Civil Penalty Pt. 09

His tongue lashed me, probing my entrance with increasing firmness. He pulled my labia into his mouth and sucked hard before again giving me a gentle nip that set my world on fire. He intuited the rhythm I needed and soon had me poised on the very precipice. He worked me over so hard that I had to grip the table's edge above my head and hang on for dear life as the orgasm built and built. I'd had a lot of sex in the last four months as a sex slave, but even the most dominant of my so-called clients hadn't thrilled me like this.

The monster then teased me by backing off, and his licking became gentle, edging me as my unbearable tension grew. I whimpered with desire and mewled in protest at this cruelty, but he only chuckled darkly and repeated the process again and then again until I was a complete drooling mess. Then he drove his tongue in hard and took me completely over the edge. I literally howled as I exploded in pleasure. Waves upon waves of contraction enveloped my whole body as he continued to lash my nubbin with finesse, and I came, and I came, and I came.

My breath was slowly coming back to me, and I was still moaning and whimpering helplessly as I recovered from this monumental high when I felt his cock ram hard into my molten core, and I screeched again as he began to pound me in earnest.

"Oh, Oh! Oh, fuuuck! David, you feel so good. Ride me! Ride me hard."

And he did, long and hard: on the table, then again doggy style on the bed, and finally, when my mouth revived him enough for a third round (which amazed me for a man his age), he bent me over on my back on the bed like a pretzel and lay on top of me, kissing me with as much intensity as his pounding cock was imparting to my groin. I was well and truly fucked and knew I'd wake up wonderfully sore in all the right places in the morning.

When we were finally satiated, I opened another bottle of wine and sat between his legs as he lay back on the king-size bed. We caught up on each other's lives, and I filled him in on the latest legal details, including my upcoming naked trips to the courthouse and slave processing. I wished I knew what the latter was for, and I fretted. Was it to check compliance with my stipulations? Had they heard I was down to three sexual encounters a week and were unhappy? Were things going to go back to the way they were? This time, I didn't know if I could stand it if they did.

Stroking my hair, he tried to comfort me, "Beth, I can't escort you to slave processing, but if you give permission, I'd like to take the day off and be there for you at the Grand Jury hearing. Naked slave girls are very vulnerable in public, but no one will dare touch you if I'm there to escort you in my dress uniform," his voice turned into a growl, "and if they do, they'll soon fucking wish they hadn't."

***

Delano picked me up, looking every inch the stern military officer, and drove me to the Federal Courthouse in DC. I sighed, relieved to see the new company lawyer and my lawyer waiting for me. Delano pulled up to the curb and let me out. I quickly stripped and gave him my clothes before he sped off to park as close as possible.

I proffered my dreaded handcuffs, collar, and leash to the company lawyer. He represented the company, and they were still my owners, which gave him legal authority over me. He apologised, then ordered "Collar."

Obediently, I dropped to my knees, naked on the sidewalk, while he collared and leashed me. "Backhands," he ordered. I stood with my hands behind my back while he cuffed me, preventing me from protecting my little remaining dignity and making my subhuman legal status clear to everyone watching.

Only then did a couple of people standing nearby, watching me disrobe and be fitted with the accoutrements of slavery, produce cameras from wherever they had been hiding them. Flashes went off as I was photographed with full-frontal nudity. I froze like a deer in the headlights, bewildered and utterly humiliated. One of the photographers disappeared quickly, while the other handed a business card to my lawyer.

Given I was starting to draw an audience, the lawyers decided not to wait for Delano to park the car and hurried me inside. My lawyer showed me the business card he had been given. It was from the magazine, 'Defence Contractors Weekly'. Shit! That was all I needed; the entire defence industry would now see me, the CTO of Absconditus, naked, collared, cuffed, leashed, and humiliated. I wondered how on earth they knew I'd be there today. Who had told them?

We went inside to wait. The security guard manning the metal detector at the door forbade me to remove my collar, which, of course, set off the alarm. He grinned, "Stand still, slave; I need to check you." He ran his hands up and down my body while I could only smile submissively. He was especially careful to thoroughly check my breasts for 'hidden' metal, kneading them like dough in case anything was hidden inside.

