Day of Injustice

"Come on little birdy, time to get up."

Her head was pounding...how much had she had to drink last night? She heard something scrape open, and her vision blurred and swirled as she lifted her head off a cold hard floor.

"I said get the fuck up!", said a man in front of her. All she could even really focus on were a pair of shiny black shoes. The effort was already too much, she closed her eyes, and her head fell back down with a dull thud.

"OW!--" she yelled a moment later as a fist grabbed a handful of her shoulder-length golden curls, and in one short twist sought to pull her upright. "Get the fuck off me!" she shouted, and made to push off her attacker but only succeeded in nearly dislocating her own shoulders. It took her a second to realise her hands were securely cuffed behind her back.

The world was slowly coming into focus now as her panic set in. She was in a breeze block room with a small barred window, the side without breeze blocks currently had an open gate of thick metal bars. Had she been kidnapped? Her hands were cuffed and behind her, she couldn't see the man still holding onto the back of her head by her hair. From what she could feel her shoes and shirt had been removed while she was unconscious. She tried to twist away from him, but was met with only a violent yank that stopped her in her tracks.

"I wouldn't do that birdy. Then again it's not likely to get you in any more hot water than you're already in. If weren't already late to get you to the Sheriff I'd teach you a real fucking lesson here and now." said the man behind her, his drawl and his choice of words lending a verbal sneer to what he said. The mention of the Sheriff, the small look at a brown uniform with a shiny badge she'd got as she twisted herself, those added up to some pretty unpleasant results. Fuck, she thought, what the fuck did I do to end up here?

She remembered some of the previous day. Telling her dad she was going out, heading to the bus station, and staring out of the window for hours as the city turned to green countryside that turned to cracked and dusty land with scattered farms, and small rivers that drove green lines across the landscape. She'd known her friend Kayla had moved to Tightslit Creek with her father when he took over a local dairy. Kayla didn't have any choice in the matter, but at least it was a job, and her father could provide her with a freedom pass for as long as the business was running, she'd be safe.

They'd promised to text, and call. Largely to keep Kayla sane in the middle of nowhere. The two had been inseparable friends for as long as either could remember, and the thought of being parted had looked to drive a wedge between them for a while but they'd made up. The texts and calls came through for a few weeks, but then...nothing, silence. Kayla's number wasn't even in service any more. As the bus had pulled into town that evening Ellen had noticed that Tightslit Creek was little more than two roads, a couple of stores, and a bar with a few streets of houses all butted next to and around a shallow slow moving body of grey-green water she assumed was the titular creek. She knew Kayla was at one of the farms south of the town and...had she gone into the bar to ask about it...her memory became fuzzy there...

Yanking back on her head, and up on the cuffs at the small of her back the officer brought Ellen's thoughts crashing home to reality. She was forced to march practically blind through the dusty breeze block building, its walls already warming in what she could only assume was the early morning sun. Without knowing where she was going it was difficult to put one foot in front of the other and more than once she came close to losing her footing, one of her ankles was in agony which didn't help.

"Ain't you a pretty little thing. You got a body built for one of the farms around here. I bet you'd milk just fine. Shame you ain't there right now, would have saved you a whole load of trouble little bird. You know what, though. if'n the Sheriff didn't want to see you so bad we'd be back in that cell with you saying some sweet sweet prayers to whatever it is you believe in, and I would be balls deep in your ample little ass." said the officer, his teeth gritted slightly, a tiny bit of spittle landing near her ear as his brain poured forth every foul thing he'd have enjoyed doing to her if she hadn't, apparently, been on a timetable. The fact he hadn't had time to rape her this morning was some small comfort to Ellen in the circumstances as he continued to roughly force her through the roughly finished corridors of wherever it was she'd been left.

She couldn't really see what was going on around her with her hair pulled so tight that her view was all ceiling, but she could hear. Crying, the distant sound of flesh slapping on flesh, ringing phones, definitely the sounds you'd expect to hear not just from law enforcement, but what must also pass for the equivalent of a Bureau of Female Affairs office for these parts.

