The Court: Last Resort Ch. 01

jack involuntarily jerked back against the chain that stretched his collar as it was yanked twice by the strikingly beautiful Lady who held the little leather loop at the other end of the chain, his leash, as it were. He stood in a large room, paneled in old, dark oak, windowless, solemn and foreboding. It was like so many other rooms that he had seen before, courtrooms where he plied his trade as a trial attorney. This one, however, had some unique twists that truly made it a court of "last" resort as Lottie had termed it. Usually a trial was preceded by weeks or months of discovery, preparation, infighting and intimidation - the standard dance of the defense attorney, or any trial lawyer for that matter. Not so in this court. There was no discovery, no long witness lists, no voir dire of the jury panel, no continuances and, most importantly, no appeal. The verdict of guilty or not guilty would be handed down by the Chief Judge, a Domme of great repute, and the sentencing would be concomitant with the verdict. The punishment would not be delayed by any great length of time, it would be carried out in the courtroom with all the participants to the trial and invited onlookers as witnesses as a necessary part of the trial. He had little doubt of the outcome since Elena was the presiding Chief Judge. Yes, readers, THAT Elena, one of Lottie's dear friends. He sighed and peeked at the room.

The bench where the Judge sat was at one end of the rectangular room, a raised dais so she could look down at the accused and all others had to look up at her. Symbolic, but effective. There were two small tables in front of the bench designated for the prosecutor and the defense attorney. Next to the defense table was a set of stocks that the defendant had to kneel to get into. Innocent until proven guilty? No, not in this court. In theory there was no presumption of either innocence or guilt, but when one is locked in stocks at one's trial there is little doubt of the implied presumption. There was a low railing behind the defense and prosecution tables. That was the ancient "bar" so often referred to when speaking of lawyers. The bench and bar – the judge/court and the attorneys. The spectators sat behind the bar on benches. All this was daunting, but not as daunting as what lay between the bar and the bench. The large area was replete with more instruments of torture and bondage than he had seen even in the most complete dungeons in which Lottie had tormented him so lovingly in the past. That was a huge psychological factor in the trial, kneeling in stocks, naked and looking at all those instruments while his future was decided by the Judge and lawyers, all of whom were clad in their finest leather. He knelt, laid his wrists and neck in the appropriate depressions in the lower half of the stocks and felt the hinged top half close over them. With a pronounced "click" they were closed and locked, as was his fate as far as he could tell.

A door opened in the corner of the room, next to the bench, and the female bailiff sang out the familiar words, "oyez, oyez, oyez, all rise. This Court is in session, the honorable Lady Elena presiding." When she had seated herself at the bench the bailiff continued, "All be seated." There was a minor rustling as the spectators and attorneys sat, and he kept kneeling.

Looking at the two attorneys, and smirking at him in the stocks, the Judge asked, "are you ready to proceed?" Both attorneys responded in Order, "the prosecution is ready, your Honor," and "the defense is ready your Honor." The trial had begun and jeopardy had attached as never before in his career.

The Judge nodded at both counsel, "very well, let us proceed with a reading of the charges."

Lottie stood and spoke in a clear and ringing voice that was as clearly accusatory as it was beautiful. "The accused slave is charged with willful neglect of his Domme in that on the dates May 24 through August 25 he failed in communicating with Her via telephone or email. He neglected his obligation and sworn duties to his Domme and, although he has expressed regret, has not shown any reason why he should not be punished for his crimes against the Sisterhood."

The judge looked at me in the stocks and shook her head in disbelief. "Lottie, have you more to add?"

Lottie replied, "not at this time, Your Honor, but I reserve the right to amend the charges as the trial progresses." She then sat down, at the defense table. Yes, some court! She was the complaining witness, his owner and his defense counsel. She might as well be the prosecutor and Judge for all it mattered.

Once again turning her attention to me the Judge asked "how say you to these charges, slave jack?"

Keeping my eyes to the floor, as was the custom for all slaves, I responded "guilty with extenuating circumstances, Your Honor."

"Allright," the Judge said as She turned to the clerk of the court, "please note that the accused has plead guilty and the Court accepted the plea and finds him guilty as charged."

I sputtered, "but Judge, isn't the accused afforded an opportunity to give a rational explanation for his actions prior to the Court finding him guilty?"

A scowl preceded the snide words from the Judge, "slave, my poor little slave, you've already been convicted of these heinous crimes and now you wish to explain WHY you violated your obligations? That could only heighten the penalty, if not add further charges, since it would be an affront to this Court to try and explain away that which you did. Disobedience and willful neglect is inexplicable, absent poor training, of course. Is it your wish to claim that Lottie was less than stellar in her training of you and thereby put her on trial for YOUR sins?"

For a fleeting moment I almost fell into that particular trap. It was a thin straw to grasp and my prior training and experience brought me very near to the brink of disaster that the Judge had invited. Not only would it be untrue that Lottie was remiss in any way as to my training, the fact that I would even imply that would be grounds for dismissal, AFTER I had suffered whatever fate the Court may impose. The Judge was indeed experienced and was not offering me a ladder to crawl out of the hole I was in, but rather a shovel to dig the hole a little deeper. "No, Your Honor, that is not my intent. Lottie was not remiss, I was."

For the first time in the proceeding the Judge smiled, then addressed Lottie. "I see why you value this one so much, Lottie. He almost fell victim to his prior training, but caught himself in time. That is testament to Your training of him. Overcoming years of prancing his egotistic self around courtrooms is indeed a tribute to Your abilities and keen eye for slave talent."

"Slave," the judge said as She turned back to me, "were you in a coma for those two days, or otherwise incapacitated so that you couldn't dial a telephone or type on a computer?"

"No, Your Honor."

"Than there is no excuse for what you did, or didn't do. Yours is a crime of nonfeasance, of inaction. That is much worse than a crime of malfeasance. At least that would have been a failure to act correctly rather than a failure to act at all. I find you guilty and we shall now move on to sentencing. Lottie, what are your recommendations in this regard?"

'Oh, great,' I thought, 'she is my owner, my defense counsel, the complaining witness, managed to get me convicted without the prosecutor having to open her mouth, and now she gets to sentence me too. Why have a Judge?'

"Your Honor, I believe we have ten more trials this evening, 4 male slaves and 6 female slaves. With the Court's blessing I shall punish him in my own way for the next week, but for tonight I believe we should put his legal skills to work for our...I mean THE OTHER ACCUSED SLAVE'S...benefit. I ask the Court to sentence slave jack to defend the next ten cases, and should he win a case he will escape punishment – for that case. Should he lose a case he shall suffer stride-for-stride, lash-for-lash and use-for-use with the slave he so inadequately defended. He shall do so here before the Court and assembled guests as will his clients."

There was a murmured vote of appreciation from the assembly as to this sentencing recommendation. Like I'd win a case! They would get to see two slaves punished at the same time, watch me take ten-fold the punishment of any other slave, and each slave would be spared the ignominy of being the sole object of any punishment. I had long ago learned the defense attorney's mantra of "when, during the course of a trial, it becomes painfully obvious that someone is not going to leave by the front door of the court, make sure it's the client that goes through the jail door." Well, this certainly gave that a new twist. Clarence Darrow himself would blanch at this task. I'd been set up as blatantly as the hanging Judge, Roy Bean, would have done and in a manner I'd never suspected. Kudos to Lottie and the Judge. Than again, they WERE women, and therefore in charge.