Company Property Ch. 01 - Dee's Fall

This is a work of fiction. This story takes place in an alternate universe where Judicial Slavery is legal. The rules here are the same as in one of my previous stories called Spouse Slaves . For more similar stories, Gamblnluck has several very good stories on Judicial Slavery. Non-violent felonies carry a punishment of forced slavery. Violent felons are still incarcerated. There is also the opportunity for free people to enter indentured service for a negotiated period of time.

Of course, this story has elements of non-consensual sex. This story also contains scenes of bondage, BDSM, and sexual slavery. In this case, there is also forced lesbianism. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, stop reading now. I should also warn you that there is only lesbian sex in this story.

This is a stand-alone story and is only related to my other story Company Property in that both stories are about a woman that gets in legal trouble and ends up as a penal slave for the company that she formerly worked at. This time, it is not limited to lesbian sex. Also, the main character in this story has also appeared in a few other stories. Obviously (since penal slavery is really not legal), this is a complete fantasy. Even so, you can rest assured that Dee is somewhere out there creaming her panties (if she is even wearing any) fantasizing about this being real.

One thing to note here, Dee does not do well with pain. Yes, she is a slave, but there will be very little pain involved in this series except for nipple clamps. She gets off on degradation and humiliation. CMNF, CFNF, ENF, and other forced humiliation will all be used. Impact play is not something that she enjoys. This will not be my typical BDSM story where the subject becomes a pain slut. Bondage and forced sexual encounters will consist of the majority of the action. There will be ass licking, piss play, lesbianism, gang bangs (with both male and female participants), domination by both male and female dominants, and a few other kinks. There will not be scat or extensive pain involved. Punishments will be mainly

OK, I want to do this a little differently than most of my other stories. I am posting the beginning here, and I will be submitting the ending shortly. There are a lot of possibilities out there between the beginning and the end. I will be writing further chapters as I go along, but I challenge other writers to add to the story. Feel free to write another adventure or event for Dee. Light on impact play, but nipple and breast clamps are fine. Spankings will be good, as long as they aren't overly harsh.

I request two things here. First off that you write an Introduction and reference this story as well as me as the original author for this series. Second, that you keep true to the main character of the series, Dee. As a guide, the basic outline of the story is that Dee is a slave to her company as outlined in this first chapter. In a future chapter somewhere down the line, the company gets sold to her worst competitor. Of course, she is included in the sale as company property. My plan at the end is to have her sold to her girlfriend, Miss H, at the end and have her finishes sentence as a bisexual submissive slut that she is. Feel free to add to her story. Have fun with this, and I will try to include as much as I can in her overall story. Pick up and add wherever you like. Please also give me a heads up so I can read your story and work on incorporating it into the timeline. I will not plagiarize, but only mention it in my stories.

Company Property - Dee's Fall, CH 01:

I stood there barely able to comprehend the words that I was hearing. I was actually shocked that I was standing at all, given that my knees were shaking, and my legs were about ready to collapse from the emotions running through me. In fact, my entire body was reacting to what I was hearing, and what I knew was about to happen. A part of my brain was still trying to come to grips with how my lifestyle was about to go through such a radical change. I had been a multi-millionaire CEO of my own company. I was a respected business owner. I owned my own home two high end automobiles, one of which was a classic Corvette hard-top convertible, and enough money to travel anywhere I wanted in style. My American Express card was black. For those of you not familiar with what that means, it is essentially an unlimited credit card. OK, so that isn't technically true, but the monthly limit on it is high enough that I had never even come close to having it being denied.

As I said, I owned my own business. While it wasn't an international conglomerate, it was still highly successful with an annual net profit in the upper 7 to lower 8 figure range, depending on the particular year. Yes, I was $u₵₵e$$ful. I employed about 2 dozen people as well. I liked to think that I was a good employer. I mean, I thought that my employees were happy. I never heard any real complaints. Sure, there was the occasional grumbling about minor issues, but no one ever came to me about any real major issues.