"Hold it right there, little bird", said the man as he briefly loosed her cuffs and hair to unlock a large metal door in front of him before shoving her inside, and closing the door behind them. The small windowless room was darker than outside while still being the same bare breeze block walls as elsewhere, the stark buzzing neon ceiling tubes of the corridors replaced by a more subtle colder shade. The only things in the room were stark and ugly boxy metal chairs, and a metal table, one of the tables was occupied by a man flipping through a folder, he didn't even glance at the pair as they entered.

"Here you go, Sheriff, this one's the little miscreant from the dive bar outside of town." said the man still pulling back hard on her hair.

"This fine example of womanhood got a name, deputy?" asked the sheriff.

"My name i--" she started but was interrupted by a swift tug on the hair that felt like it was going to break her neck.

"Whores don't speak unless spoken to, cunt" hissed the deputy before turning his more professional attention to the sheriff, "She couldn't produce ID when we asked her to on account of the cocktail of girlheaters and paralytics her drinks had been spiked with. Took us a good while frisking her before we could get some ID, she seemed to enjoy it, though." With this the deputy slid a hand into her shorts, and beneath her panties, an idle finger gently inserting itself into her. She wanted to be sick. "Looks like the girlheaters ain't worn off yet, chief, she's wetter than the creek bed in fall down there. You want her up on the table for you?"

"Set her down in a chair, and go find someone else to bother, Miller."

"Oh come on, a bit of fun won't hurt, not with what she's in for..."

"Yeah, and you can have all that fun later. Besides, I hear the Roscoe Twins were up protesting at the farms again, only came in about ten minutes ago, I know how much you enjoy that pussy."

"Roscoe twins? Yes sir. No one buys those fine pieces of ass before winter I should have enough cash saved up to buy the pair of 'em outright..."

The Sheriff grunted "Well it'd certainly save on men carting them back in here every few days, one step more out of line from either of them and you can forget buying them, I'll have them on forced export to anywhere that will take them. Their daddy has spared them a good beating once too often now. Think of it as your civic duty to stop them getting into too much trouble before you can buy them."

"I reckon I can do that sir", the deputy chuckled. He pushed Ellen forwards and sat her down in one of the chairs opposite the Sheriff. It was noticeable at once that the chair she was placed in had a back that allowed for her to sit with her hands cuffed behind her, and was, unlike the rest, bolted to the floor. The deputy leaned in behind her, and one sharp click later her hands were immobile, the cuffs secured to something behind her. "Later, little birdy. Don't get too lonely without me." he said in a mocking tone into her ear before running his tongue up her cheek.

"Miller, get the fuck out, NOW." said the Sheriff, his eyes fixed on the deputy who made a rapid exit, closing the heavy metal door and shutting out the yellowy light of the corridor beyond.

Sitting opposite, and securely locked in place she took the opportunity to take a good look at the Sheriff. Underneath the beige of his uniform was some well defined muscle. His brown hair was starting to thin, and a tightly trimmed moustache occupied his top lip. He opened a brown folder in front of him, and it flopped open on the table between them. A full page scan of her ID was before them.

"Ellen Neal, 18, A rating, but not from around these parts, 2 year freedom pass with 22 months to run. Tell me why a masterless slut like you's here in the middle of nowhere."

At least he seemed ready to listen, thought Ellen, she take talking to him over the deputy any day, even if as a higher authority there was a tinge more fear in her when she thought about it. "I had a friend, Kayla, she moved out here from E-ville a few months back. I hadn't heard from her in a while. I'm just here to drop in on her, see how she's doing. I tried to find her last night but...that was before the bar...I don't remember after that."

"Can't say I know of a Kayla in town, but then there's been a lot of property outside town changing hands lately. Tell me, your Closest Male Relative agree to this?" he asked, picking up the folder once more, licking a thumb, and flicking through some sheets she couldn't see.

"I didn't know I needed my daddy's permission to leave town." she replied. She regretted the sassy tone as soon as it left her mouth. The sheriff raised an eyebrow in her direction and closed the folder, putting it down between them.

"Oh you didn't, but you see we already gave him a call and told him why we were holding you, he said it's your own damn fault and you can deal with the consequences. Nice to know you're being looked out for, and at least you're not adding being a liar to what we know about you."

