The day started early for Maria. She'd been awakened at 2:30 a.m. with a blast of icy cold water from a hose wielded by one of her jailers. She jumped up from the floor, moving her naked, defenseless body into the corner, cringing there as if to protect herself. The burly jailer just laughed, directing the forceful spray at whatever part of her body her hands weren't covering at the moment. She finally slumped down onto the floor in defeat, allowing the stinging spray to focus on her face, her breasts, and finally her cunt. It was the closest thing to a shower she'd had in the past three weeks.
"Off your ass, cunt! Time to go get sold," one of them announced, laughing.
It didn't take Maria long to realize the plea agreement had been a bad idea. After the world financial crisis of 2008, crime had risen drastically. Through the slow economic recovery, the public understandably became tired of youth gangs with no regard for life or property running rampant. Laws were quickly changed, with lengthy prison sentences possible for children as young as eight years of age. This brought its own set of troubles, as both minors and adults began receiving longer and longer terms of incarceration, resulting in every prison and jail in the nation bursting at the seams. It was not unusual to find facilities built for 500 inmates holding five or six times that many. Alternatives to traditional incarceration had to be found.
Among the most popular and common of such alternatives was slavery, though it wasn't called that. Slavery was still technically outlawed by the U.S. Constitution, but the Supreme Court had long ago decided that slavery, per se, was defined as an involuntary state. It was possible, the justices said, for an individual to relinquish his or her rights as a person for a specific length of time. During that period, this non-person would be owned, either by an entity or another individual. However, in recognition of the time limit on ownership, a few (very few) restrictions were imposed.
First, while the slave's owner could do virtually anything he or she wanted to the slave, anything result in death or significant injury would result in immediate freedom. Of course, freedom didn't matter to a dead slave, and it was up to the courts to determine the definition of "significant injury." To date, no such determination had been made. Second, there was a requirement that a slave be provided an appropriate amount of food and water, reasonable access to hygiene, and medical care as appropriate. Again, the stipulations were intentionally vague, and no court had yet defined any of these terms, even in the numerous incidents of slaves dying from starvation or disease.
The evidence against Maria had been clear-cut; she'd been caught holding narcotics for her boyfriend, and the minimum sentence for such a crime was 40 years in prison. With parole having been abandoned decades earlier, she'd be well into her mid-50's before she ever had an opportunity to see freedom again. No more family dinners, no more parties, no more designer clothes.
Then her attorney came to her with the offer: In return for a guilty plea, the District Attorney would stipulate to fifteen years of servitude. If she accepted the plea agreement, she would in effect become the property of the state — not much different than incarceration, actually. The difference was that she would then be either auctioned off or sold outright, with the buyer becoming her owner for the term of her servitude. During that time, she would have no rights, not even recognition as a human being, and could be forced to do anything and everything demanded by her owner. He also explained the restrictions set forth by the Supreme Court, intentionally failing to mention that no court had ever found the necessary circumstances to set a slave free.
When the offer was made, she told him she didn't want to do it; she'd seen what happens to sex slaves, and couldn't imagine herself ending up like that.
"Nonsense, Maria," he said reassuringly. "Not everyone ends up as a sex slave. Quite a few end up working in businesses or technical fields." True to a point, but only for males who already had such skills. Most females ended up as sex toys, with the only significant exceptions being those who were purchased by their parents or families, then released. Believing her attorney, she agreed to the plea agreement.
The first thing that happened — since she was now property of the state, and not a prisoner — was that she was moved from a normal cell to one in which slaves were kept. Unlike her former cell, which had a bunk with a mattress, a commode unit with running water, a steel table hanging from the wall and a stool upon which to sit bolted to the floor, her new accommodations consisted of nothing more than an empty concrete room, just three feet wide and seven feet long, with a drain in the floor. There was no ventilation; the solid steel door had just two openings: a thick lexan window at eye-level, and a small, locked hatch at the bottom. The floor was covered with a copper grid; electricity could be selectively applied through the grid to force her to any location in the tiny cell. The constant lighting was supplied by florescent tubes embedded in the ceiling, which bathed the cell in a bright, harsh glow. A video surveillance system provided a constant view of the cell's interior to anyone with an internet connection and the desire to watch.
Slaves were not permitted clothing while in the jail; it was considered a waste of money, since most prospective purchasers who used the video system to view the current selection of slaves wanted to see exactly what they would be getting. With few exceptions, they were made available for sexual use by jail staff and visitors as well.
Maria, of course, knew nothing of this; she simply saw a way to trade 40 or more years of her life for fifteen. Therefore, it was understandable when, after signing the plea agreement in the judge's chambers, he ordered her to remove her clothing and kneel. That she fought made it only more enjoyable for all three men present. Her public defender, who had wanted to pleasure himself with the dark-haired beauty's body since the moment he laid eyes on her, was the first to lash out with his fist, doubling her over with a blow to the belly, while his prosecution counterpart grabbed her arms from behind. Nonplussed, the judge looked up from behind his desk and calmly told her that she'd been given her one and only opportunity to submit voluntarily. Reaching into his desk, he pulled out a thick leather collar and showed it to her.
"This is an obedience collar," he said, fastening it around her neck as the two attorneys bent her forward at the waist. With a solid click, it locked in place. The judge then held up a small device which didn't look much different than a pager.
"Jail policy doesn't provide for positive reinforcement for appropriate behavior, only negative reinforcement — some might call it punishment — for disobedience. Your little outburst earned you a taste of this," he said, pressing the red button on top of the small device.
