Enslavement
- 3 years ago
- 26
- 0
Unemployment took its toll. After approximately three months of not being able to make a mortgage payment or pay down any of my credit cards, unpleasant things began to happen. First, the finance company came and repossessed my car. I received notice from the bank that my home faced foreclosure if they did not receive at least two months payment by the end of the month. Charges had begun to appear on my credit card statement for merchandise I had never purchased!
Since I was a little girl, my favourite way to fight depression was physical activity. Cheerleading and tennis had done that for me in my high school and college days. Since then I had continued to play tennis and as a result, had remained physically fit. It didn't hurt also that I had competed in the Boston Marathon again this year, winning second place this time! My slender and toned body was one of the few things I could feel good about these days!
My ultimate nightmare began one day last June. I had just finished a game with Becky, one of my regular partners. My pulse rate was high. It was a hot day and I was feeling tired, as I towelled off the excess perspiration. But I was also exhilarated. I had won two sets out of three! Just then I saw a man I had never seen before on the tennis courts. He was a tall and very muscular fellow dressed in a business suit and holding a clipboard. He walked directly toward me until he was only a few feet away.
"Are you Stephanie Glenn of 301 Rosewood Circle?"
"All day long," I responded, somewhat flippantly.
"I am officer Fred Jones, official process server for the District Court for the State of New York. I am here to serve you with some legal papers, and I need a signature from you right here" he said as he thrust the clipboard at me.
"What if I don't want to sign this?"
"Lady, all your signature means is that you acknowledge receiving these papers from me. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. If you don't give us any trouble it may go smoother for you with the judge."
I made a conscious effort to breathe. With my fingers starting to tremble, I signed where he indicated, he gave me my copies, and I saw him walk back to the parking lot and drive off.
My eyes now began to focus on the document. In bold type right across the top it said "PETITION FOR ENSLAVEMENT OF DEBTOR".
Becky had walked up to stand next to me and also saw that heading.
"Why do they need your help with an enslavement proceeding, Steph?
"Give me a minute Beck." I had a dawning premonition about this.
"Is the debtor someone you know?"
My eyes had just landed on the block on the form where it identified the debtor whose freedom was now placed in jeopardy. It showed my name and my address. My voice was starting to choke up and my hands now shook uncontrollably.
"I am the debtor in question!"
"There must be some mistake! They have you confused with someone else!"
"There appears no mistake Becky. They have my name and address on the form, my correct date of birth, my social security number, my most recent employment, and a list of debts that appear to be mine. The plaintiff is some outfit called Richmond SlendaBond Ltd."
"Do you know this company Steph? Did you ever do business with them or borrow money from them?"
"Not at all. Never heard of them before."
"How can they do this to someone of your class Steph? I mean I have heard of bankrupt debtors being stripped of their freedom before, but normally it is only some guy or gal from the lower class. They don't have all the same rights we do you know! Surely you can fight this, can't you?"
"I hope so Beck. I surely hope so. I will try to find a lawyer first thing tomorrow." I became conscious that tears were now streaming down my face. I felt that I was slipping into a state of shock.
Of course, I had no money to pay a lawyer, but I applied at the Court Clerk's office and the Court assigned me a Michael Green. I had my first meeting with him a week later:
"Miss Glenn, you have asked me if, in my professional opinion, the plaintiff, Richmond SlendaBond Ltd, could actually take away the freedom of someone of your educational attainments and social class. While I cannot predict what the outcome of your particular case will be, I can tell you that there is a widespread misconception that it is only lower class debtors who can be forced into servitude. This is actually not the case."
"So you are telling me that I actually can be enslaved?" My heart was pounding.
"Indeed yes" the lawyer continued. There are no distinctions of class in the law when it comes to servitude proceedings. Anyone owing more than ten thousand dollars to a single creditor and unable to pay can be placed into bondage by the Court or a jury - male or female, young or old, prince or pauper."
