Daphne's Downfall Ch. 01

This story arc takes place in an alternative reality where legal slavery exists in the United States as depicted in the stories by Joe Doe, Carl Bradford, Gentlemanmariner and a number of others. I also want to thank Carl for editing much of my work, which greatly improved the final product while also allowing me to incorporate some of his characters and institutions in my stories. All persons enslaved, involved in slavery operations, or described in explicit sex scenes are aged 18 years or older. Feedback in the form of comments are greatly appreciated.

What follows was my attempt to explain what happened to Daphne after the events at the Parker Center in Allison's Decent into Slavery (Ch. 10-12). I was able to incorporate Penny's fate into part of the last chapter and will do a brief summary regarding what happened to Maribelle and Beth in Allison's next chapter. My intent was to do about four to five pages (Word) on Daphne in the next chapter of Allison's story and then move on but fell into a rabbit hole writing thirty pages, or enough for two separate chapters. I decided to publish them and possibly circle back to Daphne. My apologies for the detour but I hope you enjoy the story.

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The jailor's hand on my left butt cheek kept me propelled in the correct direction down the hallway. I was naked wearing an inmate collar, gagged, with my hands cuffed behind my back in the detention facility adjacent to the Frank Crowley Courts building. It had been two days since that fateful day at Parker Center when I was arrested for illegal drug possession, furnishing a controlled substance to human livestock and felony slave abuse. I had plenty of time to contemplate my actions and my future in jail locked in ad seg, otherwise known as solitary confinement, for my own protection. Did I mention that all inmates are kept naked and collared while held in jail? The first night in general population three bull dykes got into a fight over who got to be my jail wife because I was going to be "gay for the stay". They pulled out shanks from guess where and the fight was on with one ending up in the hospital in serious condition, the other two needing stitches and more importantly two correctional officers injured.

What did they think was going to happen when they put a naked Daphne Callaway in there wearing only an inmate slave collar? I graded prime, not prime minus, but an actual prime at the Bid D for my slave grading as part of my sorority initiation. The only pure prime in my pledge class I'll have you know. I am hot and I use it to my advantage whenever I can. With blonde hair, blue eyes, nice firm breasts and a tight ass that I keep in shape with yoga, Pilates, running, tennis and personal training sessions. My dad told me that I was the twin for some actress named Heather Locklear when I slid down the bannister of our mansion butt first in a pair of tight leather pants my freshman year in college. My mother died when I was an infant so I grew up as daddy's little girl, able to ignore my step mother Rhonda even when he remarried. To this day she and I have a rather frosty relationship.

In order to explain how I ended up in this ridiculous situation I need to describe my relationship with Calum Bedford. My father Jonathan Callaway and Calum's dad Glenn were college buddies, business associates and members of the same country club. We lived three houses down from the Bedford's and our families were close. It was during the club's 4th of July party the summer before my freshman year in high school that we really noticed each other. After a few games of volleyball I caught him staring at me. Making a nice recovery he asked me to partner with him for a game of chicken in the pool. We ruled the roost, defeating all the other couples in the chicken contest that day. Calum followed me around like a lovesick puppy dog for the rest of the party. He was so cute and I liked the attention. Flirting and being a tease was in my genes. I'm a natural and I quickly had him wrapped around my little finger by the time of the fireworks display that evening.

Calum and I started dating soon thereafter, becoming high school sweethearts with Christmas formals, proms, and he was my escort when I executed a flawless "Texas Dip" as a debutante. I even gave Calum my virginity on prom night my senior year a few days after turning eighteen. I made the varsity cheerleader team freshman year and convinced the girls to cheer on the water polo team that Calum was the captain of. When they saw all the cute players they were hooked, and the water polo team really appreciated our support compared to the entitled football team. Calum was two years ahead of me in school so we maintained a long distance relationship with him at the University of Texas in Austin while I finished high school. In my social circle a good girl fell in love with a nice young man, married, had children, raised a family growing old together and I was well on my way towards attaining that goal.

