
resolved to return only at the end of the third day for the final coup de
grace.

   At the end of the third day I appeared, this time accompanied by both
Bill and Becky, just in time to see a female doctor attend to Tom Jenkins.
I noted that Morris Leland was back on stage sitting naked in a chair
facing the crowd while the others were all back on their crucifixion
crosses.  Evidently the judge, learning of his heart attack on day one, had
modified his punishment for the other two days.

   The young female doctor had a copy of the Court's Order for Jenkins'
castration and it was her job to execute this provision.  I had my lawyer
petition the Court for him to be spared this but now I was convinced the
Court had not granted my request.  She swabbed his genital area with
alcohol, and then gave an anesthetic injection.  After waiting a few
minutes for the anesthetic to kick in, she affixed and tightened up some
small clamps to cut off the flow of blood into Tom's scrotum.  Then she
brought out a very sharp looking razor and was ready to cut Jenkins.  He
gave out a blood-curdling scream of fear.  Just then a special messenger
from the Court arrived and presented some paper to the doctor.  She nodded
her head in recognition.

   "You are one lucky son-of-a-bitch" she said to Jenkins in a voice loud
enough for those close to the platform to hear.  The lady you raped has
persuaded the Court to spare you this!  Go figure!"

   "Why did you do that?" Becky wanted to know.  "I was so looking forward
to seeing my first castration!"

   "She spared him for a business reason", Bill said to Becky and declined
to further explain.

   With that the doctor began packing up her tools and Jenkins fainted. 
Then Duncan, Jenkins and the two boys who had violated my rights were cut
down, as was Sally Rigers who had violated Edgar.  The Banker, Morris
Leland was released from the chair where he had been placed naked and
handcuffed since his heart attack on day one.  They were all too weak to
stand, so they were frog marched back to a jail holding cell where, I was
told, they would be fed and receive further medical attention.  Bill, Becky
and I stopped for a drink in a nearby pub and then went our separate ways.

   I had my fill of public brutality and just wanted to go home alone.





   Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.

   Note: If you are enjoying this story author would appreciate feedback to
dondaverse (at)

   yahoo (dot) com.
   

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<4th attachment, "Routine_Chapter 31.txt" begin>

Chapter 31.  Marketing my Charges

   I felt exhilarated by the morning's court proceedings.  Bill indicated
that he had a couple of things to discuss with me so he and I adjourned to
a cozy little bar not far from the courthouse.  As soon as we had received
our drinks and were getting comfortable he began.

   "Steph, I must say that I think the sentences you handed down this
morning were fair.  More than fair!  In some cases even kind considering
what these terrible people had put you through."

   "Thank you Bill.  I appreciate that vote of confidence.  But I am very
much disappointed that Zigler wasn't there to hear his sentence and may
well escape punishment.  I gave him the harshest sentence of all because I
consider that he has no remorse for his actions.  He lives by no moral code
whatsoever.  Other people are just things he can use for his convenience
and then discard.  Like toilet paper.  In Jenkins case I talked to many
people who knew him in a purely business context and they all said he was
honorable in his business dealings.  With him at least I felt that this was
a man who had some kind of moral code but his sexual sickness caused him to
betray his own code."

   "I hear you Steph", Bill responded.  "What you have laid out is
essentially the difference between an 'amoral' person and an 'immoral'
person.  And I think you have pretty well nailed the difference between
these two men."

   "What I don't understand", I replied, "is how Zigler is able to just be
a no show.  Will they find him soon Bill?"

   "Well you heard the judge say a warrant will issue for his arrest.  That
means an 'All Points Bulletin' will go out to police officers in every
state containing his citizen ID number, his driver license photos and the
license numbers of any vehicles registered in his name."

   "What does that actually do?" I inquired.

   "Steph, there are cameras at all major traffic intersections in nearly
all the states.  These cameras capture the license plate numbers of every
car passing through these crossings.  They are also able in most cases to
capture a photo of the driver's face."

   "Bill, do you mean there is some huge database where information about
everyone's travel is accumulated?"

   "Not at all.  You see there is a law establishing the "Matching Image
Capture System" (MICS) which mandates these cameras can only transmit a
license plate or a photo of a driver to a central computer if the camera's
software first detects a match between that plate number and one sought in
a court issued search warrant.  Otherwise all images are automatically
scrubbed at the source within seconds of the photos being taken.  This law
is designed to protect the privacy of all Capitallia's free residents."

   "What if he is riding in a car not registered to him and someone else is
the driver?"

   "Then he will not be apprehended by the intersection cameras.  But if he
is pulled over for any traffic offense he will have to show his citizen ID
and the officer will see on his computer that he is to be arrested on the
outstanding warrant.  Also if he has to present his citizen ID for any
official purpose - such as obtaining a passport - he will likely be
arrested."

   "But will any police officers be actually out looking for him, following
his trail?"

   "No.  In Capitallia, where the APB is for an adult who is fleeing a
civil action or a private criminal prosecution, such a search must be
initiated and paid for by the private plaintiff.  That means you,
Stephanie. You are the one who stands to profit if he is apprehended."

   "I want him found Bill.  This could well be the most evil man I will
ever encounter in my lifetime.  I will call my attorney and authorize him
to hire a private detective.  Now let me hear about your life."

   "Well, I went to Boston on Tuesday to see about a business possibility.
An outfit called Prostitution Services Unlimited invited me to come up to
their headquarters and tour the place.  Then they put this proposal in
front of me that could have enabled my agency to grow and make a lot of
money in the process".

   "Are you going to take the deal?" I asked.

   "No", he replied.

   "Why not?"

   "They wanted me to bring debt proceedings against only young attractive
women, then frighten them under the guise of 'plea bargaining' into signing
away their rights.  Most of these women, if they went to trial, would
probably draw non-sexual indentures of five years or less.  Some might even
be acquitted.  But I was to tell them they would surely draw twenty-year
sentences and be transported hundreds of miles away from their homes,
husbands and children.  All this would be to make them 'volunteer' for a
threeyear sexual indenture."

   "I am proud of you for turning them down Bill!  Will this be a hardship
for your business?"

   "Probably not.  I am in process of working out another deal with Greg
Masterson.  The new law you inspired will make it necessary for him to
divest his business of quite a few indentured servants and hire free
employees to do those jobs instead.  He has asked for my help to market all
those he has to let go to other employers.  I will be sending him a
proposal soon."

   It wasn't lost on me that the law, about to be passed, bearing my name,
was going to have a very large impact on the practices surrounding
indentured persons.  I felt a certain satisfaction that so many would be
spared rape and sexual humiliation by my unfortunate experience.  All was
not lost.

   "Steph, I am really worried about all the signs of post traumatic stress
I have been noticing in you lately.  Sometimes I catch you with that
million miles away look - like nothing mattered to you anymore.  When
Masterson told us in that meeting that he was legally liable to pay for
therapy for you I breathed a sigh of relief.  I was afraid you might not
get around to researching the available therapies so I did a bit of
research for you.  I hope you don't mind."

   "What did you find out?" I replied.

   "I checked out Henderson Trauma Clinic on a tip from a professional
therapist.  I had a chance to interview the Director there and actually
meet one of the couples he is currently working with.  When I told him what
you had been through, he recommended supervised one on one therapy with a
partner, encounter group therapy and a six week self defense course taught
by someone already well known to you - Susan Coxwain."

   "Susan!" I shouted.  "I have often wondered what became of her after she
retired from the New York State Police force."

   "Steph, I think you really should go over and have a talk with Dr. 
Henderson and see if his program might work for you."