He was about to start a cavity search when the new CLO coughed and stared at the man coldly before casting a deliberate glance at his nameplate as though carefully memorising it. The security guard caught the look, and his grin faltered, "Um, thank you, ma'am, you can pass through."

As we sat outside the courtroom door, Delano found us and held my hand as we waited. An hour later, I saw the commandant of Ski Pole Ranch emerge. He grinned at me as he passed, and I blushed as I remembered all that had happened there. Fifteen minutes later, we were summoned inside. Delano had to wait outside as Grand Jury proceedings are secret. I missed his comforting presence.

My lawyer and I entered, and I was escorted to the stand. For the next three hours, I was grilled repeatedly on every detail of my initial meeting with David Gillespie from the Securities and Exchange Commission and details of the stipulations demanded by the SEC. What followed next was a grilling over the details of me being used sexually by Gillespie, our CLO, and Colonel Jack Ryan at my enslavement. Finally, they wanted excruciating details of David and Jack helping to make me airtight at Ski Pole Ranch and everything they said during that encounter.

I watched as jury members eyed me or took notes and swallowed nervously, even as I blushed crimson in shame and embarrassment as I painfully recounted the sordid details.

Just as I thought we were done, a different lawyer appeared and grilled me over the recent committee meeting where they had tried to organise a gangbang at my expense. Eventually, the questions ran out, and my torment finally ended. I left feeling exposed and exhausted. Learning from his earlier mistake, my lawyer had me dress at the far side of the security gate before stepping outside onto the sidewalk and Delano escorting me to his car.

***

At slave processing, I had to repeat the same steps of stripping and being adorned with the trappings of a slave. Our new CLO and my lawyer escorted me to a conference room. This time, a different lawyer from the SEC was there. He was not good-looking, and I dreaded being required to offer him sexual service. He eyed me with that same cold, detached look I was getting used to from corporate lawyers, but instead of pointing to the floor for me to kneel like the slave I was, he instead indicated a chair near a serving table. "Coffee?"

Like Alice arriving in Wonderland, I stared at him in bewilderment, and he gave me a slight smile, "Yes, I know. Not quite what you expected, I imagine Ms Cartwright. You may not think it, but we are not entirely monsters, not all of us anyway, and we take a particularly dim view of being professionally misused, as we've come to suspect we have been."

He indicated a chair, "Please be seated, Ms. Cartwright. Firstly, I apologise that our meeting is here, where you are required to be naked, but it is required for legal reasons."

Opening the file in front of him, he looked at me, "I'm sure you want to get away from here, so let me cut to the chase. We have reviewed your plea bargain with the SEC, and a disturbing number of irregularities have come to light. Several of them are currently being actively pursued, but you need not concern yourself with that. What I will tell you, however, is that it was an unauthorised investigation by an agent who is no longer employed here that seems to have started this whole series of events.

When you, ahem... let's say 'inadvertently' traded stock on the morning the quiet period began, the SEC would not normally have flagged it. Even if it were flagged, it would have warranted no more than a written slap on the wrist. What happened to you was completely excessive, and I am quite horrified that our internal review processes did not catch this. From my investigation, it appears that David Gillespie took significant pains to hide what he was doing and ensure that a review was not carried out."

He grimaced, "I know I am opening up our organisation to potential legal repercussions by telling you this, but I refuse to allow this to be swept under the rug. As such, we will cooperate fully with any legal action you subsequently wish to pursue."

I sat there shocked and started to feel vindicated. He continued, "Since the stipulations were requested by the rogue agent allegedly on behalf of the SEC, we are officially revoking them. We will file an amended slavery agreement through these offices today. Unfortunately, since you agreed to voluntary enslavement, we can do nothing to manumit you. That would require approaching the Federal Authorities and would likely take weeks. So, as things stand, you will remain an Extraordinary Talent slave for the next two months."

"I required the presence of your corporate lawyer to officially register the SEC's view that you were falsely enslaved and should not be required to perform any further acts of sexual service prior to manumission. You will, however, be required to be naked one final time when you are manumitted. Your lawyer can advise you whether it would be wise to pursue a civil case against our former employee for false enslavement, and as I have already said, we will cooperate fully should you choose to do so. I deeply regret that we met in such circumstances and hope any future dealings will be less contentious. Good day."

