Celebrity to Penal Slave

The story is set in the same near-future universe as my Penal Slavery series set in an alternate world where criminals are sentenced to terms of slavery rather than jail or prison per se. Because this is Literotica, there is a lot of sex. No rape or violence, reluctance at worst.

I thank those of you who will give the story a read. I value your feedback. Special thanks to fellow author Carl Bradford for his insightful comments. Look him up, you won't be disappointed.

If you enjoy this story, then try the Penal Slavery and Mom and Daughter Face Penal Slavery series, along with Office Servitude and Visit to the Lodge set in the same universe. Readers will see a character mentioned in both Office Servitude and Visit to the Lodge. While it would be helpful to read them, it is not at all necessary.

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"The Court understands that the government and the defendant are proposing the following sentencing agreement. The defendant, having previously pled guilty to conspiracy to commit wire fraud, will be subject to two years penal servitude with all but two months held in abeyance with resultant loss of all citizenship rights for the same period, commencing four months from acceptance of the plea and after the administration of five lashes to the back and buttocks only. The Defendant would report to the jail for administration of corporal punishment and processing. From there the state will agree to a private sale to the Harris Foundation, a charitable organization, and the Defendant will volunteer an additional 1500 hours of service to that organization after the end of her servitude,"

"That is the agreement your Honor, " confirmed the prosecutor and Lori's lawyer standing beside her. Just a few more minutes and she can go home and put this awful day in the many months of horrible days behind her. It had terrified her she and her husband Louis were charged in this state that practiced penal servitude rather than their former home in California. But this was where the elite college she and he had schemed to get their daughters admitted to was located.

When it became obvious that there was no way out, they sold their Hollywood home and moved here. Louis could run his software design firm from anywhere, and the college has allowed the girls to remain enrolled so long as they continue to meet academic standards.

It was a surprisingly straightforward decision. Her Hollywood career was in ruins. She had been told by her agent that she might have some options when everything blew over, but not to expect anything soon. If ever. At least she didn't drop her, Lori thought to herself. The judge resumed speaking.

"I have many, many letters of support from some rather famous people along with the humble apology of the defendant, all of which I find to be credible and sincere asking me to approve the agreement despite it being a sharp downward deviation from the guidelines. Ms. Palmer?"

This wasn't in the script, "Yes, your Honor?"

"Here you are an admired, successful, professional actor with a long-lasting marriage, two apparently healthy, resilient children, more money than you could possibly need, living in sunny Southern California -- a fairy tale life. Yet you stand before me a convicted felon. And for what? For the inexplicable desire to grasp even more. To have whatever prestige and instant gratification that comes from being able to show off the admission of your daughters to a preferred university."

Lori hung her head. He was right. She deserved this extra bit of humiliation. The judge continued.

"While this is punishment, It's not enough. I understand that the state's case had issues, which no doubt motivated such a generous offer. The fact remains that you and your husband elected to plead guilty. Those in the legal community understand. The public doesn't. The agreement is rejected. This also voids the plea agreement. Counsel, my chambers to discuss trial dates. Court stands in recess."

With that, the judge rose and strode from the bench.

"Lori, stay here. Let me find out what is going on, " her lawyer said before heading to the door the judge exited through.

Lori was stunned. She sank into her chair. She could hear the bailiffs firmly dissuading the relatively few reporters who attended the sentencing hearing from getting to her. For which she was thankful. She wished Louis was with her. His hearing was tomorrow, and he was frantically trying to wrap up his business affairs before he was unavailable for four months. The plan had been for him to serve his term immediately and she would do her time after him so at least one of them would be available to their children.

Fifteen minutes later the DA and her lawyer exited from chambers, both looking grim. He sat down next to her and leaned over, whispering.

"This is highly irregular. The judge told DA Geitner that he would not let the state save face for bringing a weak case this far. While he could understand not wanting to risk twenty years of enslavement, the fact remains that as far as he is concerned, it looks like the Court is allowing the wealthy and privileged to buy themselves out of the consequences of the same type actions that the state is saying is criminal,"

"If we go to trial and lose, we'll be enslaved till our seventies. You said an acquittal wasn't certain."

