Judicial Punishment Lottery Pt. 05

Judicial Punishment Lottery - Interlude

By Gortmundy.

Readers, I thoroughly enjoy feedback. Please feel free to add comments.

This story takes place sometime after episode 4.

The story borrows heavily from the concepts and writings of GentlemanMariner and John_Doe_Stories

Margo DeVries rose and stretched a little unsteadily as she prepared to exit the aircraft. The flight across the Atlantic had been a typically tedious one but at least her boredom had been alleviated by the ministrations of her pleasure slave Sally, whose delightful tongue and skilful fingers had provided some relief from the tedium and had coaxed more than one gentle climax from her during the flight. That, plus a generous amount of the complimentary champagne they served in first class had made the trip quite bearable.

Normally such sexual behaviour was frowned upon aboard commercial aircraft, but in first class, some rules could be bent, some simply ignored, and the flight attendants in first class were used to turning a blind eye to the little foibles of their wealthy passengers.

She regarded Sally fondly and looked forward to reaching the hotel so she could allow herself to be properly pampered. She didn't consider herself a particularly cruel mistress, but the little pleasure slave had spilt some champagne earlier and she was quite looking forward to administering a light punishment. Nothing too arduous of course, perhaps a spanking and maybe a few strokes with her crop. She was quite fond of sally, who was actually a rather good and agreeable slave, young perhaps at only nineteen years, and somewhat inexperienced, having been a slave for only a year but she was well worth the expense.

Sally had been sentenced to four years of enslavement due to unpaid debts and destitution. It was a typically tragic case thought Margo sadly. The young woman had obtained a loan to pay for medical bills for an ailing mother but of course, had been completely unable to keep up the repayments. Much of her auction price had gone towards repaying those same debts making the slave slightly more expensive than usual, but she really was quite a lovely creature. Margo and her husband had enjoyed using her a few times together and of course, she had shown her off at her bridge club and had fond memories of the little slave crawling under the table to pleasure her friends.

Margo smiled brightly at the slave, "Oh do cheer up Sally, Scotland is a quite lovely country, I'm sure we'll have a marvellous time."

Sally smiled dutifully, "Yes mistress."

Margo looked around as she approached the customs gate. She had heard that Glasgow was a terribly dreary-looking place and looked forward to travelling up to her friend's private lodge in the Highlands. She could play golf, take in the splendid scenery, and perhaps do a little grouse shooting.

Checking that her valet Carlton had collected all the luggage she strolled idly towards the customs desk with Sally obediently following behind. "Oh Carlton, do you have the passports to hand?"

"Yes Mrs DeVries, I have them right here."

Carlton was a free man, an employee of her husband's, and Margo relied on him to manage her travel arrangements, a task he had accomplished admirably as always, and of course, it certainly helped that he was a very handsome fellow. In fact, she had decided to send Sally to his room after she was done with her as a sort of reward. She really did enjoy keeping her employees happy after all and she was sure Sally wouldn't mind, not that it mattered of course.

Taking the proffered passports from her valet she handed them over to the customs chap to check as she stood there smiling at him. The man had a typically stern appearance, but Margo was used to dealing with underlings, airport officials and petty bureaucrats, and she paid it little mind. Soon she would be away from this tiresome place and off to see the romantic lochs and mountains of this beautiful country. She had already boasted to Sally that she practically felt like a native, after all, one of her great grandparents had been Scottish.

The customs fellow examined the passports carefully and paused. He looked at Sally and appeared to be taking note of the collar around her neck. His eyes narrowed and beckoned for her to approach, "What's your name, Miss?"

"Sally, Sir."

"Hmm, it says here on your passport that your name is Elizabeth Foster, is that not the case?"

Sally looked down nervously, "Er, you see, it was but..."

Margo interjected impatiently, "What appears to be the problem? The young woman is obviously with me so can we just get on with this?"

The customs man barely spared her a glance, "I'm talking to the young lady. Step back and be quiet."

"I BEG your pardon!"

He ignored her and to Margo's annoyance continued to speak to Sally, "Elizabeth, what is your relationship with this woman?"

Sally blushed and hung her head before replying in a quiet voice, "I'm her slave, Sir."