"But you said Richmond SlendaBond Ltd was the plaintiff in this matter. Why don't they just take my property?" I wailed. "Why would they want to own me?" He smiled at me, apparently amused by my naiveté.
"Your lovely body would seem the most obvious reason, my dear! Those slender, well tanned, and lightly muscular legs of yours would give any man a desire to gain complete control of you!
I noticed where his eyes were focussed and I struggled with little success to pull my short skirt down. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind for his impertinence, but realized I had few options but to try to get along with him. I could afford no other attorney.
"Who is this Richmond SlendaBond?" I asked incredulously. "I never borrowed money from them. Why are they the ones coming after me?"
"They have bought up all your debt from your various creditors. They are now your only creditor. They are the parent company of Skelly Girl Enterprises, a prostitution service that is well known for catering to business and professional men. Does that answer your question?" I nodded my head. I again made a conscious effort to slow down my breathing as the implications of that sunk in.
"Can you defend me?" I pleaded. "Do I have a chance against these people?"
"Yes I can defend you" he replied in such a tone that I could only wait for the other shoe to drop.
"But I must inform you there is a high risk that we will not prevail. Petitions of this type succeed more often than not, since the debtor defendant always has the burden to prove that she or he should not be enslaved. That requires proving that she or he would be more of a financial asset to the creditor as a free person than if forced into involuntary servitude! In other words we would have to prove that the plaintiff is pursuing the case out of ignorance or for purely vindictive reasons. In your case young lady, with no job and no immediate prospect of one, we probably can't meet our burden, considered purely as a matter of law. But there is another way you might save yourself."
"Please sir, just tell me what else I need to do."
"We should ask for a jury trial. There will be 12 jurors. Since your freedom is at stake, they must vote unanimously, just as would be true for a criminal case."
"That sounds encouraging!"
"Yes, but you need to keep in mind that the burden of proof for the plaintiff is much less than in a criminal proceeding. All he has to do is show that you owe him more than ten thousand dollars, that you have no reasonable prospect for paying off that debt in a timely manner, and that the only way that he can obtain satisfaction of this debt is by taking possession of you!"
"You probably will lose your freedom as well as any personal property you may have. Better get your affairs in order now!"
"Surely there must be another way to beat this thing?"
"Yes but I hesitate to mention it because of the way you reacted when I stared at your legs a few moments ago."
"Whatever do you mean sir?"
"I mean that even if the plaintiff makes a perfectly adequate proof that he is entitled to take your person, you can still appeal to the sentiments of the jurors. They have an absolute right, under the doctrine of jury nullification, to set you free, regardless of the law or the evidence against you." It is simply a question of setting up a situation where they will want to give you your freedom."
"How do we do that?"
"By having you appear as sympathetic as possible to them. By having them identify with your fears and care about what will happen to you. We must make them want to free you! But this may well entail giving up quite a bit of your psychological privacy!" I wasn't sure I liked where this was going.
"Your trial won't be coming up for another two months, but there is a more immediate matter that we will need to tackle. A preliminary evidentiary hearing in your case is scheduled for next week. The purpose of this hearing will be to determine if the court should bind you over for trial. The plaintiff need only present plausible evidence that he is the sole creditor and that you owe him $10,000 or more. We can try to get the case tossed at this hearing but it is likely the plaintiff will prevail."
"What if I am 'bound over' for trial? What does that mean?"
"First it means we will have to argue for you to remain free on bail until the trial. Many young men and women facing the possibility of enslavement do have a tendency to flee the jurisdiction."
"But I have no money for bail!" By now tears were rolling down my face.
"I can try to get you freed on your own recognizance. There is a good chance the judge will go along with that since you are a professional person of good character. But then there is the matter of the "Creditor's Examination".
"What is that?"
"In the old days it meant that a debtor might be ordered by the court to submit all financial records to the creditor for his examination, and to give testimony under oath to the creditor concerning those finances. Now it means all of that plus the fact that the debtor, in this type of proceeding, is also ordered to present himself or herself to the creditor for an intimate examination of his or her person."