The logical part of my brain began running through the scenarios as the words being spoken filtered through my brain. I glanced behind me and saw my best friend sitting there with a comforting smile. She gave me a nod, indicating that she was prepared for the plan that we had hatched for this eventuality days earlier. I relaxed just a bit. It would be OK. I turned my attention back to the events in front of me. Yes, my life was about to take a drastic turn, but it would be OK.

As I stood there at the table wearing my $5,000 Armani business skirt suit, listening to what was being said. I began to feel myself flush with excitement. This was absolutely NOT part of what my logical mind was dealing with. No, this came from deep within another part of my mind. It was from the darker recesses of a twisted mind that I had managed to keep secret from all but a handful of people. My deceased husband knew all about it. In fact, it had actually begun with him. My best friend knew about it as well, and she had used it extensively. There were two others that knew about it as well. One was in the room, the other I had never met in person. I glanced around and saw Hector. His face was impassive. I think he realized that things would change significantly between us, but he would still have some benefits. The other person, I would not hear from again except for second hand from my best friend. That was if things went according to plan.

OK, so you have some questions. Perhaps you have guessed some of it already. My legal name is not important and giving it out would only serve to make things much worse for me and a lot of innocent people. You can just call me Dee. I'm approximately 5'6" tall. I have blond hair and grey-blue eyes. I'm 48 years old with no children. I was married once to a wonderful man, but he was killed several years ago. While I'm not a gym-rat, I am still in really nice shape. That's mainly due to genetics and, well, uuummm, let's just say that I get a great deal of alternative exercise for now. My cunt is completely devoid of hair. That's because I had laser treatments years ago when my husband was still alive. My figure, as I mentioned is still quite attractive, and I have no trouble at all getting all the attention that I want at the beach. That's not just because I wear my favorite blue semi-transparent bikini that I got from Wicked Weasel. Tits. Yes, you want to know about my tits. Well, I go by the name Dee, not just because my first name starts with a 'D'. In fact, Dee is short for Double Dee, which was my nickname in college. Get the picture?

So, what was causing all this anxiety? It was four words that were spoken. "Guilty an all counts." Those words were spoken by the judge as he read from the sheet of paper handed to him by the Jury Forewoman. My Lawyer had to grasp my arm to keep me from collapsing back into my chair as he read the words. I was shocked. I thought that my lawyer had done a masterful job of showing to the jury that I was just as much a victim as everyone else. To tell the truth, I had been conned. I had no clue that what was actually happening was illegal and a complete swindle. Unfortunately, I was the dupe and left holding the bag while the real criminals disappeared. They did a masterful job of setting me up as the fall person. I had been totally fucked from the beginning - both literally and figuratively.

Anyway, I had prepared for this possibility. Sure, I didn't think that it would come to this. My lawyer had made a brilliant defense based on the evidence that I was just an unwitting victim as well. Unfortunately, the jury decided that someone had to pay, and I was a convenient target. As a backup, I made plans with my best friend to mitigate the disaster.

A bit of background on my predicament here. Several years ago, the United States of America repealed the 13th and 14^th Amendment to the Constitution. That was because the prisons were becoming critically overcrowded and the cost of incarcerating non-violent criminals was becoming unmanageable. In order to mitigate this, a system of Penal Slavery was formed. Non-violent criminals, instead of being incarcerated in prisons, were sentenced to periods of slavery. Typically, the convict was put on an auction block and sold into slavery. The proceeds from that sale would reimburse the government for the costs of the trial and any other associated cost, and the rest would go towards restitution to the victims of the crime. In some cases, the convict would simply be handed over to the victim(s) as restitution, if the victims wanted that. I should mention here that there were some additional laws included that did protect the slave from excessive abuse, and killing a slave would also result in severe penalties. This would ensure that the slave could end their sentence and not be (physically) incapacitated from resuming a normal life. Mental and emotional issues were conveniently not discussed.