"Oh aye, is that so? And would you mind telling me what function you served as her slave?"

Shame burned on her face, but Sally knew that as a slave she had no choice but to answer. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she spoke, "I'm her pleasure slave and body-servant Sir."

"Hmm, that's what I thought," he gestured, and two more customs officers approached, "if you would be so kind as to step through that wee gate there just to your left and go join my two companions over there please they'll see about getting that stupid collar off ye. In the meantime, I need to explain something to whatsherface here. Dinnae worry lass, you've no done anything wrong okay."

Margo was furious as a confused-looking Sally timidly followed the officer's instructions, and she almost shouted at the insufferable little man, "What the Hell is going on here! I demand to know what you are doing with my property?"

"Aye well, about that. Did you read up on anything about Scotland before you decided to grace us with yer visit?"

"Excuse me?"

"I didnae think so but if you had you might have been interested to know that slavery is illegal here in Scotland for one thing."

"That is preposterous. I have friends in London, and they all have domestic slaves."

The customs man shook his head incredulously and gave a long-suffering sigh, "Well London, unless it's moved suddenly, isn't in Scotland. That would be England. Just go south for a few hundred miles or so and you cannae miss it."

"Don't be facetious! I happen to know for a fact that slavery is perfectly legal in Great Britain. Now I demand you return my property, in fact, I demand to speak to your supervisor."

"You can demand all you like; my supervisor is far too busy to pander to the likes of you. But just so you know Scotland is an independent country, as is Ireland these days, and slavery is not legal either here nor there. It is, admittedly legal in England and Wales which might I suppose, explain your confusion, but that doesn't help you right now. Your property, as you call her, became free the second she set foot in this country. She's currently been seized, if you want to use that term, and made a ward of the state. You can file a complaint if you like, in fact, here's a form to do just that. Just complete that form and hand it in, preferably to someone else. Best of luck."

"You can't just take my property!"

"She's not your property though, is she? She's a free woman and unless I miss my guess, you're nothing but a fucking rapist. Now step back away from my desk before I have you arrested for causing a disturbance!"

Margo by now was almost incandescent with rage and began to shout and swear at the insufferable little buffoon. Carlton stepped forward trying to calm her down,

"Please Mrs DeVries, don't upset yourself, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement."

Turning to the customs official he drew out a wallet and proceeded to produce several large denomination bills, "Is there some fine or some donation we can make that might facilitate the return of young Sally to Mrs DeVries? As you can see, she's quite upset."

"I'm afraid not."

"You misunderstand, Mrs DeVries is a wealthy woman, I'm sure we can more than compensate you for any inconvenience."

"Are you offering me a bribe?"

"No, no. Not at all, but it's only fair you should be recompensed for your trouble after all."

The customs officer stared at the screaming woman and the oily little bastard in front of him, "I may be a wee bit thick, but that sounds a lot like a bribe," he leaned in close with an irritated sigh, "I dinnae suppose you would you do me a favour and maybe get that screaming banshee to shut the hell up would you? She's giving me a migraine."

Carlton whispered to him conspiratorially, "How much just to return the girl and we'll be on our way?"

The customs man leaned back and stared at them both coldly, "You twa pair of eejits are simply amazing, you really are," he sniffed, "Right."

At his gesture, two armoured Police officers moved across to the desk. Both had been watching closely and neither looked particularly friendly at that precise moment. Though admittedly one of them was grinning, though in a quite unsettling manner.

"Arrest these two would you please? Her for making that godawful din and creating a disturbance within the airport and this fool for attempting to offer me a bribe."

Carlton groaned but offered no resistance as the grinning Police Constable gestured for him to step closer, but he looked on in ever-growing horror as Mrs DeVries first refused to cooperate and then reacted to the other Police Officer taking hold of her arm by slapping the man across the face, knocking his hat from his head. There was a moment of stunned silence that was broken when Carlton whimpered, "Oh shit."

Sally had no idea what was going on as she watched her Mistress being slammed against the customs counter by an annoyed-looking cop. The woman cried out as her arms were wrenched behind her and she was roughly handcuffed before being unceremoniously dragged bodily away.