"Right. The judge offered an option. For both of you. Three years enslavement, all but one year held in abeyance. Ten lashes. Public sale subject to state reserve. Community service is the same. Imposition of sentence today."

"What about Louis? The girls?"

"Same deal as you. The judge was unimpressed by the argument that a parent had to be available to take care of a nineteen and a twenty-year-old. He did allow Louis to schedule his hearing in four months. His lawyer was there via telepresence."

Lori was in shock. How could this be happening, " No other options?" she managed to get out in a croaked whisper.

"No. If we do this, you would be just one of several auctioned today. You stand a lot less chance of spending your servitude owned by some stalker fan."

"Do we know what Louis thinks?"

Her lawyer looked at his wristcomp, "According to his lawyer, he is OK if you are,"

She took a deep breath, prayed for strength and nodded her head.

Her lawyer got up, walked to the prosecutor and whispered in his ear. Both nodded to the court clerk, who typed on her wristcomp.

As she had turned her eyes to follow her lawyer, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that the courtroom had almost emptied. Oddly, the two bailiffs were locking the doors. Walking back towards the bench the older of the two boomed out.

"ALL RISE,"

"Counsel, I believe you have something for me?"

"Yes, your Honor, your clerk was kind enough to print the revised agreement,"

The clerk handed a sheet of paper to the bailiff standing next to her who in turn walked it over to the DA, who looked at it, signed it and passed it to her lawyer, who scrutinized it, signed it and passed it to her. She glanced at it and signed it at the spot above her name and pushed it back to her lawyer, who handed it to the bailiff that Lori realized for the first time was standing behind her.

Lori watched the uniformed woman walk the paper that would soon change her world to the bench and hand it up to the judge.

"The defendant will stand."

Lori got to her feet. Her lawyer did the same. Looking down at the document, the judge spoke.

"The Court has been presented with a revised sentencing agreement. The defendant, having previously pled guilty to conspiracy to commit wire fraud, will be subject to three years penal servitude with all but one year held in abeyance with resultant loss of all citizenship rights for the same period, commencing with acceptance of the agreement by the defendant and after the administration of ten lashes. The Defendant will immeadiaely be taken into custody for administration of corporal punishment, processing, and public sale on the courthouse block. Price shall be subject to a reserve determined by the State. During the two years of suspended enslavement, Defendant will volunteer 1500 hours of service to the Harris Foundation."

Ten lashes? Lori had not noticed that. She stood mute.

My lawyer nudged me and whispered, " state your name and tell the judge you accept the agreement like we practiced in the office,"

"I Lori Palmer, accept the agreement as stated, free of coercion and with full understanding of the consequences."

"The court, having previously accepted the guilty plea of the defendant, does find the Defendant guilty of conspiracy to commit wire fraud. From this moment, for the next three years, the Defendant is hereby enslaved to the State, subject to conditional manumission for two years, and deprived of all the rights and privileges of a free citizen. Bailiff, strip the slave. Counsel, please insure her personal items and clothing are returned to her family."

Lori and her husband had retained the services of a slavery consultant and had learned that newly enslaved criminals were normally stripped in open court upon pronouncement of sentence. According to the original agreement, this would have happened at the jail in four months. Not right now. Still numb, she felt her lawyer remove her wrist comp and whisper, "your rings too,"

On autopilot, she handed those over as well. She almost cried as she took her wedding ring off. She never took it off unless she had to for filming. Her lawyer put the wrist comp and rings in her purse.

"Earrings too, ma'am," the bailiff mumbled behind her. She managed to get the studs out and give those to her lawyer as well. She remembered the consultant warning her and Louis.

"Once the judge pronounces the sentence of enslavement, follow all directions and do not speak, complain or resist in any way. Speak only when spoken to and address any woman as "domina", and any man as "dominus."

"Remove all of your clothing now, shoes included, or I will cut them off. Do it now."