I walked out of the processing centre, floating on cloud nine. As soon as I was dressed and got my handbag back, I texted Delano. It didn't take long after getting back to the office for Eamon to meet me and again apologise for the extended sexual service they had made me perform for the first three months. He asked my forgiveness that I would still be corporate property for another two months and required to remain on the premises but that I was free to have visitors on any evening. He smiled wanly as he gave me the news, and if I could have stabbed him and gotten away with it, I would have impaled him right there and then.

I was still too furious with him to answer, so I simply stared momentarily before asking, "May I be excused, Master?"

Stammering and lost for words, he nodded, and I turned on my heel and left him.

The next morning, an email was sent company-wide, clarifying that I had been falsely enslaved and that while I would remain a slave for another two months, I would no longer be required to perform any sexual service.

That evening, there was a soft knock on the door. When I answered, I saw it was Gianna from HR. I had been expecting this, and I wasn't sure how she would react.

Smiling, I ushered her in and spoke nervously, "Gianna, Hi! Um, you know that thing we had planned. Look, I... I'm not sure I can go through with it. Things have changed, and I, well..."

Seeing the tears in her eyes shook me, and I paused, "Gianna?"

She swallowed, unable to meet my eyes, and her voice shook, "I-I'm sorry."

"What?"

The woman's face just crumpled, and she started sobbing, "Oh, Beth... I'm so, so sorry..."

I stood there stunned momentarily before wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close. The poor woman was shaking, "Gianna, it's OK, really, it's going to be fine."

She sniffed, "It's not! I-I made you do those... things. I..." she sobbed, "liked it!"

I pulled away from her, chuckling, "Oh, so did I."

Seeing the expression on her face made me laugh out loud, and for a moment, she looked at me as if I were mad.

"Gianna, it's OK. You were good to me; you brought me dinner."

"That's not much."

I grinned, "When other clients were making me eat slave kibble? It's more than you think. You also went shopping for me, bought me bras and underwear when I needed them, and bought me a wonderful take-out lunch. You never even once tried to put a leash on me or treat me as anything other than a friend the whole time. It might not seem like much, but that was probably one of my best days in the last four months."

She mumbled something, but I held my finger to her lip, "No. I mean it. You were one of the few clients who treated me like a human being since this whole fucking mess started.

I pointed at the couch, "You never bent me over that thing and whipped me with a belt until I was sobbing and then laughed at my tears as you fucked me like Jamieson from sales did. You never made me eat kibble from a dog bowl on the floor and then crawl into the bedroom so you could throat fuck me until I choked, like Michaels from accounting. And you never shoved a dick up my ass without lube to make me scream, like Baker from my own fucking development team. You never called me a 'cunt', a 'filthy whore', or a 'dirty slut' like so many of them."

She had gone pale, and I realised I had started ranting, so I swallowed the bile and forced myself to smile, "Yes, we had sex, and yes, maybe I didn't have a choice, but you were kind, you were gentle, and Gianna, I enjoyed it as much as you did."

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

"Nope. Cross my tits and hope to die."

She giggled at the expression but quickly sobered, "You must hate us..."

"Oh, I have a boatload of anger in me right now. And that's why I can't go along with what we had planned; I'd be scared that I'd do something stupid, push things too far, maybe hurt you, because right now I really want to hurt someone."

I swallowed and shook my head as I forced my fists to unclench, "No, you don't deserve that, Gianna. But I still want to help you, and I have an idea."

She looked up, "Idea?"

"Yes, look, if you still want to find out what being a sub is like, I had two short-term FINO agreements drawn up for you. One's for a weekend, and the other is for a week. I have some friends; if you sign the first one, they'll take you for the weekend. I've spoken to them, and they know to go easy, but it will still be an experience."

She looked at the documents I'd pointed to, "W-what would happen?"

"They would meet you in the car park downstairs when you finished work on Friday and take you with them. As to what they'd do? Well, I don't know for sure. Probably a bit of bondage, some spanking and the like, a bit of humiliation."