One of the customs men she was standing with looked on with amusement and muttered philosophically, "Aye well, hitting a Polis is a shite plan these days."

Sally looked on terrified and asked in a small quivering voice, "What's going to happen to me?"

"Eh? Oh now dinnae be upset, you've no done anything wrong. We're going to take you to an office and get some details from you and while we're doing that, we'll get this bloody collar off ye."

Sally almost panicked, "No! Please! You can't do that! I'll be punished, and it's against the law. They'll keep me a slave for longer."

The customs man stared at her and muttered something under his breath, she couldn't make out what he said but she became even more frightened because he seemed really angry. "I'm sorry," she whimpered.

He looked at her and spoke kindly, "Dinnae be lass, none of this is your fault. This is probably going to be hard to accept right now but you're not a slave anymore you're free."

"Free?"

"Aye, you see we don't allow slavery in this country. So as soon as that stupid woman dragged you here you became free. Thought it might mean you can never go back to America, but I don't know about that."

Sally began to cry, "But what will I do? I don't know anyone here, I have no money, I've got nothing."

"Well, the short answer to that is we will look after you for now. Once we get some details from you, we'll have a lady Police Officer take you to a place of safety where you can sleep tonight, and she'll stay with you until someone from the social work shows up."

"Social work?"

"I don't know what they call it in America, I suppose I can describe it as a government department that deals with all sorts of things, including helping and supporting vulnerable folks like yourself. Don't worry, we don't just cut you loose and throw you to the wolves. We'll do our best to get you sorted. Do you have family in the States?"

"Not really, my parents were separated, and my mother passed away not long ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that, about your mum. Well, we freed you, so we became responsible for you, at least in the short term. You'll need to apply for citizenship eventually if you want to stay, but that's pretty much a formality in your case."

"Why?"

"Because our Human Rights legislation forbids sending you back to a country where you'll be enslaved."

"I don't understand. Why... I mean why would you do this for me?"

"Oh, that's easy, we do it because we're civilised, and slavery is fucking evil. 'Land of the Free' my arse! Your lad Abraham Lincoln would be spinning in his grave."

"What about my Mistress?"

"That daftie just assaulted a copper, right in front of about a hundred witnesses, in an airport and certainly on CCTV. She's going to the cells, and she'll be up in front of the Sheriff tomorrow morning. It's a mandatory ten days of corrective therapy in a short-term prison for assaulting a cop these days. Then she'll probably be deported I would think."

"She's going to jail?"

"Oh aye, she certainly is. Hitting a Bobbie is no tolerated these days."

"Could I see her?"

The customs man gave her a wary look, "Maybe, we'll see what the social worker says first though."

"The lads are still searching her luggage, but they found this wooden thing, I think you call it a 'paddle'. She use that on you?"

Sally blushed and nodded.

"What a bitch! Well, I don't know if you care but her arse is going to be stinging for the next ten days or so and where she's going nobody will be using anything as 'playful' as that stupid thing, I can tell you."

Sally's eyes almost glowed at the thought, "Really?"

"Oh aye, corrective therapy is designed to make sure the subject never, ever, ever wants to repeat it. It's not very nice at all, in fact by all accounts it's fucking horrible. She'll probably get caned pretty much every day she's in custody if she's no careful wi that gob of hers, probably more than once. Then there's the thirty strokes or thereabouts she's due right off the bat for hitting a cop in the first place. Yea, I think it's fair to say Margo DeVries and that overprivileged arse of hers are in for a wee bit of a shock."

...

Margo had no idea what was happening! It was like some horrible whirlwind of fear and pain. She hadn't meant to slap that ghastly Policeman; she'd drunk far too much champagne and she was just so furious that she'd lashed out without thinking when he touched her. But she still half expected what normally happened when she put her foot down with menials (or men), they would look shocked and abashed and then apologise! This time though the man's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she was slammed painfully against the counter while he leaned close to her face and snarled, "You're fucking lucky you're a lassie and I dinnae go for hitting women, otherwise I'd be using your bollocks for a football right now! But any more shite out of you and I'm gonna kick your arse all over this fucking airport understand!"

She shrieked as he twisted her arms behind her and she felt the cold steel of the handcuffs biting into her wrists, "Aargh! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me."