We had it all planned out for me to become Mrs. Calum Bedford when I attended Rice University in Houston. One of us would make the three hour drive to visit the other on weekends when our schedules permitted. He had obligations starring on the varsity water polo team and I had my duties in the Alpha Delta sorority. It all fell apart my senior year at Rice when he met Allison and he broke up with me. I was devastated, my boyfriend of seven years had suddenly ended our relationship telling me that he had never really loved me now that he knew what true love felt like. How dare he break up with me! Destroying our carefully laid out plans for our future. I spent the next couple of years trying to break them up hoping to bring back my dream of becoming Mrs. Calum Bedford. Then a few days ago I discovered ponygirl Allison bent over a breeding bench at Parker Center and, well, the rest is history.

Daddy and Rhonda had visited me yesterday. He was furious that I had been so irresponsible right after we saw what happened to Amelia and Avery Bedford. Just a few days ago they had the circle star felon badge burned into their asses. It was all over the news! Daddy took a bottle of expensive scotch down to Glen's the next day to give him support. When daddy found out that Amelia had an ownership interest in the Daisy ponygirl, he asked Glen to intercede with the owner of Allison. Glen, with Calum present, had agreed, even after everything I had done to Allison. Glen was more disappointed than angry with me and he sure did not want me to have the same experience as his wife and daughter. For that I was grateful.

Daddy had hired hot shot attorney Claire Kincaid to represent me and told me that if I fired her or she rejected me as a client I was getting the public defender. With just the drug possession charge alone I was looking at two to twenty years on a second degree felony. That alone could get me sold as a penal slave earning me the circle star brand. Ouch, I thought. Claire Kincaid also happened to be Rhonda's baby sister, putting me in a sticky situation. I signed the retainer contract for Aunt Claire without reading it. Rhonda informed me that if I came home with the circle star badge of a felon burned into my ass Daddy was disowning me. When I looked at him he just nodded in agreement and stormed out of the room with Rhonda in tow.

After my meeting with Daddy I had plenty of time to reflect on our conversation. I have never seen him this angry before in my life. I had the next twenty-four hours to stew in my juices so to speak. Well, I was all alone in my cell for twenty-three hours a day so when I was not sleeping or doing yoga I found myself jilling myself while fantasizing about all the nasty things I might have to do as a slave girl. I was naked wearing an inmate collar which was weirdly erotic. After reading some of those slave romance novels and the movies and TV shows on the Hallmark slave channel I had a vivid imagination. It was particularly humiliating and highly stimulating to fantasize about being treated in the same nasty way I had tried to do to Allison. I began to wonder what was wrong with me as I lay there in a pool of sweat after each of many particularly good climaxes as I waited to meet with Aunt Claire, my new attorney.

The appointed time for our meeting arrived the next day when a jailor removed me from my cell. He used his right hand on my left buttock with his middle finger right on my anus to guide me to my destination. I was naked wearing an inmate collar, gagged and my hands cuffed behind my back. My arousal level was off the charts for some reason that I did not understand. Was it a combination of my sudden loss of freedom being stripped naked wearing a collar, locked up, marched around the jail naked for all to see or the jailor's incessant finger rubbing, almost burrowing into my anus? I suspected that if we stopped in a confined space my jailor would smell my arousal.

Moving about the jail was a process in itself with numerous double doors dividing different sections of the jail. We waited for a door to open and then walked through waiting for the door to close behind us so the next door could open all the while being observed by correctional officers in different control booths. I just knew I was the hottest girl in here and acted as such, projecting a haughty attitude towards my lowly jailors. Whenever we stopped, my uppity jailor's middle finger started delving further into my sphincter. Not punching through, but a circular rubbing that opened me up just a little. Damn, it was beginning to feel really good in a weird and unfamiliar way while I acted as if nothing unusual was happening.

"Feel that slut. That's my finger knocking on your back door. When you get sentenced for your atonement session I am going to punch this starfish, driving my cock balls deep in your back door while you squeal."

