The year was 2013 and unemployment was over thirty percent and unsecured debt was outlawed. Many people, especially recently single women like myself, were in debt beyond their ability to ever repay. The state senate had quietly passed laws to protect their friends the bankers, and the governor had signed those bills so that he would continue to get their support. The new law also provided for a "debtors prison", and had established the court system, and paid the judge I was now standing before. I was wearing only the rags they provided, that ironically would have lead to my arrest if worn on the street for indecent exposure. I was also plastic strap cuffed wrist and ankle, the former behind my back forcing my unrestrained breasts out through the holes in my thread bare "uniform", and my ankles fastened to a ring bolted to the dirty floor. There was no jury of my peers, or lawyer for my defense, as both of them would have to be paid, and I was here because I couldn't pay! I would have protested my treatment, except for the disposable bit gag in my mouth, ensuring my silence and adding to my humiliation...
...It was only a week ago that a representative of the credit bureau had knocked on my door in the company of two of their more intimidating security employees, and told me I either had to pay them right now, or I would have to come with them. When I told them to get lost they forced their way into my apartment, and cuffed me wrist and ankle in mere seconds. The credit guy showed me where I had signed their deceptive contract at the bottom of my bill, and I was hog tied and gagged on my cold kitchen floor as several moving men came into my place and emptied it out. They stepped around me with little regard, and in no time my place was empty, including my clothes from my closet, and even my shoes!
The credit man, with scanner in hand, told me I was short at least fifty thousand by his calculations, and wanted to know where I had hid it. I shook my head because he couldn't understand my attempt at gagged speech, or so he claimed. They took the food out of my cabinets, the dishes out of my sink, literally everything except the clothes off my back. When the credit guy asked the movers if they got everything, one of them answered "almost", and looked to my bound body. I was only wearing my work out wear as I had been on my treadmill moments before I opened my door to the three men. Bids were taken for my tank top and little shorts, both sweaty from my work out and my brief struggle with my captors. A high bid of ten dollars was reached, and my arms and legs were uncuffed, and my last material possessions were stripped from me and taken out of what used to be my apartment.
The credit bureau man walked to the door, but paused in front of me as the large men held my arms immobile. The wimpy little man looked my nude body up and down, and said under his breath that I still had more to give. I had an idea he wasn't talking about cash, but he didn't look man enough to collect that other kind of debt from me either. He must have been very insightful, because he told me with a wicked little smile that these men of his were private contractors, and I would have to work out some way of properly tipping them for their excellent service, and my trip to the holding cell.
I gave him a horrified look as I realized I was going to jail dressed, or more accurately undressed as I was! He also pointed out that I could ride to jail in the back of their van, or they could chain me to their bumper and drive very slowly through my old neighborhood as I walked behind! I decided right there I wouldn't say no to any method of compensation they wanted from me, even before they offered to "walk" me past my ex-husbands house on the way!
The little man left and I nodded my head when the large men asked me if we were going to have a lot of fun together. My wrists were cuffed over my head and a short strap was attached to the cuffs and slammed in what used to be my bedroom door jam. I was helpless, and the large intimidating men took me in a very rough tag team that left no place on my body untouched. It wasn't anything I hadn't done in the past, and I orgasmed several times despite my desire not to as I was tossed around like a rag doll and filled with their cum... I was gratefully transported to the jail holding cell in the back of their van, and it was dark out by the time they were done with me and marched me out to it, possibly preventing my neighbors from seeing my shame. I was nude and freshly showered when delivered to the jail, but sore all over from the good old fashion fucking I received from my captors...
...Back in front of the judge, waiting for him to pay attention to me, I recalled the rough interrogation my jailers subjected me to, all to find out where I may have hid the money they thought I had. I found out later they were entitled to a percentage of any money they helped collect, and it explain their cruelty. I spent several days longing for my speedy trial in the lower holding cells, where my pleas for mercy couldn't be heard no matter how much electricity my interrogators used on my most tender skin, all without leaving a mark. They either inserted an electrode inside of me, or grounded one part of my body and touched the others with a charged rolling ball on an insulated handle. After hours of repeated shocks and questions, I begged them to fuck me just so they would stop. I found out later they dressed in white lab coats so they could bill me for my "speech therapy" with them, the irony of paying for my own interrogation was not lost on me!