She looked up, and there was a note of near panic in her voice, "Humiliation?"

"Oh, nothing too bad. Like I said, they promised to go easy, but maybe they might take you to a BDSM club, where you'd end up naked. There would be touching and stroking and whatnot, but nothing else. I promise your identity will be protected. I wouldn't throw you to the wolves..."

"Like you were."

I shook my head, "Don't. It's OK, it'll be over soon. Look, if you go with them, there would probably be a bit of pain, bondage, a lot of sex, and a stupendous number of mind-blowing orgasms. Then they'll bring you back here on Sunday afternoon."

"Mind-blowing?"

"That's what they promise. I'd have been sceptical at one time, but over the last few months, my horizons have been somewhat... expanded."

She grinned, "Like your tits."

I laughed, "That's the spirit! You want to give it a try?"

Gianna considered, "Why bring me back on Sunday afternoon?"

"Oh, that's so I can give you some aftercare and make sure you're OK; I'll look after you."

She blushed as she wiped away the tears, "Aw, Beth, really?"

I grinned and winked, "Well, the Hornyjuice is still working its way out of my system, so if we're in the mood, I might just fuck your brains out. You know, for old times' sake."

"Promises, promises."

She grinned and then nodded towards the second document.

"So, what's with the other FINO?"

"That's for a week, but you'd have to talk to them first and write down your own limits before getting into that. It's only if you had a good time and wanted, well... more, I guess. Plus, if it's all documented, you can't be accused of illicit slave play. It'll protect you legally."

"And you promise me they'll look after me?"

"I can't really promise anything, to be honest. I'm still a slave, but I can tell you they're true friends; they stuck by me through this whole thing, and I trust them."

She smiled, "Good enough for me. Where do I sign?"

***

After that, things started to progress at a whirlwind pace. My lawyer kept me up to date with the numerous ongoing enquiries. The FBI were typically ruthless, and they smelled blood. They already had David Gillespie in sight, and it wasn't long before they hauled him in. He was facing imminent charges of false enslavement, accepting bribes, and rape.

I didn't know this, but apparently, if you forcefully have sex with someone you know has been falsely imprisoned, including being blackmailed into voluntary enslavement, it's classed as rape. Combined with the charge of criminal conspiracy, Gillespie was looking at a hefty prison sentence, so he cut a deal.

Being the gutless bastard he was, he named, shamed, and gave evidence against everyone he knew, and then the authorities really went to town, working their way right up the food chain. At each stage, there were those willing to save their own skin by becoming prosecution witnesses. He got off with a year's enslavement. I asked my lawyer to keep tabs on where he ended up. I had plans for that bastard, and when I was finally free of this mess, I would take great pleasure in seriously fucking him up.

Given that several of the conspirators worked for Carrouges SA, the company competing with Absconditus Inc., the company was looking at being ensnared in a far-reaching criminal conspiracy that would hammer their corporate image and, more importantly, their stock price. So, their Board cut their losses ruthlessly: suspected conspirators were fired with cause or handed over, along with work phones, computers, proprietary emails and any other useful information to the FBI. More than one either ended up in jail or enslaved for lengthy periods.

The military investigators charged several officers with various offences against the Uniform Code of Justice. I laughed like a hyena when I learned that Major Ryan had been arrested and, after being threatened with military prison, had named his co-conspirators. He escaped with only a dishonourable discharge, but Major Bruce Mecklenburg and Colonel Jack Essex ended up in Leavenworth. Of course, they tried to save their skins by naming everyone they could think of, but it was too late by then.

When I learned how Marguerite Foucault had been one of the architects of my nightmare, I wasn't surprised. She had always had a reputation for being a ruthless conniving bitch. I experienced some wonderful schadenfreude when I was anonymously sent a video of her being given a judicial caning for verbally abusing some Police Officer after a traffic stop.

Give the bitch her due, though, she took it well. She never begged or whined, not her! She swore like a trooper throughout and told the guy wielding the cane to go fuck himself. She got at least an extra dozen strokes for her attitude, and she screamed in the end (everyone does), but I couldn't help but almost admire her sheer animosity and undiluted venom.