Thankfully, she had worn a tan business suit rather than a dress and pantyhose, Lori unbuckled her belt and let her slacks fall to her ankles. She removed her jacket and folded it across the back of the chair she had formerly occupied that the bailiff had moved to the side. She stepped out of her pants. The bailiff unclipped her bra, releasing her B cup breasts to the public for the first time in her life. Even after two kids, they were perky with only a bit of sag.

She shimmied out of her panties, exposing her bikini trimmed brown thatch shot with some streaks of gray for the first time outside of a dressing room, gym, or bedroom.

Her mind had detached from her body. She followed instructions like she would for a director on a set.

Kicking off her sandals, her bare feet stood on the carpeted courtroom floor. She started to move her highlighted hair from her eyes when the bailiff gently but firmly grabbed her wrists and cuffed her hands behind her back.

The cold, binding metal snapped her out of her daze. She focused on the judge

He was leaning over toward his clerk. Almost absently he said, "Bailiff, remove the slave from the courtroom."

The bailiff grasped her bare upper arms and directed her to the door in the wall behind the judge's bench. The other bailiff opened the door and stepped aside, allowing Lori and the court officer directing her to pass, and then she heard the door shut behind her.

The bare concrete walls and cold tile on her bare feet couldn't be more different from the well-appointed courtroom, with its rich wood paneling and thick sound deadening carpet. She was used to luxuriant sets hiding pedestrian backstage scenes, but somehow the dichotomy reminded her of her own situation. They had removed her expensive tailored clothes to reveal her middle-aged naked body for anyone who cared to look. She knew that she wasn't bad looking at all. She took care of herself and was far trimmer and firmer than women half her age.

Lori knew what she looked like naked from the daily perusals in the mirror that anyone whose appearance was part of their marketability performed. Her breasts had a little sag and were no longer the perfect cones of her youth. The curves of her lean frame had a bit more padding that no amount of exercise and diet had been able to banish. Clothing and makeup had hidden the signs of aging to let her maintain the youthful look Hollywood demanded. No tailored clothes for the next year. She might not have any clothes at all.

The officers pulled her to a halt in front of a metal door with a small window in the middle. Behind her she heard the bailiff say,

"Door 4, one for slave processing,"

A loud click came from the door, and it slid to the side. The escorts prodded Lori through and into a space, almost like an airlock on a science fiction film she had watched a while back, with another door at the end.

The door shut behind them with a thud and a click. Lori stepped forward a couple of steps. The voice behind her said,

"Release Door 5," Another click and that door slid to the right, except it gave a tiny screech midway.

"Maintenance has got to oil that track," the voice behind her muttered.

They directed Lori past similar closed doors till firm hands grasped her shoulders and turned her to the left to face a door labeled "Slave Processing."

This door slid open with no prompting, revealing the backsides of four people mounted in what Lori recognized as an enslavement station. Three each had a black "F" on their left butt cheek and a device was hovering over their right cheek, laying down what looked like a barcode with numbers under it. The fourth did not have the F, but her right cheek was being inscribed with the barcode and numbers. Standing to the left side of the machine was a tall, uniformed woman making entries on her wrist comp. She looked up at their entrance.

"Deb, what's... oh the add-on. Man, the judges are in a foul mood today or something. She makes the ninth one today. Well, shackle her up till Muffy is done with her barcode and I get her and the other's going away presents on. They are all for the Lodge, and you know how bitchy Betty gets if she has to wait. How about this one?"

"Public sale."

'That's a relief. Going to be awhile, Herman is so backed up the public is getting free samples from the holding pillories. Would you mind putting her jewelry on and keying it in? How many lashes?"

"Sure thing. And its ten public lashes, so I can't administer corporal punishment here or I would stripe her up for you. Judge O'Kelly is hearing some civil stuff for the rest of the hour, so Dave doesn't need me in the courtroom right now. So I can help till I need to cover Dave's lunch."

"Perfect. Let me get back to this."

"Or I could prep her and you could cover the courtroom."

"Nice try, Dave. You get the last two. Get on your way."

Lori heard a male chuckle and a, "Yes Sergeant, right away sergeant," as a door opened and closed behind her.