Maria's mouth immediately opened in a silent scream, her eyes bulging as her hands shot up to the collar, trying frantically to pull it off. Her attempt was futile, however; the steel locking mechanism was impossible to remove. She fell to the floor, covered in perspiration, gasping for breath. The judge allowed her to remain there for a full minute before releasing the button.
"That was the minimum setting. Now, unless you would like another taste at a higher level, I suggest you get that jump suit off and crawl over here between my feet like I told you," he growled, holding the remote up as a warning, his thumb hovering over the button.
Sobbing, Maria's shaking hands grasped the Velcro fastener at the front of her garment, ripping it open and exposing her otherwise naked body. Prisoners, she was told when she arrived, weren't permitted underclothing. Too many attempted hangings by brassiere straps, they explained. So, she wore nothing under the hunter orange jump suit.
Still crying, she pulled her legs out of the uniform and rolled onto her knees, crawling towards the judge. Tears were falling freely now, her sobs becoming wails as her first abuser moved his feet apart, exposing the nakedness under his robe.
"Ever suck cock before, bitch?" he asked, grasping his throbbing member in his fist, pointing it at her. Maria shook her head no. The judge's fist smashed down on the back of the kneeling girl's head.
"You answer when you're asked a question, cunt! Nobody can hear the air rattling around in that empty head of yours! Now, fucking answer me, bitch! Have you ever sucked a cock before?"
"No," Maria sobbed, her answer rewarded by another fist, this one to the side of her head.
"Get this through your thick skull, stupid!" the judge screamed, "The first word out of that dickhole in your face is 'Sir, ' and you answer in complete sentences. Now, try it again, moron! Have you ever sucked a cock before?"
"Sir," she sobbed, "I've never ... never ... sucked a cock before," she answered, her voice trailing off. The judge already knew the answer. She'd fucked her boyfriend twice, but never took his cock into her mouth, telling him it was disgusting.
"But you'd like to, right?" he said, displaying the remote control again. "In fact, you want to suck my cock right now more than you've ever wanted to do anything in your pathetic life, right?"
"Sir, your ... cock ... sucking your cock is what I want to do more than anything else in the world," she stammered, the fear on her face belying the words from her mouth.
"Well, since it's you first time, why don't you crawl over here and get acquainted. Just nuzzle it a bit. That's it, rub your face all over it. Now stick your tongue out and lick my balls a bit."
Maria was mortified. The only penises she'd ever seen were on her little brother, when she changed him as a baby, and then her boyfriend. They'd only had sex twice, and she'd never seen one this close. The judges heavy balls sagged under his drooping cock, and the smell was unlike anything Maria had experienced in her young life. She trembled as her tongue tentatively lapped at the wrinkled scrotum. The taste was awful!
"Like that?" the judge asked sarcastically. "Sorry for the flavor — actually, I'm not sorry — but I just had another young cunt in here. She got off with probation ... and an ass fuck. I guess I forgot to clean up afterwards, huh?"
The two attorneys guffawed at Maria's distress as she tried unsuccessfully to keep the contents of her stomach down. Fortunately, meals in the jail were quite small — breakfast today had been a half cup of cold oatmeal — so there wasn't much of a mess. That didn't stop the judge from rubbing her face in her own vomit, like a dog who crapped on the floor.
"You're fucking lucky you're not trained yet, cunt, otherwise you'd be eating that mess you just made!" he yelled as he smashed her face into the acrid, watery mess. Holding her head down with his hand on the back of her neck, he spoke to the two men who were standing with smiles on their faces. "Give her a taste of her future," he said, just as she passed into unconsciousness.
When Maria awakened, she found herself in her new accommodations, shivering from the cold. She felt wetness and pain between her legs. Checking herself with her hand, she brought it to her face and saw the sticky remains of the spunk her lawyer and his colleague had deposited in her. She could feel it seeping out of her ass; none of her holes had been spared violation while she was unconscious. She could do nothing but lay on the floor and cry.
Her bout of self-pity wasn't to last long, however, as a voice spoke to her over the speaker embedded in the wall.
"Stand at the back of your cell, ankles and palms against the side walls," the tinny, distorted voice commanded. When she didn't immediately respond, an electric charge activated through the floor electrodes caused her to jump to her feet, screaming.
"Stand at the back of the cell. Place your ankles against the wall. Place your palms against the wall," the voice repeated calmly. "Once you have assumed the appropriate position, the shocking will stop." Once her body was positioned as directed, the voice continued. "Maintain your position. If you move your hands or feet, you will be shocked again." Maria trembled, sweat pouring from her naked, defenseless body as the cell door slid silently open. Standing in the doorway were two of the largest men she'd ever seen. They were dressed in solid black, their pant legs bloused over the tops of high, military-style boots. No part of their bodies were visible; black balaclavas covered their heads, mirrored goggles over their eyes.
"On your knees and crawl to the door," one commanded. "Don't worry, we've turned the floor off," he assured her, holding up a wrist upon which a large, electronic device was strapped. Maria timidly moved her hands and feet away from the wall and knelt down before slowly crawling towards the men. As she reached the door, one clipped a leash to the collar around her neck. It wasn't particularly necessary, but years of trial and error had found that the leash and collar combination was an effective tool in the dehumanizing of a new slave.
She was led, still on her hands and knees, down a long, wide hallway lined with cells not dissimilar to hers. They finally stopped at a locked room at the end of the hall. With a touch of a button on the first man's wrist device, the door slid open and the three entered.