   I thought of what Ralph the doorman had said to me about how I, like
other raped women, "looked like a hunted animal".  Perhaps this Henderson
Clinic was something I really should look into.  I promised Bill I would at
least consider it and kissed him goodnight.

  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

   When the day of the auction finally rolled around I decided I didn't
want to miss that either.  I made my way into the fenced in auction area
near the courthouse where my lawyer had taken me prior to my own trial.  I
noted they were checking ages of very young people and not admitting those
under 18 unless accompanied by a parent.  The nudity and sexual
humiliations that so often happened here were thought not suitable for
children, notwithstanding the exception that had been made for punishment
day.

   As I got inside I saw that there were reserved seats up close to the
auction platform for the sellers and the serious buyers.  Behind this roped
off area was a more general seating area mostly filled by gawkers and
voyeurs.  These were, for the most part, people who had not the means to
buy a slave but enjoyed coming here as spectators to enjoy the sexual
humiliation of other people as they were vended from the platform.

   I had a word with the auctioneer beforehand to make sure the sale would
be humiliating for Duncan and Ms.  Clifford.  Both would be auctioned
naked, as was the custom.  When it was Duncan's turn I had him lightly
whipped on his buttocks to arouse him so that he would erect and ejaculate
before the crowd.  There were many hoots and hollers from the voyeur
section.  The crowd could see that he was vital and bidding was brisk.  I
had a mobile electronic device that enabled me to keep track of the bids
and to know the nature of the business each bidder nominally represented.

   The seller informs us that Mr.  Duncan is being sold under the
provisions of the new "Custodial Slavery Act".  That means any who bid will
be expected to submit background information and proposals for the type of
work the slave would be doing for them and concerning any rehabilitation
and education they are committing to provide the slave.  The seller will
evaluate your bids on all these factors and not on bid price alone."
Reactions from the crowd were mixed.  Some applauded while there were
mostly groans from the voyeur section.  They found auctions more exciting
when the whole process played out in front of them and they could see whose
bid won.

   "Now do I have some bids on this handsome ejaculator?" the auctioneer
called out, manipulating Duncan's genitals with his long pointer stick.

   Someone signaled $50,000, then someone else said $70,000.

   "I will bid $95,000", said a female agent that I recognized as the rep
for Cunilingus Bars of New York.

   The vindictive part of me would love to award Duncan to this bidder. 
This company was famous for providing overweight middle-aged women an oral
sex experience where they could remain anonymous.  If I awarded Duncan to
them he would be getting a face full of sticky juices several times a night
for the next twenty years.  He would never see the faces nor learn the
identity of any woman he would be forced to service though they would
surely see his face and learn all they cared to know of his past.  But of
course I had to consider the merits of all the bids before deciding.

   There were no more bids.  The three who had bid entered their bid prices
and personal information into their laptop computers for transmittal to the
auction house computer.

   "Next up we have a very attractive young family.  A young woman is being
auctioned - also under the "Custodial Slavery Act", but she comes with two
young daughters ages 8 and 11.  The lucky bidder for the woman must assume
responsibility for housing the woman with her children, who will remain
free, in a licensed residential facility that is in compliance with the new
"Children Of Slaves" (COS) law.  The financial costs for the children's
board and room, their medical care and their education through the 8th
grade will be borne by the godparents of these children.  In a moment you
will all meet this attractive young woman and her daughters.  Out of
respect for the sensibilities of these innocent girls I must insist there
be no jeering or hooting or rude remarks of any kind while the children are
present.  Would the Clifford family come on the platform at this time!"

   I saw a modestly attired Cheryl Clifford climb the steps to the platform
holding on to two thin preteen waifs who were also modestly attired.  She
was directed to come to the front and center and face the audience.  She
looked scared and her two children seemed shy and nervous.  Her crime was
detailed and information was presented about the two children.  The
auctioneer entertained questions from the audience for perhaps ten minutes,
then the two young girls were escorted off the platform and disappeared
from sight.

   "Time for modesty is now over", the auctioneer yelled at Miss Clifford.
"Every article of clothing must be removed.  Now!" He punctuated his demand
by cracking the whip against the floorboards.

   She very timidly stripped until she was quite naked.  Then her hands
were cuffed behind her.  I had instructed the auctioneer ahead of time to
lightly whip her ass.  He was to do this until her nipples erected and
juices ran down her inner thighs.  She tried to hide her face but the
auctioneer made her stand up straight and make eye contact with bidders in
the crowd.

   "Now this young lady as you can see is in fine physical condition.  I
understand she works out regularly.  Surely there is someone in this crowd
who could put her to use dancing for customers in a strip bar!"

   There were guffaws at this.  Then a couple of bids, one for $90,000 and
one for $135,000.

   "I will bid $165,000 for her!" said a male agent I recognized as the rep
for Fantasy Showgirls."

   There were no more bids and the bidders again entered their bids in
their laptop computers for transmittal to the auction house computer.  The
high bid for Cheryl was almost twice as much as for Duncan even though her
sentence was shorter and the buyer had to assume certain responsibilities
for her children.

   In the days that followed the would-be buyers submitted all the required
information and proposals electronically.

   For Ted Duncan I had three bid proposals:

   (1) $50,000 bid.  Proposal indicated that the bidder, a male escort
service, was interested in acquiring Mr.  Duncan to service its customers.
He would spend 40 hours a week doing that and, to ensure that he remained
physically fit, would spend another 15 hours a week working out nude in the
firm's gym.  (2) $70,000 bid.  Proposal indicated that bidder, a reputable
manufacturing firm, was interested in acquiring Mr.  Duncan mainly for his
knowledge of human resource issues.  The company was just setting up a
Human Resources Department and wanted to use an enslaved professional to
manage it.  Using a slave in this position would give the company better
ability to keep its proprietary hiring practices a trade secret.  Duncan
obviously would not be free to go work for their competitors.  Mr.  Duncan
would work 30 hours a week as Human Resources Manager.  This employer
expressed a desire to treat Duncan as respectfully as possible but, to
comply with my sentence conditions he would do all his professional work
for the company nude and spend another 30 hours per week as a compulsory
prostitute, providing sexual services, not to the general public, but to an
elite clientele of male and female executives.  They would also comply,
reluctantly, with my requirement that he be taken to the public whip master
for a public whipping once every three months.  (3) $95,000 bid from
"Cunnilingus Bars of New York".  This was an establishment, as the name
suggested, that provided cunnilingus services, mostly to unattractive,
middle aged, fat ladies.  Duncan would be trained for work as a nude male
dancer and stripper and divide his time between dancing, stripping and more
intimate work for customers who liked his dancing or strip act and wanted a
more intimate service.  The anonymity of customers was carefully protected
so that Duncan would never know whose cunt he was licking, but the customer
using him would have seen him dance first and would know all about his
former work as a Human Resource Manager and the crime he committed to land
in this job.

