Public Pillory 1 The act and sentencing
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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."
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Gay MaleThe private strip-show I’d done for Dick had left me with a sore arse but a full purse. That same weekend, I’d agreed to do an extra Sunday afternoon show in the Farringdon Arms to help out one of the other girls and I was a bit worried that my bum might still be bit sore after the bashing it had received on Friday. But I rubbed plenty of cream around it on Saturday, and by the next day, I found I could sit down without wincing too obviously.There was quite a good crowd of locals in for the...
Strap-On SexFather Lester finished his last confession early. There were no more high school kids waiting except for two who always waited for Father Leary. Lester went to the rectory meaning to stop by Father Leary's office to pick up some papers that Leary had asked him to look at for him. When the thirty year old priest entered the outer office he noticed a pretty young girl sitting patiently on a bench. "Good afternoon Father Lester." Young Jill Ebber said with a sweet smile on her face. "Good...
Sabrina wasn't sure which throbbing she wanted to quite more – the throbbing between her legs or the throbbing in her head. For two consecutive weeks now she had awakened with a vicious headache, which today had progressed in severity. Yet, despite the pounding in her head, she still got jittery between the legs watching that tall dark delicious man pass her desk. His name was London and his ass looked like it was built from stone. Every time she saw his baldhead she thought of how much she'd...
**********************Mike and Lynn freshen up and get into bed. Lynn decides to take a shower. She changes into a pair of satin pajamas with a button top and short bottoms that reach just under the curvature of her ass. Mike is nude. She slides over next to her husband lying on her side facing him. She places her hand on his abdomen lightly caressing him.Lynn is surprised she doesn’t feel any guilt or regret about fucking another man in front of her husband. There are only the residual...
Wife LoversMy unnoticeable eighteen-year-old niece transforms into a bitch on heat by twenty-one.City parking had got beyond ridiculously tight. My hip-pocket nerve wasn’t coping since my return from overseas with a job with all the extras thrown in-like parking. It was either find a cheap private car parking space or use the insanely long journey on public transport.I got lucky through a friend of a friend. There was a private cash only, avoiding government taxes; possible parking space available at a...
Note: The last photo shoot detailed below between Kerry and Patrick was real, and the photo above one of the results. We sincerely hope the Private Investigator wasn’t real. Markus attended to his preparations with meticulous attention: batteries were loaded, lenses cleaned and packed, listening devices prepared. His work was his passion, and he didn’t accept anything less than perfect. He worked under the most challenging conditions to get that perfect shot – more so than any normal...
VoyeurChapter 1:Christine couldn’t believe her luck. She was now on her way to the private club, in a limo no less.It had only been Tuesday that she had gone out to a movie with Cassandra. That in itself seemed rather strange, but they had both gotten along well while working on a school project together. Working together wasn’t exactly correct either, as Christine did most of the work. Christine knew that was just the way it worked with rich girls like Cassandra, they always got their way. They...
Ryan's Privates By Debbie L. Ryan Jeffers had a problem and it was a big one, big in more ways than one, although he himself wasn't very big at 5'7 and 140 pounds. The big problems began with the big woman at home, also known as Mrs. Patricia Jeffers. She'd grown tired of Ryan's refusal to do as she asked and come home right after work. He preferred stopping at the local bar, having a few brews with his buds and coming home when he damn well pleased. Since he was the primary...
Private Internment DAY ONE Making a decision I slid the vehicle over into the automatic lane and tried to relax. In theback seat Martha and Linda were sitting quietly, looking out the side windows.Some color had returned to their faces and their expressions were ones of bothconcern and relief. Concern over their future and relief from the fact thatthe last two weeks were finally over and they were out of the legal system.They are both former coworkers that I had known for a number of...
I'm Matthew, a 25 year old popular math teacher at St Edwards high school in England. This high school differs itself from other schools: it's a girl only school, meaning all the students are girls. Let me tell you a bit more about myself. I'm standing at 6'1, meaning that I'm quite tall. I've got short dark blond hair which is folded backwards with gel and my hair is even shorter at the sides. I don't possess any kind of tattoos, neither piercings. I'm somewhat tanned, but not a lot,...