Since the sale of my possessions left me some fifty thousand short of my growing debt, I would be sentenced to debtors prison until I paid back all the money and interest I owed, plus court costs, all while earning three dollars a day in a prison factory. The judge told me he was sending me to a maximum security prison, not because of my behavior, but because I would be good entertainment for the lonely male prisoners! At three dollars a day I was looking at a life sentence, but at the hands of the horniest and nastiest guys there, it would likely be over quickly. My guilt was a forgone conclusion to the court, my only true purpose for being in front of the judge was for sentencing, and my humiliation at being made to stand there bound and nearly naked as I was in front of the spectators that I had yet to see.
I was spun around in place by a guard once my sentence was read, and to my horror I saw my ex-husband Steve and his new wife in the gallery. I was hoping he wouldn't hear about my financial meltdown, but now my humiliation was complete. The little man from the credit bereau was there as well, along with at least one former employer and several family friends. I realized the credit people must have contacted everybody who ever knew me, not to embarrass me, but to see if any of them would pay my debt off. The credit man made a speech to the gallery moments later saying his agency was only interested in recovering their money, and had no desire to see me go to jail and become the plaything of the roughest convicts in the state. It sounded like a speech he had made many times before, and he sounded less than sincere when he made it.
I stood there as the judge reminded us that there were others waiting to be sentenced, and that we had five minutes to work things out. The credit guy announced that the asking price was seventy four thousand dollars, and I realized I could possibly be saved from real prison by the mercy one of the people in the gallery. There was a collective smirk, and knowing smile from the gallery at my asking price, apparently my original debt was known, and the smirk was for the twenty something thousand dollars of "speech therapy" I had to endure. Nobody offered the asking price, and my former rude employer offered one thousand dollars for me to star in a movie he wanted to make. I saw Steve whisper something to his new younger wife, and she looked at me and giggled, and nodded her head. She used to be our maid, and at that moment I wished I had been nicer to her, even though she ended up taking my place in Steve's bed before our divorce.
Several strange men had low bid on me, but their obvious intentions left prison a serious option, not that it looked like I had any way to voice my preference if asked. Steve waited until there was very little time left and offered thirty five thousand for me, with what he called an "option" on the contract. The little man said "fifty" in a way that left me feeling it was as little as he would take. Steve was a hard bargainer and held up a check with his amount already filled in, and he told the little man that it was his final offer as he had not bought a second check with him. The two men stared each other down, but the little man had expected to do better with my sale as I was only thirty six and what most guys would call fit. The others in the gallery were unwilling to bid seriously against Steve, and I knew how intimidating he could be first hand, and apparently so did they now.
"Done" the little man said, and his smile was back as he realized his net loss was cut, even by this low ball sale of my rights. He knew sending me to prison would have lost his company thousands, as it would be unlikely that I survived long enough to repay them, and this last minute kind of deal was more common that anybody realized outside of the court system.
Julie, my former maid, collected me from the bailiff as Steve did the paperwork on the sale. The thick plastic tie cuffs binding me were to go with me, but the tattered rag of a uniform had to stay with him. The bailiff pulled the Velcro straps on the shoulders of the sleveless garment, and slipped it from my body once my tits popped free. I was then left completely naked, but still held in place for all of the gallery to see. The bailiff reminded Julie that I might need something to wear out to the parking lot, and Julie looked like she could care less what I wore, but had a brainstorm when she saw the large trash pail near the judges bench. She walked over to it and opened the lid to find a large black trash bag mostly full of half eaten lunches and spit out gum. Julie picked up the bag after she asked the judge if it was OK, and dumped out the garbage into the fresh bag at the bottom of the pail. The entire courtroom stopped what it was doing, clearly curious as to what the nicely dressed Julie was up to. Julie tore a small hole in the bottom of the mostly empty garbage bag she was left holding, and she pulled it over my head up side down, and covered my naked body with the filthy bag like sack dress without arm holes. I was covered to my ass with the most disgusting, cold, and sticky residue imaginable, and my hair was now also covered with the crap that settled to the bottom of the bag.
I knew then that I was in for hell with Julie and Steve, and that she had not forgot a moment of my treatment of her in the past. She told me quietly I was now considered an indentured servant, a legal form of slavery that cut down on prison overcrowding. She explained my rights were lost to the state for my crime of excess debt, and Steve just purchased them, and by extension me for half as much as her new car just cost. Julie said "Oh, are we going to have a lot of fun together". It occurred to me I had heard something similar at the start of the week, and I got fucked then too.
To be continued...
11.11.11