So, my best friend, who shall be referred to as Miss H, and I came up with a brilliant plan. Should I actually be convicted and go up on the auction block, Miss H would purchase me as her personal slave. I did manage to transfer a significant amount of money into a hidden account for her over the years, so she should have no trouble being able to purchase my tight ass at the auction.

The plan was that Miss H would purchase me at the auction and I would become her slave for the duration of my sentence. Yes, I would need to do some stuff to prove that I was actually her slave, but she would treat me much better than anyone else. I would be more of a friend with benefits to her than anything else. Think of me being a close friend that had fallen on hard times, and Miss H as the wealthy friend that took her in. Oh, I would have some 'duties' to perform for her, but that wasn't much of a hardship for me. Fuck, I was doing that anyway.

OK. Before we go any farther, I do need to explain a few more things. You are probably thinking that there is a lot of missing information about me. You are correct. There are two reasons that I refer to my best friend as Miss H. The first reason is obviously to prevent anyone from knowing who she is. Think of that old series Dragnet: "The names have been changed to protect the innocent." As for the second reason, I need to go back in time to explain a few things.

When I married my husband, I hadn't discovered a rather large part of my character. It was an accidental incident that changed my life forever. One evening while we were making love early in our marriage, we were doing it doggie style. We were in the grips of passion, when he took both of my wrists behind my back and gave me a hard swat on my ass as he was fucking me. I exploded. After a few more times, where he experimented with dominating and restricting me, we discovered that I experienced exponentially greater orgasms when that happened. Over a short period of time, we found that I was actually extremely submissive and got off on me being bound up and degraded.

My husband became my Master. Yes, I built up my business as a strong independent woman, but at home, I was my husband's submissive sex slave. As soon as I walked in the door in the evening, I stripped naked and put on my leather collar for him. On weekends, he took me to a very discreet BDSM club, where he had me service other Master's and Mistress's. We discovered that I am bisexual and enjoy being dominated by both men and women. I am not a fan of pain, though. After a couple of disastrous experiences, we decided that pain was not in the cards. I did get off on being humiliated and degraded though.

When my husband died, I was devastated. The only thing that got me through that period was the love and support of my best friend. Eventually, I began to start living again, but there was still a huge hole in my life. As time moved on, I realized that the hole that was left needed to be filled. Miss H and I had several long discussions about that, and eventually she took over a lot of the needs I had for domination. Still there was something missing. Sure, I submitted to Miss H whenever she called. She even enlisted the aide of several of her friends to ensure that I was well satisfied after a session. There was still a hole in my heart. That changed one day.

It had been several days since Miss H was available to have me over. I was frustrated and horney. I decided to go onto a website that I occasionally went to. It's called Literotica. It is a site where amateur (and occasionally professional) writers submit erotic stories for others to read and react to. There are several different genres to choose from. Me, being me, went to the BDSM tab. That was where my life changed for the first time. I found a story from an author that I had not seen before. There was a story about a very successful woman (she was a lawyer) that gave herself to several of her very close friends as a sex slave for a holiday weekend. There were several parts to the story, and I was enthralled with her experiences. Although she was a very successful lawyer with everything she could possibly want, she needed to completely let go of everything and become a mindless sex slave to decompress. After reading the third paragraph, I had totally identified with the main character. When I finished reading the first installment, I messaged the author. Little did I know what that would turn into.

GTO_Racer, the author's handle, replied to my contact email. It only took a day for him to understand my needs and desires. He became my online Master. Miss H became his enforcer. He gave me commands to do the most depraved things, and Miss H ensured that they were done. He required me to give my phone to whoever I was with. He would chat with that person and give them instructions as to what they were to do with me. He would have them take photos and videos of me performing extremely depraved and humiliating tasks. I would then be required to send all those photos and videos to Miss H for her to keep. Don't get the wrong idea here. I was a fully willing participant in everything. I can't even begin to tell you how many orgasms I had at Sir's orders.

There was one time when Sir had me go to someone's house and have sex simultaneously with 7 men. One in my cunt, one in my ass, one in my mouth, one titty fucking me, one in each hand, and one using my feet. I did that twice in a row. 14 men orgasmed with me within a half an hour. I drove home naked and covered in their cum.