   For Cheryl Clifford I had three bid proposals:

   (1) $90,000 bid.  Proposal indicated that bidder, a public brothel
serving male customers, would use Cheryl as a prostitute 40 hours per week.
They would arrange to board Cheryl's two children at a nearby licensed
residential facility in compliance with the new Children of Slaves (COS)
law.  Cheryl could be with her children during all her off duty hours.  The
kids would socialize with children of other slaves and would be sent to a
nearby school for education through the 8th grade.  Arrangements would be
made for them to choose between several different apprenticeship programs
once they reached age 13.  (2) $135,000 bid.  Proposal indicated that
bidder, a female escort service, would train Cheryl to be a highly skilled
escort who would accompany her clients to restaurants, theaters or sporting
events and also end each evening by sexually servicing the client.  Similar
arrangements would be made to board Cheryl's children in a COS compliant
facility and see to their social and educational needs.  (3) $165,000 bid.
Proposal indicated that bidder, "Fantasy Showgirls", would train Cheryl to
be a highly skilled erotic pole dancer.  All her dances would be in the
nude and would be sexually suggestive.  She would perform in various erotic
dance bars all around the five boroughs of New York City.  When any
customer expressed a desire, she would go upstairs with that customer for a
fee and provide any sexual services requested.  This firm employed over 500
showgirls rotating among 21 different strip bars and had its own COS
compliant facility and school for the children of their showgirls.  The
kids would receive an education through eighth grade.  Upon reaching age 13
the kids would be offered various apprenticeship opportunities - including
the opportunity to apprentice for six years as a 'junior showgirl' with the
company.  This work would entail dancing nude with Cheryl in a
mother-daughter act.  From age 13 to 16 the girls could dance but not go
upstairs with customers.  From age 16 on, if they accepted apprenticeships,
they would be expected to do it all.  The company was offering, if the
girls accepted apprenticeships with them, to include training in showgirl
management, so that the girls could eventually become part of management
when they were too old to dance.

   I had another meeting with Judge Morelock who introduced me to a Miss
Bixby, the slave advocate he had assigned to also participate in evaluating
these proposals.  She and I discussed all the above bids.  She readily
agreed with me that the escort jobs offered Duncan and Cheryl were too good
for them and would hardly constitute punishment.  While I had been
initially tempted to give him to the chain of cunnilingus bars which would
have been degrading and also gave me the highest price, I realized that
this work would be pointlessly degrading and a total waste of his talent
and experience.  So, in the end, we had little difficulty reaching
agreement that, for Ted Duncan, the most appropriate placement would be
with the manufacturing firm that wanted to use his Human Resources
experience.  The work would be humiliating and punitive, yet it would use
his abilities and allow him to stay current in this field so that he might
obtain employment as a free man after his time was served.

   In the case of Cheryl Clifford we had to agree to disagree.  Miss Bixby
wanted to place Cheryl in the public brothel because she thought that would
be less degrading work than sexually suggestive pole dancing plus going
upstairs and providing sex to customers.  She kept talking about how
'obscene' pole dancing was.  I thought obscenity was in the mind of the
beholder.  At least with the brothel job, Miss Bixby maintained, Cheryl's
children could be kept innocent of any knowledge of how their mother was
being punished.  I wanted to give Cheryl to "Fantasy Showgirls" because I
thought it would be less humiliating than the brothel job.  At least she
could take pride in her skills as a dancer and performer.  Also because I
believed her kids should not be kept in the dark about their mother's
punishment.  In this job they would talk to children of other showgirls and
would inevitably learn what their mother had to do every day.  Probably
they would pester their godparents for permission to watch their mother
dance for the customers.  They would see a highly erotic performance by a
self-confident dancer and quite possibly develop an itch to do that type of
dancing themselves.  I honestly believed that the apprenticeships that
would be offered Cheryl's girls could be a good break for them.  Also, of
course, their bid was the highest.  I was allowed to consider that as well.

   Miss Bixby and I submitted our disagreement to Judge Morelock who backed
our joint recommendation for Ted Duncan and my choice for Cheryl.

   A few days later I received a call from a Sarah Westham, who owned a
chain of auto repair facilities in New York State.  These were repair shops
that specialized in the high tech cars, built by Masterson Automotive,
which could drive themselves in cities where a grid had been installed. 
Mrs.  Westham was offering my two boys an apprenticeship to train for
positions as future journeymen mechanics with her firm.  These would be
well paying jobs the boys could hold after they were freed.  It was an
excellent opportunity for them.  Part of the arrangement was that Mrs. 
Westham had the hots for Erin and would be using him sexually during his
apprenticeship.  He was sixteen now so that would not be a legal problem.

  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
--

   In the weeks that followed Edgar sold the banker as a simple chattel
slave, realizing a substantial sale price.  He used that money to send
Sally Rigers to Richmond Slendabond for slave breaking.  After their
program he knew he could control her and so had her transferred to his own
home where he knew he could incapacitate her musculature whenever he wished
with a post-hypnotic command.  His plan was to vindictively rape her daily
for a month or until the thrill was gone.  He found that he thoroughly
enjoyed these rapes and that the thrill never really did wear off.  He
decided to keep her more or less permanently as his personal sex slave.

   I sent my five newly acquired slaves to Richmond Slendabond to be broken
into their new status in life.  In the case of Jenkins, the manufacturing
company had specified in their bid that I deliver to them a trained slave.
In the case of Cheryl Clifford, "Fantasy Showgirls" had similarly specified
in their bid that I supply a trained girl.  And the others I also needed to
train even though I was retaining ownership.  Naturally I was curious as to
how they would be trained and how far they had progressed in the few days
since their arrival at the facility.  The facility was a two hour drive up
into the Catskills from New York City.  I did not want to drive up there
alone so Bill agreed to go with me.

   The ride took us through beautiful scenery.  I could not help but think
back to the first time I had made this trip with Bill only a year ago. 
That had not been a happy trip since Bill was then delivering me to the
place where I would be broken.  He had been driving then too and his
partner Virginia had been riding in the back seat.  I had been acutely
aware of what loss of freedom felt like since I had not wanted to go on
that trip at all and my hands were cuffed behind me the whole trip.  My
wishes had meant nothing then.  I had been scared stiff about what they
would do to me once I was delivered to the training facility.  I had also
been acutely conscious of how immodestly attired I was, wearing only a
short cape that barely covered my crotch and left my long legs entirely
bare.  I had noticed Bill admiring my legs many times on the trip but he
had been a gentleman.

   Now it was just Bill and myself in the car.  The circumstances were very
different.  I was going not as a slave, but as a slave owner.  And I was
modestly attired in a business suit and high heels.  We eventually were
traveling in farmland and about two hours out of New York we arrived at the
old estate that had been converted into a training facility.  We saw the
long stone walls and then were at the gatehouse.  Soon we were pulling into
a parking spot near the main visitor entrance.  How different from last
time when I had been delivered to the loading dock.

   We entered and approached the receptionist.  Bill announced to her that
we were here to see the training director, Charlie Witherspoon.  I well
knew this man, of course, from my earlier experience as a slave undergoing
training.  Mr.  Witherspoon had been the one who had personally trained me,
against my will, to be a skilled fellatrix.  When Bill had told me that he
would be our host for this tour I was shaken.  I did not know if I could
face this man again.  It might bring back all the old fears.  The day
before I had a discussion with Dr.  Henderson about my misgivings and he
told me just how important it was that I face this man and establish a new
kind of relationship with him to replace the old subservient one.

   When Witherspoon came into the lobby and greeted us he was most
gracious. He treated me like a lady and not like the naked slave he had, at
one time, forced to lick his penis.  I made a point of being assertive with
him, since I was now his customer and not his trainee.

   "Mr.  Witherspoon, I understand that you will show us today how my five
slaves are being trained and answer my questions about the training
methods."

   "Please, Miss Glenn, call me Charlie.  I work for you now.  You owe me
no formality.  Let's begin our tour by taking the elevator down to what we
call the "Cylinder Room" in the sub basement."

   Bill had told me about this room.  He had written about it in some
detail in his own memoirs a year ago.  I knew that this is where all the
brainwashing began.  As the elevator made its way downward, Charlie began
to explain what I was about to see.

   "You should realize Stephanie, it is crucial that we have the ability to
impose our mind control techniques on even the most resistant subjects. 
Bill has seen all this before but it may be a revelation to you.  The
ability of subjects to resist mind control will depend on their remaining
oriented to the reality around them.  That awareness is what we take from
them with the help of sensory deprivation and the bio-implants.  Let us see
some of our subjects undergoing sensory deprivation."