The man snorted angrily, "Oh for fuck's sake! I'm no gonnae hurt ye if you behave, just quit being a fuckwit okay."

She wailed as she was dragged bodily across the concourse, stumbling as one of her shoes fell off. Her hair was a dishevelled mess and her mascara had run all over her face as the tears ran down her cheeks. Propelled through a door she was roughly shoved into a hard plastic chair. "Sit there and shut yer trap, you annoying harridan."

A female officer with fair hair looked up from behind the desk and glanced casually at her. Her gaze was cool and unsympathetic. She pushed her glasses back up her nose and sighed as she addressed the cop who had dragged her in, "Hola Dave, what's that all about?"

"Police Assault, Sarge, and a Breach of the Peace. She's a slaver, brought some wee lassie into the country and got pissed when they took her off her. Started shouting and bawling like a fishwife and then the stupid bugger slapped me."

"My my, most unwise. Ah well, have you given her her rights yet?"

"No, I didnae have time, I was gonna do the procedure now. You mind corroborating?"

"No probs."

Margo stared dumbfounded as the cop turned to her, "Margo DeVries, you have been arrested regarding Breach of the Peace, Assaulting a Police Officer and obstructing him in the execution of his duty, I must caution you that you do not have to say anything in regard to being arrested but that anything you say will be noted and may be used in evidence. Do you understand?"

Margo nodded frantically as she began to babble in panic, "I'm sorry, I really am. I drank too much on the plane. I don't know what came over me. I'm so sorry."

The cop sighed, "Margo, I'm going to remind you that you've been cautioned and what you're saying can be used as evidence. You might want to think on that before you say anything else."

The American woman looked around desperately, "But I don't know what to do! What's going to happen to me?"

The female Sergeant looked down at her for a long moment before she shook his head, sighed, and spoke in a slightly gentler tone, "I know this must be scary but you need to calm down okay? We're going to book you into our custody, and that means asking a lot of questions. They mostly relate to your health and such, so we can better look after you. You'll be searched, fingerprinted, photographed and a DNA sample will be taken from you, and then you'll be placed in a cell. Like I said, I know it must be very scary, but you'll be okay, nobody's going to hurt you or anything like that. While we're doing all that we'll contact the US Consulate in Edinburgh and inform them what's happened to you, and if you want to speak to a solicitor, we'll arrange that for you as well. Now I know it's a lot to take in but relax, it will all be explained to you as we go along, okay?"

The cop snorted in disgust as he looked at the handcuffed woman, "Sarge, you're waay too nice. From what I heard she's been abusing some wee lassie for about a year by the sounds of it. She's a right nasty piece of work and no mistake."

Marta stared wide-eyed at the man and shook her head desperately.

The Sergeant looked at her and took a breath, "You might be right Dave, but we're supposed to be professionals, and even if she's all the things you say she is, she's still a scared wifey at the end of the day and we're meant to be the good guys. There's nothing to be gained by torturing the woman or making it any worse for her than it has to be. See that you remember that okay."

Dave gave a snort of annoyance but nodded, "Aye, I suppose yer right, but you should have seen that wee lassie. From what I'm hearing on my radio she's still terrified this bitc... er... this lady is going to turn up and 'punish' her. It makes my fucking blood boil. That kid's about the same age as my wee girl you know."

The female officer sighed, "I know Dave, I know, but nevertheless, we've our duty to do," she laughed, "and if it was easy then any asshole could do it."

Dave grinned, "You calling me an asshole Sergeant?"

"Aye, of course I am, if the shoe fits and all that. Why don't you go make us both a brew, and Dave."

"Aye?"

The Sergeant nodded towards Margo, "See if she wants one too."

"Fuck me."

"Nice offer Dave, but you'd need to buy me dinner first."

"Would Mcdonald's do?"

"Oh, you're a true romantic you are Dave."

"I try, but only cos you're worth it Sarge."

"Well, fair enough. As long as I know where I stand."

"No need to stand Sarge, as long as I've got a face, you'll always have a place to sit."

The female officer gave a snort of laughter, "Fuck off Dave and go make the tea, you cheeky bastard."