That was right out of an atonement session scene in the "Annie Finds Love as a Penal Slave" novel where the slave stupid heroine learned to enjoy anal sex in a slave haze strapped down on an atonement bench. As we waited for the door he reached lower, goosing my pussy with his finger as he lubed his digit, then bringing it back to my backdoor. More of the persistent digging until he had his finger in just past his fingernail massaging my sphincter from inside. My pussy was really throbbing now as I felt my pussy lips becoming engorged and peeling open. The correctional officer in the control room grinned, blowing me a kiss upon seeing that my nipples were as hard as diamonds. Could he see how wet my kitty was? It is a challenge to project an attitude of haughty indifference when a man is fingering your pussy and ass in a situation like this. I pulled it off with grace.

My escort taunted, "So the spoiled princess is a slut at heart. I thought that stink was yours. You want a big strong man like me to use you, don't you? Your calling for the collar is getting granted if any of your charges stick which they will since it was all caught on video. You were slave stupid even when you were a free woman."

I gave him a look of utter contempt while projecting an air of confidence, somehow ignoring the finger stuck in my ass. In reality I was legally screwed and knew it, which meant I would soon be screwed literally as well. He just confirmed what Daddy told me yesterday. How was Claire going to save me from getting the circle star badge burned into my cute butt? Then again, if anyone could save my ass it was Claire Kincaid.

We arrived at my destination, the attorney interview room where I was meeting Ms. Kincaid, or should I say Aunt Claire, to discuss my case. I had only met her a few times at family functions. She was an intimidating woman, reminding me of a lesbian Amazon warrior, who always seemed to be undressing me with a predatory gleam in her piercing blue eyes that made me nervous while also making my pussy tingle. I constantly felt unsettled in her presence, always wondering what if, but not being a lesbian myself and destined as the future Mrs. Calum Bedford I never seriously considered it. Now with time on my hands I confess that more than once I pleasured myself in my cell dreaming about what it would be like to be Claire's submissive little slave girl. Where did that come from?

Claire Kincaid was a maverick both in the legal circles and within her family. She was a brilliant woman in her early thirties who had obtained her undergraduate degree in three years followed by a law degree all at the University of Texas. What made her different was the unorthodox way she funded her education with a full ride FINO as a racing ponygirl. By the time her college career was over she had captained the team to two national championships, was four time national champion in her event, All American and academic All American after being red-shirted her freshman year. The highlight of her racing career was winning the gold medal in the London games barely holding off the Russian that everyone thought was on steroids. Claire was tall, athletic and fit while retaining her femininity with Sports Illustrated swimsuit model good looks. She signed a one-year FINO funding her final year of law school with a wealthy lesbian alumna who wanted to explore a relationship with a thoroughbred with the two dating for a year afterwards until it fell apart.

My jailor opened the door, leading me inside by his finger, so to speak, and there Clair Kincaid sat at the interview table wearing a fashionable skirt and blouse. Once again those piercing blue eyes captured me in her gaze causing me to gasp through my gag and that weird tingle in my pussy returned yet once again. She had an air of confidence that was both intimidating and reassuring at the same time. Right now I just felt safe with her.

"Why is my client gagged?" Claire asked, frowning in annoyance.

"This one is mouthy," replied the jailor.

"Has this stupid slave girl been whipped for her insolence?"

"No ma'am, we don't want to mark the prime pussy destined for pleasure slut designation and sale."

Claire smirked, standing up, pulling a twelve-inch leather strap out of her purse, "Bend her over the table so I can address her behavioral challenges. There's no time like the present with an uppity slave girl new to the collar. This one signed my standard retainer contract making her a legal slave and me her owner until her case resolves. And that includes discipline."

My jailor responded with an overly enthusiastic, "Yes ma'am," as he bent me over the table before I knew what hit me. I tried struggling to no avail. Next thing I knew Aunt Claire landed three stinging blows to my ass with that strap as I squealed through my gag, not believing she had the audacity to spank me. I mean as the client I'm the boss, right? Then she landed three more for emphasis. This was my first spanking ever! Daddy never dared. Damn if it didn't hurt, losing my composure as I started bawling even though the whipping somehow kicked my arousal into hyper drive.