Sir had me go to the beach for Spring Break one time. I was ordered to wear my blue Wicked Weasel semi-transparent bikini to the beach. I also had to wear a butt plug wit a large base. The object was to pick up a group of college guys. I ended up spending the weekend at their hotel room. I must have fucked a hundred guys and aa dozen college girls by the time the weekend was over. One memorable event was when Sir ordered me to tell everyone in a very loud voice that "I need to wear a butt plug whenever I go to the beach because I've been ass-fucked so much that I need a plug to keep the water out of my ass!" Talk about humiliating. I nearly orgasmed on the spot.

Another time, Sir ordered me to go to a sex shop and offer myself to all of the customers as a test subject for them. He also ordered me to ask the owner of the shop to call all of his regular clients and tell them what was happening. I spent the next 6-hours fucking, sucking, and being a test model for a dozen customers. I gave the owner my Black Am-Ex card and told him to charge all of the merchandise that was used on me to my card, then give those products to whoever used it on me. I also was required to give away all my clothing and jewelry to whoever wanted it. My $5,000 Armani Skirt Suit was given to a woman that came in with her husband. Thankfully, she was close enough to my size that it would actually fit her. My 1/2 carrot diamond earrings ended up with a college girl that wandered in with her girlfriend. They also walked out with about $300 worth of sex toys. My $10,000 diamond necklace went out with a truck driver that would be giving it to his wife for an anniversary present. Rings, and bracelets were also given away. As I mentioned earlier, I am very wealthy. Being told to give my wealth away to be fucked just adds to my humiliation and demeaning. I get off on that in a big way. At the end of that night, Sir had the owner of the adult store pick out the sluttiest and most demeaning outfit in the store for me to wear on my drive home. Of course, that drive was with my Corvette's top off, so that everyone would have a clear view of my condition. As a last order, I put on the sheer mesh outfit and laid down on the floor. Every guy that still managed to have a load available masturbated over me. I think the Owner actually went outside to recruit several guys, because I ended up having about 25 guys shooting their sperm over me. Sir forbade me from even doing the slightest clean-up until after I got home. Even though my cunt and ass were sore from earlier, I was so horney that I fucked myself to three orgasms with one of my vibrators that night before I could fall asleep.

OK, so what does that have to do with my current predicament? It explains the rest of my feelings at this time. Yes, my logical brain was horrified at what was happening, but my reptilian brain, as well as my body was taking control. I felt my panties getting wet from my depraved thoughts of what my slavery entailed. That's about the time that things went to hell in a hand basket.

"Because of the nature of the crime and the fact that restitution is still owed to the defendant's employees, I hereby order that the defendant's employees are awarded all business assets in order to take over the existing business. This is to ensure that the employees maintain their employment and are not unemployed because of their employer's crimes. I further order that the defendant be placed in Judicial Slavery to her former company for a period of not less than 20 years. Because she used her business accounts to commit her crimes, it is only fair that she is to become the property of those same accounts as a judicial slave. Should the business be sold or acquired in any way, she will be considered a company asset. Should the business be dissolved, she will be auctioned off as a company asset, and the proceeds of her sale will be divided up among the victims of her crimes as restitution." The judge ordered.

Well fuck. That effectively ruined all the plans Miss H and I had developed. Instead of me going on the auction block where Miss H could purchase me, I was now given as a Company Asset to all my former employees. The only hope I now had was that my former employees would put me up for sale with the rest of the company assets. A glance back at Miss H told me that she wasn't really optimistic about my chances. The smirk on Hector's face told me that he had been in discussions with a few of my former key employees. Hector was the team leader for the cleaning crew for my office complex. Over the last several months, Sir had me submitting to him and his crew as they cleaned my offices on Friday nights. His smirk as I was sentenced told me that I would still be submitting to him and his crew every Friday night. My sentence would not change anything as far as he was concerned.