A bead of sweat dribbled down Ellen's forehead as she sat in the chair. She still had no idea why she was here. Why the local Sheriff was holding her, or why her shoes, and shirt were missing.

The sheriff narrowed his eyes and subconsciously smoothed his moustache with a thumb and forefinger. He learned in to the table, his arms on the table, one of themcradling his chin. "Since we know now that lying to me is pointless here's another question. You know of a man named Emmet Rust?"

"No..." she said, the name not even vaguely familiar. All she could think about at the moment was how the bead of sweat was making her nose itch like crazy.

"Funny. On account of you having killed him last night."

Ellen's mind whirled, she drew in a sharp breath. She couldn't remember last night, she couldn't defend herself. She had to think of something, and fast but her brain seemed to be moving at half its usual speed, like it was stuck in tar in the face of something it simply wasn't built to process. Her mouth was open, but there was no sound, no nothing. She couldn't even begin to respond.

The Sheriff chuckled at her. "No smart ass response, slut?"

"I can't...remember..." was all she could say, tears welling in her eyes. This couldn't be happening, it couldn't be real. She knew the penalty, there had to be a mistake.

The Sheriff smiled and got out his phone, "Then perhaps I can jog your tiny whore brain..." he said, placing it on the table. "This here is footage from not too long after your bus got to town. Now I'm going to say this thing here is you. Same sneakers, same denim booty shorts, same hair, looking about 5'7" and around, what, 140lbs...actually let's make that 145lbs now I've seen the size of those tits. This isn't the interesting part, though, let's scrub forward a bit..."

It was a strain to look at the small screen with the handcuffs fixed to the chair behind her but she strained forwards, desperate to see what had happened, what it was that she just could not remember. The video was grainy, black and white, but there she was, beer glass in hand, barely able to remain upright as a man she didn't remember had one hand deep inside her panties, and another underneath her shirt. It looked like she was...giggling?

"Now this fellow here knuckle deep in your slit is old Emmet. He likes....liked to go to the local dive bar, get sluts like you real drunk, and high and...well...we usually would find them a week or so later dumped outside the local fem-vet. Nothing we could ever charge him with, you understand, he claimed each and every bareneck had surrendered to him, and no judge is going to convict based purely on what a woman's going to say. Now look, here he moves in, you slip and...there we go"

Ellen had to look away. The fall had broken her beer glass but left her with the handle. Emmet had tried to scoop her up...then blood was everywhere.

"But....I didn't....he....he drugged me...I'm not responsible! I wasn't in control of myself!" her heart was beating a thousand times a second. She watched as people backed away from the man who stood clutching his neck...he reached down to choke her. She flailed the remains of the glass in her hand, he fell, he twitched and was still.

The video froze. "Ignorance of the law is no excuse, and neither is allowing yourself to become so blind drunk and high you don't remember what it was you did. Now we can't get the local judge here for a week or so, but we've also got no high security BFA approved facility to hold you for these charges..."

"No, no, no, please, you can see it's an accident...you can't do this...please." she pleaded, nervously straining at the cuffs behind her back in case there was somehow an escape.

The Sheriff let loose a belly laugh, "In this case, you little slut, I can do as I damn well please. Given the lack of a judge local law enforcement has a lot of discretion."

Despite the heat of the building as the sun beat down Ellen's blood ran cold. There was one punishment and one punishment alone for killing a man. "Please, please just, can't it wait until there's a judge, I can get a lawyer, my daddy, someone to help....please..."

"Slut, I already told you. Your former CMR's already abandoned his claim on you. All we're waiting on a is a fem-vet for your final Inspection. But while he's on his way why don't I get proceedings started a little early."

He rose, and rounded the table, unzipping along the way. Ellen tried to push back, away from him, but now she knew why the chair was so securely bolted to the floor. He casually unbuckled his belt, lowering his trousers so she could see the cock in front of her.

"As I said. I have a lot of discretion. Maybe you do well here, maybe I go easy on you. There's plenty of places you could be disappeared to if you make it through the first day."

Gingerly, and with tears in her eyes she leaned forward, mouth open, breathing heavy. At first she stuck out her tongue, caressing and licking the cock in front of her as best she could while secured to a chair.