Claire opened her briefcase pulling out a file folder, finger vibe, leather wrist and ankle cuffs, a collapsible spreader bar, a riding crop, lube, a good sized butt plug, alcohol swabs and a zippered case out of her briefcase putting them on the table. What the hell! Why did she have all THAT I thought as my concerns were echoed by the guard?

"What do you need all that for?" asked my curious jailer, pointing at the assorted items on the table.

Aunt Claire snickered, "Me and my client will be having a heart to heart discussion concerning her personal growth as a human being now that she is wearing a collar."

That sounded ominous. Claire used one of the alcohol swabs to disinfect a spot on my right buttock while asking, "Is this the spot where the circle star felon badge is burned into a naughty girl's ass?"

"Yes ma'am."

Claire pulled a loaded syringe from the case in front of me, removing the cap and checking for air bubbles. What was in the syringe and why was my lawyer giving it to me?

"Ma'am, is that horny juice? Why are you giving it to her? Can't you smell the stink of her slave heat? Her cunt is already dripping wet."

"It will make her a more docile, eager to please slave girl who knows when to keep her mouth shut. As a certified slave handler I am authorized to administer it."

How dare she give me that shot! Who did she think she was? Claire stuck me right where my felon brand would go, I could feel a slight burning as the horny juice entered my bloodstream. The deputy was right, I was already too horny. Why do it, this would be like throwing gasoline on a fire?

"Daphne, this is a combination of estrogen, progesterone, and other chemicals that will significantly increase your sexual arousal, transforming you into a horny little slut for the next forty-eight hours. Unlike your sugar cube escapade this is all perfectly legal. It is fast acting and will help you adapt to your new reality as a slave."

Claire returned the now empty syringe to its case and grabbed the tube of lube, rubbing it into my sphincter getting me ready. She wouldn't dare I thought while I eyed the huge butt plug on the table before my eyes with trepidation. It was four-inches-long and three inches in diameter at the widest point. Could this get any worse? I was about to lose my anal virginity to a piece of plastic.

"This spoiled former debutante needs a slave plug to remind her of her current status," sneered my attorney, as she swiped the anal plug off the table. She greased the plug, getting it all ready for my virgin ass, then dropping the lube on the table right in front of my face as she walked behind me.

"This might hurt a little, my darling," she advised, and shoved it home. Aahhh! That bitch. Hurt a little my ass. That hurt a lot, never having anything in my ass before today.

"Please remove the gag and cuffs. Put her into those ankle and wrist cuffs and string her up from the ceiling with the spreader bar holding her legs apart before you leave the room."

The deputy quickly complied with the request and then headed towards the door. "Buzz me if you need my assistance, ma'am."

"I will, I promise."

The door clicked closed behind me as the deputy left, leaving me alone with my attorney. So there I was strung up with my hands secured over my head, tears on my cheeks, legs spread wide, and a new butt plug in my virgin ass as my pussy throbbed out of control as the horny juice took effect. Claire tapped her smartwatch and the plug started softly vibrating, causing me to gasp in surprise. She picked up the riding crop and opened the file. It dawned on me that in a matter of mere minutes Claire had clearly demonstrated who was in charge here, and it wasn't me.

"You're screwed. I reviewed the video from the Parker Center. I do not have the police reports yet but the video alone is damning. The tox screen from the Samson clinic indicates a large quantity of ecstasy, so we know what the cubes were laced with. The remaining cubes will test positive for ecstasy. Since they recovered four cubes and each cube is four grams that is sixteen grams of ecstasy for a second degree felony which translates into two to twenty years penal enslavement. Furnishing ecstasy to a slave is a first degree felony good for five to twenty years. Doing it without the owner's consent is an aggravating factor at sentencing. The slave abuse charge is the least of your worries. We lose if we go to trial. Right now the public is clamoring for accountability of the privileged who abuse their slaves. You meet that criteria putting you in the DA's crosshairs for an easy political win. And they weren't even your slaves. Do you understand your situation?"

She was scaring me. I whispered, "Yes, Mistress."

"It has also come to light that you abused Penny Parker at school. Did you really have her branded with an Alpha Delta badge also known as the "slit licker" badge and then make her a house slave, stripping her naked in a collar sexually serving the other sisters and alumnae?"