The Mistress and Her Justice

Copyright 2008. All rights reserved. This material may not be reprinted or posted on any other internet site without the expressed written consent of the author.

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Katrina watched the scene and mentally drifted back to an earlier time, a time when the situation was reversed and she was powerless and on her knees, a frightened teenager begging for mercy. It was thirteen years ago and had been in LA for six months after running away from her home in Duluth, Minnesota. She was working as a waitress at a diner to support herself and going to school at night to get her high school equivalency diploma. She didn't know what she wanted to do, but she knew that she didn't want to be cleaning up other people's dirty dishes for the rest of her life.

She met a guy while she was working at the diner, Ted, who took an interest in her and, after a week of parking himself at one of her tables, finally asked her out. He was nineteen, a little shaggy but otherwise nice, a little shy. He was "between jobs" and was a little vague about how he supported himself. Three weeks later, he picked her up after work in a shiny black Lincoln coupe. He said he borrowed it from his cousin for the night. She should have suspected something but was too naive and besides, she felt like a princess when he opened the door for her and she lowered herself onto the soft, plush leather seat.

He took her up to Lookout Point in the Hollywood Hills part of town. He had a quart of cheap Vodka and a half gallon of orange juice. He mixed a couple of tall screwdrivers in sixteen ounce plastic cups after they arrived at the scenic spot. She sipped her drink as he talked and gently rubbed her leg through her waitress uniform. She was nervous about the rubbing but the more she drank the less nervous she became. After a while she relaxed and started to get a wonderful tingling feeling in her groin. As she finished her drink she noticed that his hand was no longer on top of her uniform but was well under it, stroking the tops of her inner thighs, his other hand down the inside of the thin, cotton shift in back, rubbing between her shoulder blades.

She was feeling so good that she barely noticed when her seat started to recline, Ted working the control from his center console. In her fuzzy state of mind, time seemed to pass in jerky fits and starts rather than continuously. One moment, she was lying down in the seat, luxuriating in the soft feel and rich smell of the leather. The next moment it seemed, he was on top of her, the bottom of her skirt already up around her neck, her panties down below her knees and his fingers digging painfully into her vagina. She started to buck and yell but she felt weak and dizzy from the vodka and he was so heavy it seemed useless to resist.

He had his dick out of his pants and was rubbing it up and down her slit, when suddenly a blinding white light hit her eyes. A loud voice yelled "freeze, don't move!" Katrina was shocked and scared by the sudden light and loud voices. She didn't know what was going on and the vodka in her made everything "herky- jerky" as her door was suddenly flung open and Ted pulled unceremoniously off her.

"Get Your Hands on the Hood and Spread 'Em!" she heard through the fuzz of her addled brain. She still had no idea what was going on when she was pulled from the seat by two sets of rough hands and rolled onto the ground, pinned by a knee in her back.

"This car is on our hot sheet. You have the right to remain silent . . ."

She closed her eyes to escape the nightmare and, in what seemed to her moments later, opened them and found herself on the floor in a jail cell with seven other woman.

"Hey babe, looks like you've had a hard night. I be'n dare honey . . . Lordy, I be'n dare alright," she laughed and was joined in the laughter by the others.

Katrina looked up in the direction of the voice and through cloudy eyes saw the garishly made up black girl in pink latex hot pants, matching pink top and go-go boots. She started to sit up but her head hurt fiercely.

"What time is it?" She asked.

"It's five minutes to show time honey," the black girl said.

Katrina was puzzled by the answer, when she heard her name called by the guard through the cell bars.

"You're lawyer's here. Step up to the bars and turnaround."

Katrina stood shakily and approached the bars, stopping short of them and turning around. She felt a pair of strong hands grip her wrists and felt a sharp pain as a pair of handcuffs snapped on her.

She was led to a small room where a middle aged woman waited for her. Her cuffs were taken off and the door closed and locked behind her.

"Hi, my name is Sheryl Bailey and I have been appointed to defend you. Do you want to obtain your own counsel or do you want me to represent you as your lawyer?"

Katrina looked up at the tall, thin, immaculately dressed woman and said, "I don't know any lawyers and couldn't afford one if I did. What is going on anyway? I didn't do anything!"

"You've been charged with grand theft - auto. That Lincoln was stolen."

"But I didn't do it! It wasn't mine! Ted picked me up in it. He said he borrowed it from his cousin."

Sheryl looked down at a yellow legal pad on the wooden table, "that would be Ted McCauley?"

"Yes . . . yes, Ted, we've been dating for about three weeks. He picked me up after work in it."

"That's not Ted's story."

"What do you mean it's not his story. It's the truth!"