   We emerged on a large open floor with a ceiling that was perhaps 14 foot
high.  My eyes were immediately drawn to a row of twenty vertical cylinders
made of clear glass, each about eight feet tall and three feet in diameter.
What was striking about these was that each cylinder contained a naked
human being, apparently suspended in some clear liquid medium that came up
a foot or so higher than head level.  These suspended humans had various
wires attached to them and tubes coming out of them.  Next to each cylinder
there was some sort of control console with all sorts of monitoring
instruments.  The room had a surreal look because overall lighting was dim
but with the cylinders, their naked occupants and the control consoles
brilliantly lit up by contrast.

   The first two cylinders contained young women.  Charlie led us a bit
farther down the row to where there were some cylinders containing naked
young men.  These men were slender and well muscled with rock hard
abdomens. They had impressive endowments between their legs.  In all the
cylinders the nude occupants had their hands cuffed in front and wore ankle
shackles.  In all of them the occupants were hooked up to breathing tubes
and I could observe the level of liquid in the cylinders subtly rising and
falling in time with their respirations.  Fortunately these breathing tubes
hid little of their faces from view.  Their eyelids were taped shut.  My
impression was that the two men in front of us must have been having sexual
thoughts because each man's penis was partially erect.  Each wore a Texas
catheter fitted around the end of the penis with a tube leading to a clear
external cylinder that appeared to be about half full of urine.  Charlie
carefully studied my facial expressions for a while to judge my responses
to all this, then began to offer me an explanation.

   "Why the Texas catheter?  Why not a Foley?" I asked.

   "Because the Foley goes up inside the penis all the way to the bladder,
while the Texas catheter, as you can see, is fitted around the outside of
the penis.  The men often become aroused during their time in the cylinder
and we want them to be able to masturbate and ejaculate - which they can do
with this type of catheter."

   "I see", I said.

   "But why don't we move down to the other end and have a look at your
properties", Charlie offered.

   We came to the other end of the row of glass cylinders.  I could see
that the last 5 cylinders, all in a row, were filled with my slaves.  What
a thrilling sight that was!  There was Tom Jenkins, Ted Duncan, Cheryl
Clifford, Erin and Kim!  All the people who had violated my rights.  Now
they were all being stripped of their dignity and their free will in these
cylinders because I had ordered it!  Wasn't I the powerful one?

   "Bill, this man", I said pointing to Duncan, "is the man who interviewed
me for the job at Masterson Automotive".  Also he was the man who refused
to investigate my sex harassment claim and the man who fired me and turned
my life into a nightmare.  For the longest time I was afraid of this man.
Now as I look at him hanging naked and restrained in a glass cylinder, he
just doesn't look so scary anymore.  He looks pathetic!"

   "This woman", I said pointing to Cheryl Clifford, "is the former slave
advocate who was supposed to have protected me from the abuses I suffered
while a slave.  But I never saw her during my time as a slave.  She had
more important things to attend to then interviewing slaves and
investigating their work conditions.  Now that I see her like this, hanging
naked and restrained and with a small catheter coming out of her vulva to a
urine jar, I see that she is pathetic too!"

   "Stephanie", Bill responded, "you too once hung naked, restrained and
blindfolded in one of these tanks!  It is part of the training all slaves
go through here."

   "Is that really true Mr.  Witherspoon?" I needed to know.  I could
hardly bear the thought of my hanging there like Cheryl with a tube coming
out of my twat.

   "It's true, Miss Glenn.  You were in the same cylinder that Cheryl hangs
in now.  I was the one who put you in the tank."

   I wanted to cry at this news, but I knew I had to steel myself and be
the tough new take charge individual I wanted to be.  I couldn't let
Charlie and Bill see me turn to jelly at this revelation.

   "I'm sure you would like to see Erin", Charlie offered after a long
pause, eager to change the subject, and led us down to the last cylinder.

   There was Erin hanging there blindfolded, his beautifully muscled
slender 16 year old body, and his head of brilliant red hair matched by the
red color of his pubic hair.  My eyes lingered on his genitals - those
parts of him that had seemed loathsome when he was raping me during my
kidnapping.  Now they did not seem loathsome because he was now powerless.
Now I could see those parts of him as beautiful.  Poor Erin with his
intense hang-ups about modesty!

   Just then I noticed Erin's penis beginning to stiffen a little.  Soon
his hands were starting to play with his parts.  The penis became still
harder.  After much more self fondling Erin began to jerk forward and back
with his hips and pretty soon we saw the previously clear golden liquid in
the tube from catheter become filled with a milky white substance.  A
greatly pleased and relaxed look came over Erin's face.  I didn't need a
program to know what had just happened.

   "Doesn't Erin have any modesty any more?" I wanted to know.

   "Sure he does", Miss Glenn.  "It's just that he thinks he is in the
privacy of his own bedroom and not being observed by three people!  He
can't see us or even have a tactile experience of being in a tank.  We
control his perceptions of where he is through his bio-implant device. 
That is why he thought he was masturbating in private."

   "But why did he do this just now - while we were standing here?"

   "We stimulated him through that control console over there", Charlie
replied.  "We wanted to put on a little show for you!  Thought you might
enjoy it!"

   "Well I suppose I did, dammit!" I stammered.  "How humiliating that will
be for him when he finds out about this later!" I said.

   "Most slaves never find out about their time in the tank" Charlie
remarked.

   "Did I masturbate when you had me in this tank?" I needed to know but
was afraid of the answer."

   "Yes, you did", Miss Glenn.  "And I don't think I ever witnessed such a
pretty masturbation!  We even have a video clip of it - and I will be happy
to surrender our only copy of that video to you when you leave today."

   "I would certainly appreciate your doing that Mr.  Witherspoon!"

   I indicated to Charlie that I had seen enough of the 'cylinder room'. 
He led us back to the elevator and up to the floor where his office was. 
There we began a discussion on the finer points of slave training.

   "The first aim of slave training, of course, is obedience.  The slave is
of little use to his or her owner if he or she cannot be controlled.  But
beyond that there are a lot of variables in slave training having to do
with the desired attitude that an owner wishes the slave to exhibit."

   "How would this concern my slaves?" I asked.

   "We have some specific suggestions for them", Charlie continued.  "Take
Ted Duncan, for example.  We think since you will be selling him to a
manufacturing firm where he will be an enslaved Human Resources Manager,
that his attitude should be one of genial self-confidence.  He must be
capable of projecting an appearance of authority even while being
absolutely obedient to his corporate superiors."

   "Or take Cheryl Clifford.  We understand you will sell her to "Fantasy
Showgirls" where she will be a stripper, pole dancer and prostitute.  We
think when she is entertaining on stage she should be a femme fatale.  She
should project a willingness to entertain, even pleasure in entertaining,
along with an aura of mystery.  But when she has to go upstairs with a
customer for sex, it might be best if her attitude could be variable -
whatever would turn a particular customer on.  Some may want a willing
prostitute who is eager to please.  Others may want a prostitute who is
coyly reluctant or even one who is rebellious so they can feel they are
essentially forcing her to have sex."

   "What about Tom Jenkins?" I wanted to know.

   "For Jenkins we think an attitude of extreme humility, even self
effacement, might work best.  That would be consistent with the type of
humiliating sex therapy you plan for him."

   "I think for the two boys I would like it best if they retain that cute
modesty thing, and that they also remain somewhat rebellious", I said.

   "Consider it done!"