Bikini Beach: A Private Matter By Bashful Anya called her grandmother and told her the bad news. "We've had another incident, someone sprayed 'Silly String' inside a locker and ruined a girls leather coat." "Damn it! Of course, no one saw anything, right?" the old woman said. "Nothing. I told the girl we would replace the jacket but she said she wasn't coming back. I'm sorry grandmother, I don't know what else we can do." Anya was near tears. There had been many incidents...
What follows is the account of a woman, 27 years old, who won a competition thrown by an underground fetish club. Her highly unusual prize was to be given sole access to a specially cordoned-off section of dance-floor on a raised stage on the next fetish club night. Under this floor lay the second winner of this bizarre competition, an unnamed 37 year old man. The man was completely covered by the raised stage, except for his penis and testicles which were protruding through a tight hole in...
Private school (ch. 1-10)ArrivalThe buildings looked stayed and full of tradition. Anne liked them and the park surrounding them at first sight and was even happier she had taken this job at the small 6th form boarding school rather than the one at the state school she had been offered, too. She followed the driveway round the building until she found the staff parking lot. Although it was the last day before the start of the new term there were only half a dozen other cars and she found space...
A young woman dressed in snug military attire stood before me. Her posture was ram-rod straight, with breasts thrust outward, trim stomach pulled in, and eyes focused above my head. She was at full attention, and deadly serious in her demeanor. But despite all that, I couldn't help but notice how strikingly beautiful she was. Her uniform clung to her figure deliciously, accenting every curve of her womanly figure in snug camouflage. On her head, was a green cap tilted just slightly off-center....
It's early about 8:00 I wake up to the sun just peering through the bedroom window. I turn over and see Holly isn't there. I leave the room in my boxers and walk to the bathroom where I see Holly leaning over the sink washing her hands. She's wearing a bright red vest top, that's tight around her body and pink panties. Even if im not fully awake my cock sure is. She looks at me in the mirror and smiles at me as she says good morning. "morning." I say as I walk up behind her and place my...
I never thought I would take a job like this one. I was shy by nature, especially around girls. But, as a freshman in college, I was dirt poor. And, because of my workload at school, I needed a job where I could work few hours and get the most money. One of my new friends in my dorm was a girl named Nancy. I told her about my predicament one night and she said she knew the owners of a club just outside the city which featured male dancers. I was not a very good dancer, but I had been on the...
ExhibitionismMy name is James Hyperion. The year is 2030. I am ninety years old. I am dying. Nothing can change that fact. That’s okay because I am a man who has led a very fulfilled life. I was born in Atlanta, Georgia, in the year 1940. The eldest son of a poor African-American family. Nevertheless, I did fairly well for myself. I won a scholarship to the Georgia Institute of Technology in 1968 and graduated in 1972 with a degree in engineering. Ten years later, I started my own company, Hyperion...
The two Texans follow the hot blonde wife into her marital bedroom. Standing by the king-size bed, she turns to Chuck and his friend and asks, “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”“Lynn, this is Tommy.”Lynn gives him a deep kiss, pushing her tongue in his mouth. He opens her negligee and caresses her hip around to the globes of her ass. Breaking their kiss, she says, “And I’m Lynn. Welcome to Northern Virginia.”Mike’s wife turns and gives a deep kiss to Chuck, their tongues intertwining. He...
CuckoldAs a carefree high school senior, Dylan was known for his athleticism, congeniality, and good looks. He had it all. He could have had any girl he wanted, of course, although he only dated Daisy McLaren. She was his sweetheart since their sophomore year. She loved Dylan as much as he loved her.They married soon after graduation in the summer of '43. Their honeymoon year was cut short when things abruptly changed. Dylan found himself living in a new place wearing different clothes and he even...
Love StoriesLynn sat back on her side of the couch. Chuck asked her, "After you bend over and flash what do you do next?" "Well, I shift my position until I am sitting like this." Lynn sat with one of her legs on the floor and the other on the sofa. The effect was to put her pussy on display. Mike really liked it when she did this. To heighten the effect she held her wine glass in her right hand and put the other on the back of the couch. "So what do you think so far?" Chuck just stared in amazement. Even...
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