Chapter 3: Abe Cohen

Mr. Abraham Cohen returned the folder he was reading to his leather case and waited till the smartly uniformed female driver opened the door of his limo. He looked at the tear-stained lovely face of the young chauferette, very sexy in her leather mini-skirt. She was trying bravely to smile. She was also one of the few remaining women with a driving license. 'Some of the anti-feminist laws are downright stupid' thought Abe. All his company's drivers were female and beautiful. Well, actually there were no ugly, fat or old females under his employ. And his associates enjoyed having mini-skirted drivers opening the doors and being at their beck-and-call.

"How is your bum, Ann?"

"Very sore, Sir."

"Maybe it'll teach you not to be late next time."

"I'm sure it will, sir. I'll never be late again, sir."

"But to be sure, report to Miss Julie prior to driving me home. I expect you to be well stuffed up your behind with a ginger fig for our trip back."

"B-but, sir..."

Without waiting for her protest Abe passed the grand entrance of his domain. The huge bullet-proof glass door was held open by a massive guard in black uniform. The hall had been rebuilt and the only sign of the carnage was a golden memory plaque behind the receptionists' desk. Previously, Abe arrived very early at his office through an underground entrance where he could get out of his limo directly into the partners' private elevator. After the bombing he decided to inspect personally every day the restoration works and started to enter through the lobby just five minutes after the start of office hours. He maintained this habit long after the restoration was done.

As soon as he entered, the two receptionists jumped to their feet and made a curtsy to greet him. "Good morning Mr. Cohen."

"Good morning girls. You may return to your work." There were already half a dozen people waiting to be allowed to pass the tight security that protected Mr. Cohen's empire. After the bombing Mr. Cohen required a revamping of the security and started to use a tamper-proof badge himself. The badge opened the double-door access and Abe entered the private elevator which was waiting for him with the door open. A pretty uniformed elevator-girl greeted him with a curtsy and a "Good morning Mr. Cohen." She pushed the button to his floor on the top of the 80-floor building. The elevator was fully automatic of course, but a mini-skirted beauty driving it was a classy touch.

"Weren't you in the typing pool, Janice?"

"Yes, Sir. But I'm being punished with two months of menial jobs. Next I'll be on the cleaning squad and I'll end the two months as coffee-girl."

"What did you do?"

"Mr. Simpson complained that I wasn't properly enthusiastic during his morning dictation, Sir."

Abe was interested to hear more as the tear-stained face and the squirming of the elevator-girl told him that the demotion wasn't the only punishment that she had to bear, but the elevator arrived and his PA alerted by the security was waiting for him as the door opened. "Come to see me by the end of your shift, Janice, I want to check why Mr. Simpson complained."

"Yes, sir," piped the girl not happy at all.

Jane, a former model was ravishing in her mini-skirted uniform. "Good morning, sir. I will squeeze her between your 11 and 11:30 appointments. Ten minutes will do?" His secretary was efficient as always.

"Five will do Jane. I only want a quick BJ. Who is at 11?"

"Assistant DA Evers. It's about your custody petition. He will come directly from the court and probably will bring Judge Harrison's decision."

"Oh, I hope for good news. You will join us and serve Mr. Evers personally. I want him very happy."

"Of course sir." The beautiful face of his PA didn't show how she detested being called to serve the company clients. And Mr. Evers was short, fat and ugly and probably took a bath once a week. She writhed internally but maintained the external unconcerned appearance and her winning smile.

The Offer

Lea, Pamela, Bella and Dolores stood in line without talking and looking straight ahead waiting to be admitted to the interview room. The twelve long moths of incarceration taught them how to behave in a way to minimize the possibility of punishment. Mainly it was doing immediately what they were told to do and adopt the required stances and responses for every order from the wardens. But in this hell-hole even an angel wouldn't be able to avoid a beating from one of the sadistic officers, as their aching bodies testified. They had welts and marks from their shoulders to the bottom of their feet. From their faces to the palms of their hands. But the worse was the demeaning back-breaking senseless toiling on the road detail. Chained, clad only in a thin almost transparent prison-stripped cotton dress with no underwear they had to cut grass, break stones sweep the road exhibiting themselves to the passer-bys stimulated to work harder and bend farther by the snapping whips of the detail guards. After eight hours of almost non-stop toil under the sun most of the previously pampered females were ready to die.

The four ex-feminists didn't know why they were summoned for the interview, but any change in the tiresome and painful routine was welcome.

The door opened. "March in!" Shouted the guard. They marched as ordered. Behind the single desk in the middle of the room sat the chief warden himself. There were two additional empty chairs at his side. There were no chairs in front of the desk and the inmates assumed correctly that they were not invited to sit, so they stopped at attention in front of the warden.

"Girls, at ease. In a few minutes we will be joined by Mr. Abraham Cohen from the C&A. He will tell you why you are here, but you are entitled to know that under a new law intended to decrease the State prison expenses, private persons or companies can purchase a prisoner's sentence. Your sentences were purchased by C&A and you'll be transferred to his custody today. Any questions? Yes, Lea?"

Lea had raised her hand and only spoke when allowed. "Sir, have we any choice?"

"Yes. You can refuse to have your sentence transferred. But it would be a stupid thing to do. The transference is equivalent to a parole and you will be indentured to the purchasing person or company only to the lower limit of your sentence, after which you're free. On the other hand if you don't accept, you will have to serve automatically the full original time without a second chance."

The door opened to admit a distinguished gentleman flanked by two women carrying bags.

"Welcome Mr. Cohen." The warden's voice was greasy and obsequious. "Please sit down. These are the requested inmates. From left to right Lea, Pamela, Dolores and Bella." Each girl curtsied as soon as her name was called. "As you see twelve, or even six months at the Institute trains them to be polite and obedient." Mr. Cohen sat down. His companions took place behind his chair and stood at attention.

"Pamela and Dolores, we met before once in the court room during Mr. Lovell's trial. I don't believe that I had met previously Lea and Bella, but I saw your files and Bella's face had appeared of course in papers and on TV. And how have you been treated in the institute? Lea?"

"We have no complaints, sir."

"Bella, Pamela, Dolores?"

After the three inmates repeated Lea's statement, Abe said: "Girls, you are allowed to speak freely and won't be punished for anything that will be told during this interview. Mr. Warden?"

Warden nodded.

Lea took a breath and took the opportunity to speak. "Sir, we were told that you purchased our sentences. We were also told that we can refuse. Our life here is very rough, the Institute's rules are harsh, we get physical punishment almost daily and toil to do senseless tasks all day. Any alternative probably will be better, but could you please explain the situation?"