   With that we concluded our meeting.  Charlie quietly handed me the
videotape of my own masturbation that he had earlier promised.  Bill and I
took the two hour drive back to Manhattan.

   On the drive back I asked Bill if he had watched me masturbate when I
was in the tank.  He assured me that he had not.

  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----

   In recent weeks I had come to realize that my views on slavery had come
full circle.  Now I was starting to ask myself whether my new views,
together with a possibly successful sex therapy, shouldn't be reasons
enough to take a fresh look at the possibility of a romantic relationship
with Bill.  The nearly twenty year difference in our ages was a source of
concern, yet I enjoyed the maturity I found in him which I usually did not
find in men my own age.  When I had something to express he was always
willing to listen and give feedback.  More than that I felt visible when I
was with Bill.  I had a sense that he perceived me much as I perceived
myself.

   I had, based on the information Bill had given me earlier, contacted the
Henderson Trauma Clinic and begun a program of individual sex therapy for
myself.  It was designed to cure me of my fear of intimacy with a male that
my multiple rapes had caused.  I knew I would need to begin working with a
male partner soon.  They had offered me a male surrogate partner, but I had
been thinking that perhaps I could persuade Bill to work with me in therapy
as my sex partner.  I knew that, in my present traumatized state, I could
only offer him sex under the supervision of a therapist and with the
benefit of the anti-trauma drug.  I knew also that he was hot for me, but
would he be comfortable having sex with me in that clinical setting?

   It was in this context that I answered the doorbell of my apartment one
day and was surprised to find Bill standing there.

   "Am I interrupting anything?" he said.  "If you have no special plans I
would like to talk."

   I agreed that I had nothing special planned for that afternoon and
invited him to stay awhile.  After offering him coffee and exchanging the
usual pleasantries Bill came straight to the point of his visit.

   "I feel that you and I have an affinity for each other, and I would like
to know you better.  Much better."

   I liked his directness.

   "Bill", I began, " As you know, I have been having sex talk therapy for
some weeks now with a therapist at the Henderson Trauma Clinic where I
verbalize my traumatic experiences under the influence of their patented
anti-trauma drug."

   "How is that going?" Bill interjected.

   "So far so good", I replied.  "Bill, this is awkward, but you did say
you wanted to know me much better.  I am reaching a point in my therapy
where I need to work with a male partner on my comfort levels with ever
increasing intimacy.  They have offered me a male surrogate partner, but I
would really like it if you would be my partner in therapy!"

   There.  I had said it.  Now I waited in tense suspense to see what would
be his answer.

   "I would be delighted to be your partner in therapy!"

   We both breathed a sigh of relief and resolved to make the arrangements
the following day.

   "Steph", he continued, "you once told me that you held strong
anti-slavery views and that my profession therefore would get in the way of
our having a more intimate relationship.  Do you still feel that way?"

   "Had strong anti-slavery views", I responded.  "The operative word is
'had'.  I now understand better than I ever did before just how important
the systems of slavery and indentured service are in this country.  I have
also come to understand that, notwithstanding my own bitter experience,
that there are a lot of people involved in maintaining these systems,
yourself included Bill, that are good and decent people."

   "Thank you for that", Bill responded.  "But there is another matter.  I
have often wondered lately if you ever forgave me for that rather intimate
"Creditor's Examination" I did on you before the trial?"

   "Bill, what can I say?  It was one of the most humiliating times in my
life!  Yet I recognize that, at the time, you were doing your duty to your
client under the law as it existed at that time.  Hopefully the law named
after me, when or if it goes into effect, will ensure that few young women
are examined in that way in the future.  I know that you were not seeking
to make it any more humiliating than it needed to be to satisfy the legal
requirements of the time.  "

   "I appreciate your attitude Steph", Bill responded.  I am not sure I
would be so forgiving if it were the other way around.  I will take it then
that you and I do have a chance for a long term relationship?"

   I responded with no words but gave him an affectionate hug and a kiss
and we said goodnight.





   Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.

   Note: If you are enjoying this story author would appreciate feedback to
dondaverse (at)
   yahoo (dot) com.  

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<5th attachment, "Routine_Chapter 30.txt" begin>

Chapter 30.  Private Sentencing

   The evening after that brutal public punishment fair I relaxed at home
and thought about what sentences I would hand out.  I was feeling a good
deal less vindictive after watching that cruel exhibition - just as the
judge had indicated.  What would happen to the prisoners next was up to me
the judge had said.  I checked my messages and found one from Judge
Morelock's law clerk.  She said the judge would like to see me with my
attorney and opposing counsel in his chambers the day after next if
possible and to call her in the morning to confirm.

   On the appointed day I went to the judge's chambers at 2 pm as arranged.
Cheryl Clifford's lawyer was there, the public defender representing the
boys and the attorney representing Zigler, Duncan and Jenkins.  The judge's
clerk asked us all to wait until the judge finished a conference with
attorneys on a medical malpractice case.  Finally we were shown in.

   "Miss Glenn", the judge began, "we are here today because each of the
attorneys for the defendants has filed a motion asking the Court to pass
sentence on their clients instead of allowing you to do that.  Do I have
that right gentlemen?"

   "Your Honor", Miss Clifford's attorney responded".  I think I may speak
for all defense counsel here in expressing a concern that any sentences
Miss Glenn might pass would likely be colored by her anger and bitterness
over the way our clients treated her.  Also we would argue that she has a
conflict of interest in that she gains financially from enslaving our
clients in direct proportion to the severity of sentences she hands down."

   "So you are questioning her objectivity?" the judge queried.

   "Yes, and we think that lack of objectivity could result in excessive
sentences for our clients" one of the other defense attorneys joined in.

   "Well, I have a way of handling this that may satisfy you all.  I want
each of you to submit a proposed sentence for your client that is within
the range specified in the official sentencing guidelines.  I will ask Miss
Glenn to do the same.  Then I will compare her sentences with yours,
defendant by defendant.  If her sentence for any given defendant seems
reasonable and she can support it in oral argument, the Court will use her
sentence for that defendant.  If not the Court will throw out her sentence
and use the sentence proposed by defense counsel.  That should motivate her
to be moderate in her judgments.  It should also motivate you, counselors,
to propose realistic sentences - for if the sentences you propose for your
clients are much too light I shall almost certainly use hers."

   "How will she be required to support her sentences in oral argument?"
the Clifford attorney asked.

   "With reference to a standard list of aggravating factors and mitigating
factors that we judges have always used to arrive at a fair sentence.

   "Will there be a written order to this effect?' the attorney for Zigler,
Duncan and Jenkins asked.

   "My clerk should have it ready by noon tomorrow.  Mr.  Green, as Miss
Glenn's counsel, you will be expected t assist her in applying these
factors to arrive at appropriate sentences.  If there is nothing further,
gentlemen, I have several more conferences to get to this afternoon."

   With that the meeting broke up and we went our separate ways.

   --------------------------------------------------------------

   I was due in court the following week to present sentences.  Clearly it
was now in my best interest to weigh the sentences carefully since, if I
got carried away, a defendant might wind up getting sentenced by his own
attorney.  And that would probably be little more than a slap on the wrist.

   I should throw the book at the former Masterson employees, being
careful, however, to justify heavy sentences based on an impressive list of
aggravating factors.  I could talk about the degree to which they
premeditated their crime, their lack of concern for the consequences of
their actions, the danger they might pose to the community if they were not
sufficiently punished, the need to set an example to deter others from
committing such crimes, etc.  I had to determine the lengths of their
slavery sentences, any special punitive conditions that would attach to
their slavery and what to do with their financial assets.  I had no
particular desire to have any of them as my personal slaves.  Clearly my
best option, after enslaving them would be to sell them and realize some
financial gain.  Edgar would be at that session with me to present his
sentences for the banker Morris Leland and for Sally Rigers and to take
possession of them pending probable sale at auction.