"Does that mean my b-body?" I had a growing premonition of utter shame ahead.
"Yes. You will probably find this examination most humiliating. In addition the plaintiff will make you testify under oath as to any evidence you have that might rebut his evidence at trial."
"But why does the law require this?"
"Because the creditor is entitled to make some advance assessment of what his chances of prevailing at trial would be and what you would be worth to him should the enslavement be successful. That could mean what price you might bring when exhibited naked on the auction block, for example. This advance assessment is useful in determining whether he should proceed with the case and spare no expense, or should perhaps consider cutting his losses by offering you some sort of long term payment plan in lieu of enslavement."
"And what about your fee? How much and how can I possibly afford it?" I practically croaked.
"You can easily afford my basic fee, and if there are extras we will work something out."
With that we ended our first meeting.
The following week we went before the judge. My attorney had me sit next to him at counsel table. I got my first look at the people who were trying to take away my freedom. When the judge called the case and asked for identification of the parties, I learned that the plaintiff's agent was a Bill Steelforth and that the man with him was the attorney for plaintiff. My attorney advised me that Mr. Steelforth was the owner of the William Steelforth Agency, a reputable slaver's agent.
My attorney was not able to get the case tossed at this preliminary, and I was bound over for trial on my own recognizance. The plaintiff asked that I be remanded to custody pending trial, but the Court ordered, instead, that I might be free on my own recognizance but must have an electronic tether device attached to my left ankle. This would make it easy for authorities to track me down should I attempt to flee the jurisdiction. I had never before felt so unfree as when the bailiff placed that device on my ankle, cinched it tight and locked it beyond my power to dislodge it. The judge had told me it was made of hardened steel so that it would be impossible to cut it off!
The hearing was adjourned. As my lawyer and I walked down the courthouse steps, he indicated that he had something on his mind.
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It was the summer before my second year of high school when I got a call from Darci Smith asking me to meet her at the high school the next day to help her clean out the costume room. Now Darci is the drama club teacher and the art teacher. Every guy in the school wants to fuck her and masterbates to her. Darci is in her early thirties, married, and looks like she is still twenty one. She has nice mid size tits, a fine ass, big blue eyes and blonde hair. She has a pert little hard body and...
"There's a man here to see you, Mr. Forrester; he says he's a detective from the Denver Police Force." Oh-oh, thought John. "Ok, send him in, Angela." "Hello, Mr Forrester; my name is Paul Donohue, I'm a detective from the Denver Police Force." "What can I do for you, Detective Donohue?" as I pressed the intercom so Angela could listen in discreetly out at her desk. "Well, Mr. Forrester, sometime last year I was handed a case in Denver that has us all baffled. It seems that two...
Copyright © 2003 This is an original work and as such is protected under the copyright laws of the United States. Please do not duplicate, copy, print, distribute or exchange this piece without the expressed written permission of the author. I was two glasses of wine into a bottle of crisp, dry cabernet when I spotted her trying hard not to look at me. It was one of those glances that shift way immediately, only to come right back again. By then she realized that she had been caught...
Chapter 1 Stephen sighed as he watched the world go by. "I still don't see why we have to move," he told his wife as he turned to look at her. "Because honey, the company is opening a new store in Stepford and they asked me to run it," Emily replied, not taking her eyes off the road. "Besides, the offer was too good to turn down and the house came as part of the job," Emily continued. "I'd thought that you'd be proud of me," she added. "And I am. Really," Stephen added as his wife...
I had been working in the construction industry a week when the foreman called me to his office. As I made my way over I wondered what I could have done wrong. As it had gone clocking off time I was annoyed that the meeting would be eating in to my free time. 'Aah, come in.' he said as I stepped through the door. 'Have a seat.' His office was much neater than I thought it would be. As I looked around the room I noticed that there were no girlie pictures like I had seen plastered up everywhere...