The bailiff walked Lori to a wall that had four areas with shackles at the top and bottom and stopped in front of the first one.

"Slave will spread her legs. Wider," the bailiff touched her wrist comp.

Lori felt her handcuffed wrists pulled against the wall with an audible thud. She couldn't move forward at all. The guard took a knee and wrapped the floor shackles around each of her slim ankles. She heard an audible click as the cool metal closed around each ankle.

The bailiff turned away from her and walked to a table with several packages on it. She opened one and drew a green strip out of it.

Returning to where she was bound, the officer touched her wristcomp. The cuff around her left wrist released.

"Slave will raise her left arm above her head,"

The officer wrapped the strip around her upraised wrist. The memory metal sealed itself snugly around her wrist.

The woman said," Lock left wrist," and the green shackle pinned her hand to the wall. He repeated the process with her right wrist except that he released the cuffs from what was holding them to the wall and removed the remaining handcuff before replacing it with the green wrist shackles that bound her arms to the wall like the handcuffs had done.

Her two ankles were first released one by one from the floor. Similar green strips replaced the floor shackles The difference was a restraint field kept her bare feet flat on the floor. She felt like she was standing in a bucket of cement but completely exposed.

The bailiff made one more trip to the table once her hands and ankles were encased and immobilized. The final green strap was noticeably bigger than the others.

"Slave will tilt her head forward."

Once she did so, she wrapped the band around her neck like she was giving her a medal. The band circled and fit itself snugly around her neck. The sensation reminded her of a snake she once held at a zoo moving across her arm. She yelped in surprise and tried to jerk away. To no avail.

"Steady!" she barked, "It can be an odd feeling. Just give it a second."

Lori started breathing fast. More than being stripped, handcuffed and led around, the sealing collar around her neck brought home the reality that she was in fact a penal slave.

"Deb, a hand here?"

Lori could turn her head and see that it looked like the application of the barcodes was completed on the quartet in the enslavement station. She saw a woman she recognized as the person who did her pre-sentence interview enter the room. Lori recalled her name was... Donna Carpenter. The woman stood in front of her and looked her over like a heifer at the market. Lori forced a smile.

"Hello Ms. Carpenter. I would shake your hand... ooooow," a stinging sensation radiated along her body like getting shocked by static electricity. Carpenter took her finger off her wrist comp.

"It's Domina Carpenter to you. You lost the right to make casual conversation with a free person about thirty-five minutes ago, along with your clothes and your name. I need to update your pre- sentence report to take into account your public sale. Before I start, a little advice. Slaves address all free people as 'domina' for free women and 'dominus' for free men. The plural is 'domina'. You are now a slave cunt indicating you are a female slave. Slave cocks are male slaves. You speak only when spoken to or given permission to talk. Understood?"

"Yes... Domina," Lori wondered to herself where the pleasant and sympathetic woman she talked to just a couple of weeks ago had gone.

"I will ask you a series of questions that a free woman would likely find embarrassing or even humiliating. I am running behind because the Judge threw me a curve just as much as he did you. In short, I have neither the time nor the inclination to coddle your soon to be barcoded ass. So answer me without prevarication or bullshit or find out how the higher disciplinary settings work. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Domina."

"It learns," she consulted her wrist comp, "two kids. Clearly not a virgin. How often do you have vaginal sex?"

"Err, one or two times a week."

The domina chuckled, "blow jobs?"

"Every now and then... Domina."

The woman made a note on her wrist comp, "you swallow?"

Lori almost protested but saw the woman's thumb edge toward the wrist comp screen, "no Domina."

"Ever done anal?"

"NO," Lori replied, perhaps a little loudly.

Domina Carpenter snorted," That's going to change. Taking it up the ass is part of the job description of a slave cunt. Because of all the free women who say no."

"Cunilingus?"

"No, Domina."

"Never been with a woman at all?"

"No, Domina,"

"Spanking, bondage? Been tied up?"

"No, ow."

Taking her finger off the wrist comp the woman said, "No what slave cunt?"

"No Domina."

"Better. Group sex?"