   Jenkins, however, was a special case.  I had spared him the castration
only because I had decided to accept Greg Masterson's offer to lease
Jenkins from me and put him through a very humiliating sexual therapy
program that I, as his owner, could monitor and make changes to from time
to time.

   Then I thought about the two boys and wondered if I should be more
lenient with them.  I remembered some lines from an old Shakespeare Play
about the 'quality of mercy'.

   First I did an internet lookup, discovered the name of the play, looked
for a summary and found this excerpt:

   Concerning 'The Merchant of Venice Act 4, Scene 1, from eNotes.com:

   "Disguised as a doctor of law, Portia has come to rescue Antonio, the
merchant of Venice.  Antonio had foolishly signed a bond granting the
usurer Shylock a "pound of flesh" [see p.114] if he defaulted on the loan
he was forced to seek--ironically, in order to help a friend court Portia.
And defaulted Antonio has.  After determining the facts of the case, Portia
doesn't appeal at first to legal technicalities--which are the only way she
will force Shylock to submit--but delivers a Christian moral.

   "When Shylock demands to know why he "must" be merciful, Portia replies
that compulsion is precisely contrary to the spirit of mercy, which is not
"strain'd" (forced).  Only because mercy is voluntary--because it mitigates
the compulsions of the literal law--is it true mercy ...  a natural and
gracious quality rather than a legal one."

   Then I went to the bookshelves in my library and found the volume
containing the Shakespeare play.  In the play I found the famous lines I
had learned once in school:

   From Shakespeare's play:
Portia:

   The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain
from heaven Upon the place beneath.  It is twice blest: It blesseth him
that gives and him that takes."

   I thought then of Erin, the slender redheaded youth of 16, and his
shorter stockier 13 year old accomplice Kim.  They were only boys after
all. They were old enough to know better and should be enslaved of course
for what they did to me, but perhaps I could find it in my heart to give
them a somewhat shorter term than the others and put them into a kind of
slavery that would be only partly punitive but mostly educational - so that
they might have an opportunity to eventually reclaim their lives. 
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-

   The next morning I awoke screaming and in a cold sweat.  I had just
experienced a nightmare where I was being forced to breast feed the baby I
had been forced to carry for Mel Zigler and his wife.  I wanted nothing to
do with that baby.  I had to remind myself that this was just a nightmare.
No such baby existed.  Zigler had actually never successfully impregnated
me prior to my being set free from slavery.  Over the next week I had
occasion to go out several times - sometimes for needed shopping, other
times just to get out of my apartment.  Always I exchanged pleasantries
with Ralph, the doorman of my building.  When I had first moved in he had
been rather formal with me, perhaps feeling that it was not his place as a
doorman to engage in frank conversations with the building tenants.  But
over the passing weeks we had gotten on a much more informal basis.  Ralph
had witnessed the street assault by the two boys and I had confided in him
about how I was raped as a slave by Jenkins and Zigler.  One night I came
home tired after a shopping trip.  Ralph quite surprised me as I entered my
building.

   "Stephanie, I've seen that look before", he said.  "You remind me of
other women who were kidnapped and abused.  You look like a hunted animal."

   His comment startled me at first, but after a moment I realized that he
must be right.  " I only said that", he continued, "because I think you
should maybe seek out some sort of treatment.  I understand there are
programs to help women who have been raped."

   "Thanks Ralph.  Perhaps I will look into it.  Good night."

  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----

   The next day I began thinking about what I would do with the proceeds of
selling Jeff Duncan and Cheryl Clifford.  They would be mine to sell even
if the judge substituted shorter sentences proposed by defense counsel for
the longer ones I would propose.  The amount I should realize from the two
of them would be very substantial.  And this would be in addition to their
liquidated financial assets and personal property, the rental income I
would receive from leasing Jenkins to Masterson Automotive and the money I
would receive from liquidating Jenkins financial assets.  I was feeling
somewhat uncomfortable to claim such a large windfall just for myself. 
Maybe there was something else I could do with part of these proceeds.

   I remembered Fred Maxwell, Bill's high school civics teacher who had
spoken so eloquently at the "Reform Slavery Now" meeting.  Mr.  Maxwell had
spoken then as an abolitionist, and while I no longer held that view
myself, I respected him for his ideals.  There had been an item in the news
a few months back about how he had co-founded "Slave-No-More", an
organization to help former slaves get back on their feet.  It was a
charitable foundation that provided help to former slaves regardless of
ability to pay.  I could certainly support that concept.  I phoned and he
agreed to meet me later that day.  We began by discussing the good works
his organization engaged in and eventually got around to the help that I
might be able to provide.

   "Mr.  Maxwell", I began, "I am impressed with the help your charity
provides to former slaves and believe I might be able to make a
contribution of $100,000."

   "I can't tell you how much such a contribution will mean to our
organization", he replied.  "There are so many projects that we have had to
postpone indefinitely due to a shortage of funds.  May I ask how someone as
young as yourself, only a few years after being manumitted, could be in
position to make a donation on that scale?"

   "It is because of the verdicts I won in court over my unjust
enslavement", I responded.

   "Please!  Miss Glenn, many of my colleagues here at "Slave-No-More"
would argue that all enslavements are unjust!"

   "Would you argue that sir?"

   "No - not in quite the way I once did.  But I must ask you first, Miss
Glenn, if these judgments you won against those who wronged you are money
awards which the defendants will have to pay out of their personal wealth?"

   "No sir.  The judgments were that the defendants all became my property.
I am arranging to sell some of them at public auction just as soon as the
judge approves the lengths of sentences I propose.  I just felt that I
would be receiving so much that I wanted to use part of that money to help
a worthwhile organization such as yours!"

   "Do I take it then that you plan to sell these criminals as slaves to
the highest bidder - regardless of the consequences to the criminals?"

   "That is my plan sir."

   "I am sorry Miss Glenn.  I know that your offer was well intentioned,
but one thing I vowed when we started this charity was that we would never
take money that was obtained by selling human beings like commodities.  I
must refuse your donation.  To my co-founder and myself it would be like
accepting blood money!"

   "Mr.  Maxwell!  You know that I was unjustly enslaved on trumped up
debts.  You also know that I was raped while a slave.  The men that did
this to me are evil!  Was I not entitled to seek to have these men punished
for the crimes they committed against me?"

   "Yes", he replied.  "Punishment for crime is appropriate.  You should
have fought to have them convicted for their crimes."

   "But sir, you know that Capitallia has abolished imprisonment as a
punishment for crime.  There are no publicly funded prisons where criminals
can simply be warehoused at public expense.  The only form of punishment we
have in Capitallia is some form of slavery or indentured service."

   "Yes", Miss Glenn, "I fully realize that.  Even if we brought back the
prison system it would still be bondage."

   "How so sir?"

   "I have been forced to the realization", he continued, "that, whether I
like it or not, punishment of criminals inevitably reduces these human
beings to some form of slavery.  It cannot be otherwise.  It is only a
question, then, of who shall be the master of the enslaved felon.  Shall it
be a prison warden who shall cage the criminal and exercise absolute
authority over every aspect of his or her life for the next ten or twenty
years?  Or shall the criminal's master be a private individual or
organization who shall not cage the criminal but shall instead control him
or her in a way that the criminal can produce a valuable commodity or
provide a valuable service?"

   "The way you present those alternatives it sounds like you favor private
ownership of the criminal?"