GayMeeting at Bedford MillsI had often thought about my friend Simone in the years since we had been at school together. After I graduated, I had moved to New York to pursue my career and with a husband and children, I had lost touch with Simone, but I knew that she had married a rich man whom she had met at college, and that they lived in Greenwich, Connecticut, but they had no children. I had also heard from other former classmates who had met her, that she had a glamorous lifestyle, with...
This is my fantasy Its 7:30 Saturday morning and I'm in my recliner sipping my morning coffee. I've been up about an hour. Long enough to do my morning things of getting showered and shaved. Had a small bite of breakfast. Now I can relax with my morning coffee, anticipating the coming day. Without really watching it I have Kali's favorite cartoon program on the TV. Upstairs on the second floor I hear the shower shut off and a few minutes later the voice of my wife call out, "Hurry up, we...
Mary Pilson knew that her ‘uncle’ Walter was grooming her. ‘Uncle’ was a silly term that Mary’s mother used to describe the men who moved into their home to take advantage. Mary had no time for her uncles; she saw them for what they were, parasites and users. Mary’s mother could hardly make ends meet working as an usherette at the local cinema. Her good looks, curvy body and long legs ensured that she was well tipped by the male customers but she also attracted the sharks. Mary mostly...
We’re cruising along a wide and quiet suburban street. Green lawns stretch back from the pavement to the nice semi-detached homes. There’s a slim woman walking a large dog along the side of the road, and we pan around to look at her as we pass – it’s no-one we know, but we kind of wish we did! Then we’re looking forward again – seeing an intersection infront of us ... Then pulling up, looking out of the side window right at a single story, flat-roofed building. A sign outside reads,...
September 1981, Milford, Ohio Friday was routine until lunchtime. Afternoon classes had been canceled for both Elyse and me because of the Labor Day weekend, so I drove back to the apartment instead of having lunch on campus. Elyse and I packed our overnight bags and waited for Kathy and Bethany, who arrived as planned, and we left Chicago just before 4:00pm. It was my goal to make the trip to Milford in just under five and a half hours, which I could do if we grabbed fast food on the way...
It was the electronic chirp of a cellphone text message that first stirred Peggy Sanford from a state of excessive alcohol and strenuous sexual activity induced sleep to a state of semi-conscious awareness. The first thing she recognized was that she was not the only one lying in the bed. She felt the warm embrace of a delicate arm draped across her chest, a set of soft full breasts pressing up against her back, a smooth hairless pelvis nuzzled up against her buttocks and a tone fit leg...
Author’s Note: These stories are a continuation of member/author Walterio’s excellent 12 part series, Peggy Sanford a Worldly Woman and his extra story Peggy Sanford and the Secret Society. After I read his stories all I could think was ‘That was hot! I wish I was her.’ Walterio wrote these in response to member/author Peggy46’s invitation to anyone to continue or add to the stories that she wrote about herself and her wild sex life. I tried to fill in enough background information to make this...
“Thank you ... Zax”. A middle aged woman with a combed black hair and a bit of weight around her waist walked toward him with hands down and holding one another. “You shouldn’t, Mrs. Inoki “. Zax shook his head. The woman was the mother of his childhood friends, Weysey Inoki. Mrs. Inoki came to stand beside him, but her view was on the large group of children having the time of their life fighting the living snowmen. “Our home is at the periphery of us, newcomers’ huts. The hut next to us...
Through her wide open legs she watched the last drops of her morning piss cling to her silky blonde pussy-hair, then drop into the bowl. She stretched and yawned, willing her reluctant body awake. "Mike?" she called. "Yeah?" her husband answered, pushing the bathroom door open. "Well, aren't you a pretty sight?" he said. "Look, who's talking. You look as bad as I feel," she said with a smile. Her husband was naked except for a towel around his mid-section, his flaccid...