"Well aren't you a dainty little thing. I expected a full on sloppy mouthed slut when I saw you." he said, looking down at her.

She might have gone after him harder, she thought, but she was scared out of her mind. No matter the circumstance she had to do a good job. Convinced the tip was thoroughly massaged she took the tip in her mouth, and began to slowly work her lips over the shaft, giving the lightest tickle to the underside with her tongue.

"Goddam. If this isn't the best blowjob I've had in months." said the sheriff, his breathing quickening, Ellen could feel the rush of blood to his still hardening cock in her mouth. The shame was soul crushing. She was here to find her friend, now here she was, imprisoned, accused of murder, sucking the cock of a man she barely knew in an attempt to be treated with leniency.

Deep inside of her, though, stirred something darker.

"Fuck you're good. Just a little deeper whore, and stick out your tongue, I want my balls clean and shiny."

She wanted to be anywhere but here, to not be sucking cock, but that little dark corner her twinkled when she was told she was good. With all her mind she wanted desperately to stop, but the same dark corner answered the command and it felt like someone else was pushing her deeper onto the cock that now filled her mouth.

She moaned a whore's moan despite herself. Desperate to pull back, but desperate too for more praise, and more orders.

She picked up the pace, she knew he wouldn't last long. Would she have pleased him, would it be enough that he might let her go? She hoped so. She thought of Kayla as she did, and moaned again, a deeper, throatier, and longer moan. It wasn't just Kayla's friendship she wanted, she needed...it was Kayla herself.

Was this the girlheaters talking? The overpowered chemical aphrodisiacs developed to nearly cripple womankind with their lust, their need for validation? She didn't care. All she cared about now was thinking of Kayla, and the cock deep in mouth, she pushed deeper and the sheriff locked his hands at the back of her skull, his cock pulsing like crazy as he poured hot sticky cum down her throat.

"Goddam, girl. You suck and swallow like a well trained slave, you know that." He wiped the last dribble of cum on her tongue as she sat there open mouthed and panting. "But you are dumber than a sack of rocks. I can no more change your sentence than you can. The law's the law."

The Sheriff zipped himself up and put his belt back on. "I suggest you make peace with yourself, and whatever gods you got because you'll be in the town square come noon."

As he left the room and turned off the lights Ellen sat there in darkness. She swallowed the last drop of cum, and began to cry quietly to herself.

--

The fem-vet, it turned out, was a local dairy worker. Ellen had protested, begged, screamed even but her fuckholes had been probed with the regulation equipment to confirm her A rating. She watched as her entry in the Bureau of Female Affairs registry was updated with a "Pending Termination" status, and two reservations on her were cancelled. She didn't recognise the names of the men who'd been waiting for her to hit the open market when her freedom permit expired. It didn't matter now. It's not like they cared for her beyond the fact the BFA had determined she was grade A, and her daddy hadn't bothered to change her base price from the suggested one, but only because he'd been willing to stump up the fees for her freedom permits.

Ellen had watched, her mind reeling in shock as the fem-vet had taken a knife to her remaining clothes to cut them off then burned them in the room's trash can. It was only a pair of stockings, denim shorts, panties, and a bra but they marked her out from the slaves on the street, as she was dressed. Apparently her shoes and shirt had already been dealt with as they were where blood had landed, they would be kept as evidence.

Ellen sat there still cuffed to the chair, naked and plunging into a world of fear, and shame. The fem-vet eventually packed up and left, leaving only a couple of deputies to watch her. This was as close to high security as the county could manage. She had no idea what time it was, but she could feel the seconds slowly ticking away. Each distant door opening, every movement in the corridor outside was like an icicle down her back. Was it now, was she ready? No one could ever be ready for what she would have to experience. How could they, she thought.

Eventually a new third deputy entered the room with an ominous looking set of restraints. First was the neck cuff, a steel piece simply bolted in place, it was heavy but irremovable once her hands were cuffed behind her again. A set of ankle cuffs added to her restraint, and all three were linked with a single chain shortened and punctuated by cruelly tight nipple and clit clamps that forced her into a painful and humiliating ducked walk that exposed her for anyone looking to see.