   "My views on slavery have evolved somewhat since my abolitionist speech
at the hotel meeting.  What I am still passionately opposed to is human
beings being treated as mere commodities that may be bought and sold with
no regard for their needs or sensibilities."

   "But how", I asked, "can society allow for private masters of convicted
persons without reducing criminals to the status of mere commodities to be
bought and sold by the highest bidder?"

   "I see you have not entirely kept up with the news in this field Miss
Glenn.  Even while your "Stephanie's Law" was going through Congress there
was another law quietly passed by the New York State Legislature called the
"Custodial Slavery Act".  So far New York is the only state to have this,
but other states are watching to see how it plays out.  This law is
intended to provide an alternative to plain old chattel slavery."

   "How would this be different than chattel slavery?" I asked.

   "As you know", he continued, "only citizens can own slaves and many of
these citizens have some feeling that they should, in return, help their
slaves to become better people.  A very personal relationship often
develops between slave and owner and the slave often receives the help he
or she needs to return to a productive life after manumission.  I am not
saying all Capitallian slave owners are this enlightened but the "Custodial
Slavery Act" formalizes a commitment of master to slave that has existed
informally with many masters as a kind of noblesse oblige!"

   "Last week", I responded, "there was a Tim O'Malley in the news for
running a chain of nudie pole dancing bars.  Lost his citizenship or
something.  Do you suppose a fellow like that felt this noblesse oblige you
are talking about?  Do you suppose a guy like him was doing anything to
help his enslaved dancers become 'better people' as you put it?"

   "Perhaps not Miss Glenn.  But I think you might at least agree that Mr.
O'Malley is not your typical Capitallian slave owner.  Many owners do help
their slaves.  How much help do convicts get in prison?"

   "Very little."

   "Exactly.  The new law only provides an option for sentencing criminals.
It is not mandatory.  Probably the majority of criminals will still be
sentenced to plain old chattel slavery for the foreseeable future.  The
whole point of telling you about the new law is to suggest to you that you
sentence your criminals to be custodial slaves rather than chattel slaves."

   "How would that actually work?" I asked.

   "If you sentence them to custodial slavery you can still solicit bids
for them but you would be committing yourself to not necessarily selling to
the highest bidder but to the one you and certain others thought would best
serve the slave's interest as well as his own interest.  You would be
soliciting not just dollar bids but buyer background information and
proposals concerning the rehabilitation services and educational advantages
the prospective owner would provide."

   "Who would be these 'others' who would have a say in all this?" I wanted
to know.

   "That would be a slave advocate assigned by the Court and the judge. 
All three of you would review the proposals submitted by would-be buyers
and their background data.  You and the slave advocate would each inform
the judge of which buyer proposal you favor and your reasons for that
choice.  The judge would make the final choice."

   "But what about punishment?  I was so looking forward to 'throwing the
book' at these villains.  Do I have to forget about getting even with these
scoundrels?"

   "You can still deal out severe punishments, as long as your punishments
do not cripple the slave physically or mentally and prevent his or her
future growth.  The Custodial Slavery Act recognizes that punishment serves
a valuable purpose in educating the criminal that crime does not pay."

   "What about the buyers?  If they buy a custodial slave are they making a
commitment too?"

   "Absolutely.  Those who place bids would be making a legal commitment
that if their bid is accepted they would manage the slave not only for
their benefit as a slave owner, but also for the long run benefit of the
slave.  In effect they would commit to regarding the slave as their ward
and not as mere property.  Taking on a slave would be almost like adopting
a child!"

   "I like what I am hearing!  If I sell them under the new law would you
reconsider letting me donate part of the proceeds to your charity?"

   "I think I would consider it." He handed me a pamphlet.  "Here is some
information for structuring punishments under the new law.  If you take
this to your attorney I am sure he can help you draft the appropriate
language for sentencing your criminals."

   "Thank you sir.  This has been enlightening and I feel much more
comfortable about all this now."

   With that our meeting was concluded.

   -------------------------------------------------------------------

   The following Monday Bill accompanied me for the trip to court.  Before
the official opening of Court another meeting had been scheduled in
chambers with my attorney and opposing counsel present.  I submitted my
proposed sentences to the judge, arguing for each sentence with reference
to the aggravating or mitigating factors that the law recognized.  I stated
my intent to sell the criminals under the "Custodial Slave Act".  The judge
listened to me with interest, then looked at the sentences that had been
suggested by opposing counsel.  It did not take him long to rule that my
sentences would carry the day in every case.  The meeting was concluded and
we waited in the courtroom for the official opening of the Court session.

   The defendants, except Zigler, were sitting, in bright orange jail
uniforms, at the defense table with their attorneys.

   "This session of the Court is for purposes of sentencing.  The Court
takes notice of the fact that convicted felon Zigler is not in attendance
and a warrant has been issued for his arrest.  I have reviewed the
sentences prepared by the plaintiff-victims, Ms.  Stephanie Glenn and Mr.
Edgar Miller, and find their sentences all in conformance with the
requirements of the law and within the guidelines for the offenses for
which each of you has been convicted.  In fact I find their sentences to be
more lenient to most of you than I would have been if they had left
sentencing to the Court.

   "I order all defendants who are present to stand at this time to hear
their sentences.  Ms.  Glenn, if you will read out your sentences at this
time, including Mr.  Zigler's, who will be sentenced in absentia."

   I rose, confident in what I was about to do.  This was my time for
justice.

   "First", I began, "there is the matter of your financial assets and
personal property.  The law requires me to take custody of all such assets
and property.  The Court has already given me a Writ of Execution so that I
may do so.  By law I may sell your financial and other assets with two
qualifications.  One is that your books, records, correspondence, photos,
computer hard drives and any property that is of primarily informational or
sentimental value are exempt from sale.  I am required to arrange to store
all such items in a secure storage vault until the time of your manumission
from slavery, when such items will be returned to you.

   "The other qualification is that any financial assets any of you have
that are in excess of $500,000 must be placed in a trust where it will be
invested at interest and returned to you upon manumission.  Each of you
will undergo a financial examination in the next few days to see if you
have assets in that amount.  Any assets you have that do not exceed
$500,000 will be forfeit to me.  Upon your manumission I am required by law
to provide each of you with a modest manumission fee which should help you
get back on your feet as free men and women again."

   The law set this $500,000 ceiling on confiscation of assets to ensure
that there would not be incentives in the system for very wealthy people to
be targeted by private prosecutors simply in order to acquire vast riches.

   "You are all sentenced", I continued, "under the new "Custodial Slavery
Act".  In order to ensure the enslavements will be appropriately punitive
in nature, they will all involve either hard labor or involuntary sexual
service to the public.  For Miss Clifford 8 years, Mr.  Duncan 10 years,
and for Mr.  Zigler 20 years.  I will deal with the boys a little later. 
The three of you are to be put up for bids as custodial slaves at a public
auction venue.  What that means is that I will be evaluating proposals for
your service from prospective buyers as well as the prices they are bidding
and will make a decision as to who should have custody of each of you.  For
you, Miss Clifford and you, Mr.  Duncan your time on the public auction
platform will be in two weeks time.  Mr.  Zigler will be auctioned within
two weeks of the day we have him back in custody."

   Ted Duncan stood rigidly and with ashen face.  Cheryl Clifford began to
cry.  The attorney representing Miss Clifford was on his feet.

   "Your honor", he began, "I would bring to the Court's attention that my
client is a single mother and sole source of support for two small
children, ages 8 and 11.  If she is sold into slavery who will care for
these kids?"

   "Miss Glenn", the judge responded, "have you done the required Family
Impact Study?"

   "Yes, your honor, my attorney prepared this study and determined that
Miss Clifford is indeed a single parent but that there are also two
godparents for these children as was required by law in order for Miss
Clifford to have legally given birth to them."

   "You understand, Miss Glenn", Judge Morelock continued, "that to comply
with the recently passed "Children Of Slaves" (COS) law, any sentence that
you impose must not deny a slave's children the love and comfort of being
with their mother, nor deny them a stable home life, the opportunity to
have an education at least through the 8th grade, to socialize with other
children to participate in extra-curricular school activities and to have
access to apprenticeship programs."

   "I understand your honor and with assistance of counsel have drafted
special conditions for her sentence that will keep it in compliance with
COS."

   "Go ahead then", the judge replied and settled back into his chair.

   "Miss Clifford, your punishment, like the others, will be sexual in
nature.  But there will be a special condition attached to your sale that
specifies that your owner must house you, with your children, only in a
licensed residential facility in full compliance with the COS law. 
Fortunately we have many such facilities here in New York State so there
should be no shortage of potential buyers.  The costs of all services
provided to your children shall be charged to their godparents."

   "Other special conditions on your sale are that you be worked neither
more nor less than 40 hours per week, that you be kept naked during all
your working hours except when doing so would conflict with public decency
laws.  At least 20 hours per week you are to be engaged in providing sexual
services to your owner or to the public, but may provide professional
services or receive professional training during the balance of your work
week.  You must be provided decent clothing whenever you are in your
residential quarters or otherwise in the presence of your own children or
the children of your fellow slaves outside of working hours.  You will be
spared any whippings."

   "We object, Your Honor!" the attorney for Cheryl Clifford loudly
proclaimed.

   "Your objection is noted for the record counselor.  Now let's move on"
the judge replied.

   "Special conditions for you Mr.  Duncan, are that you be kept naked at
all times except when doing so would conflict with public decency laws. 
Whoever buys you shall employ you for a total of not less than 50 hours per
week nor more than 60 hours, and that at least 30 hours of every work week
you be engaged either as a prostitute or engaged in hard manual labor or
both.  During the balance of every week your owner may use you for
professional, technical or skilled work if desired.  In addition, your
owner must bring you to the public whip master for a public whipping at
least once in every calendar quarter."

   Ted Duncan continued to stand stoically and his attorney made no move to
object.  "Special conditions for Mr.  Zigler are the same as those for Mr.
Duncan."

   "In your case Erin and your case Kim, the enslavement sentences are to
be six years, but I will retain ownership of you during that time, provide
you with rehabilitation services and place you in an apprenticeship program
where you will be taught a trade which will enable you to get on your feet
and earn an honest living at the end of your enslavements."

   I saw Erin tugging at the sleeve of the public defender who was
representing him and Kim.  The public defender rose to address the Court.

   "My client is concerned about his modesty, Your Honor.  Will Miss Glenn
permit him decent clothing during his six years of apprenticeship?"

   "You know better than to ask that, counselor!" the judge responded. 
"Since Miss Glenn is retaining ownership she will be free to decide such
questions when the time comes.  She is not required to commit to any answer
right now."

   "I prefer to give my answer now, Your Honor" I interjected.  "During his
apprenticeship he will learn and work naked at all times except where that
would conflict with public decency laws.  Erin needs to learn that modesty
is the right of free persons who have broken no laws.  It is not the
prerogative of slaves.  Also Erin will be receiving some therapy for his
sexual hang-ups.  Perhaps that will make the constant nudity at work more
bearable for him."

   "I have left you last Mr.  Jenkins.  Your enslavement will be for 20
years with the possibility of an earlier release date for good conduct
shown.  But you had a sexual motive for enslaving me.  Therefore your
punishment will be particularly sexual in nature.  I spared you the usual
punishment of castration given out to sexual offenders.  You are fortunate
that your employer, Greg Masterson, put in a word for you.  He wants very
much to have your professional services and has offered to buy you or lease
you from me.  I have agreed to the latter, but only on condition that you
are put through a compulsory sex treatment program to cure you of your
desire to rape innocent women."

   "I will retain ownership of you during the 20-year term of your
enslavement so that I can monitor your progress with the sex treatment and
make changes in your treatment regimen from time to time.  During your
enslavement, in addition to sex treatment, which will be provided through
the clinic at Masterson Automotive, you will also work full time for
Masterson Automotive in whatever capacity Greg Masterson may choose.  It is
possible that, if I am satisfied that you are cured of your evil desires, I
may free you from slavery long before the conclusion of your 20-year
sentence.  But that will be up to how well you do in treatment."

   I indicated that I was done with my sentences and took my seat.  Judge
Morelock then called on Edgar to announce his sentences for the banker
Morris Leland and for Ms.  Sally Rigers.

   "First", Edgar began, "your financial assets and personal property will
be seized in accordance with the law as previously explained by Miss Glenn.
Next you are both sentenced to enslavements under the chattel slavery law -
for you Mr.  Leland 20 years, and for you Ms.  Riggers 10 years.  Mr. 
Leland is to be sold at public auction.  A condition of his sentence which
any future owner will have to meet is that he be taken to a public whip
master once each month for a public whipping.  Ms.  Riggers is to remain my
property for the duration of her sentence or until I decide to sell her."

   When I heard Edgar say that I knew he must have been planning sexual
vengeance against her for all she had done to him, including her sexual
abuse.

   When Edgar took his seat Judge Morelock made this announcement:

   "You have all been sentenced in accordance with the law and the Court
will now proceed with the ceremony of the enslavements.  The defendants
will all remove their jail uniforms at this time and place such clothing in
the baskets provided.  Bailiff please bring in the equipment at this time."

   With that he banged his gavel.  This time they all complied promptly
with the judge's order to remove their clothing.  Even Erin didn't dare
make a run for it this time after the whiplash to his boyish buttocks he
had earned at the earlier hearing.  But I could sense from his muscular
tensions the seething anger he felt at this humiliation.

   Edgar and I were asked to take up positions near the east sidewall and
they were all commanded to kneel facing us with their thighs vertical and
well separated.  I had seen them all naked before but it was still a
pleasure to see them exposed in this way once more in a public courtroom in
front of spectators.  Morris Leland was hanging his head.  I think he was
embarrassed about the small size of his penis and the gray color of his
pubic hair that so obviously did not match the color of the hair on his
head.  Cheryl Clifford bore her embarrassment stoically.  Sally Rigers
looked like she was going to get even with somebody for putting her through
this.  She looked straight at Edgar as if to say he better watch his back.

   Six identical restraint fixtures were wheeled into the courtroom and
placed behind the prisoners that confined their six necks in side-by-side
yokes.  Then six instruments were rolled into place behind them all and
they were all ordered to look straight ahead.  Now they were all shaking
with fear.  Erin lost control of his bladder and soiled his slender thighs.
Giant hypodermic needles were positioned at the backs of their necks.  Then
a sound as loud as a gunshot was heard while the six needles simultaneously
penetrated those 6 necks installing bio-implant slave control devices in
each of them.  Exactly what had been done to me six months earlier.

   Jenkins and Duncan were crying now.  I wished Zigler had been there as
well.  When they were released from the yokes they were barely able to
stand or walk.  Their knees were buckling.  They were frog marched out of
the courtroom and into a waiting van that would take them to a private
prison where I had made arrangements to board them until I could make
further arrangements.

   I decided to let Duncan and Cheryl Clifford have two weeks to recuperate
from last week's virtual crucifixions so they would appear healthy and
vital when I auctioned them off.  The boys and Jenkins I was not putting up
for sale but I needed time to make arrangements for them.

   Judge Morelock banged his gavel indicating that today's proceedings were
complete.
   

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