"That may be, but his story is that he never met you before; that you picked him up at a club in Santa Monica, and that he has two friends that were with him at the time that will swear to it."

"That's crazy!" We met at the diner. We've been seeing each other for three weeks. He picked me up last night in that car."

"Do you have any witnesses who can corroborate your story?"

"No, . . . He always picked me up after work. Nobody saw us together. We've mostly just been hanging out, . . . you know, going to clubs, movies and such. Nothing with other people."

"Well, I think you're in a lot of trouble honey. Ted got out on bail an hour ago. His father, Big Ed McCauley, somehow got his name bumped up to the top of the magistrate's arraignment list. I'm sure Big Ed will see to it that his son doesn't go to jail over this. That leaves you to take the fall."

"Who is Big Ed McCauley?"

"A lawyer honey, . . . a high powered lawyer, . . . about the highest powered there is. I'm sure he's lining up his son's alibi as we speak."

"What do I do?"

"Just do exactly what I tell you to do and you might get out of this."

Katrina started to cry. She tried to hold it back but it came poring out. Sheryl took her in her arms and hugged her, patting her on the back, rubbing her gently in the small of her back. Katrina liked the feel of her warm embrace. She felt her strong hands massaging her back and smelled her delicate perfume and suddenly felt safe, felt that everything would be alright. Sheryl shifted her hands to her shoulders, gripped them firmly, looked her squarely in the eyes and said:

"I know a judge who I think can help us. He's going on vacation tomorrow but if we move quickly and don't fight the charges, we might be able to get this in front to of him before he leaves and get you out on probation. What do you think?"

"Whatever you think is best Sheryl. I'm in your hands. I'll do whatever you say."

Katrina was returned to her cell, now empty after the "ladies" of the previous evening had all been arraigned and were out on bail. Time seemed to crawl by as she waited and hoped. Her stomach growled in hunger. She hadn't eaten anything since lunch the previous day, not counting the vodka screwdriver last night. She felt a little weak and dizzy. She closed her eyes to sleep and was startled awake as the guard called her name.

"Katrina! Get up girl, you're lawyer is here to see you."

She was returned to the same small conference room where Sheryl was waiting for her with a thick sheaf of papers in her hand. As she was led in and had her handcuffs removed, Sheryl came over and gave her a big hug.

"It'll be okay honey. I talked to the judge and he'll see you right away; as soon as you sign these papers. You'll be out by the end of the day."

She put the papers in front of Katrina and showed her where to sign.

"What am I signing?"

Just says you were joy riding - much less serious offense than grand theft and that you're sorry and will never do it again. The rest is all legalese. Don't worry about it."

She took the pen and signed and initialed in the several places Sheryl indicated..

"Good. Let's get you cleaned up for your meeting with the judge. The guard will take you down to the washroom where you can shower and freshen up. Here, I packed you some soap, toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant, hairbrush and spray, make-up and some fresh underwear - the stuff you have on is probably pretty gamey by now," she smiled.

She gave Katrina another tight hug, running her hands down her back and hips and back up. She took her face in her hands and kissed her lightly on the cheek, brushed her lips against hers and then kissed her again on the other cheek. Katrina looked at her and saw a strange look in her eyes. Must be my imagination Katrina thought, but she could have sworn that Sheryl gave her nipples a little brush as she moved her hands back up from her hips, and that look, . . . that look. As a very pretty girl, Katrina had sen that look before, but never from another girl.

The guard led her off to the shower room where she watched as Katrina stripped down before getting into the shower. The guard's heavy, drooping boobs heaved up and down as she took a deep breath after seeing Katrina's nubile young body stripped down to her panties and bra. Katrina was nearly in tears as she turned to hide her most private parts from the leering guard as she lowered her panties to the ground and stepped out of them. She quickly unhooked her bra and stepped into the large, tile covered shower stall. It had no curtain or door so Katrina kept herself turned away from the guard as she washed herself. She soaped up and rinsed off quickly to get out from under her leering eyes. Taking a towel off the hook, she dried herself and again turned to avoid the prying eyes of the matron She slipped on the fresh panties and bra Sheryl had packed for her. She could tell from the first touch that they were of the best quality - sheer black silk.

She put her light blue prison shift back on and her prison tennis shoes and then took her bagful of toiletries to the sink where she brushed her teeth, combed and brushed her thick red, curly hair and put it up in a ponytail. She carefully applied her make-up, not particularly liking the bright red lipstick but putting it on nonetheless because Sheryl had packed it for her. Maybe the judge likes the color, she mused to herself. Who knows. This whole thing is crazy but I gotta do whatever Sheryl tells me. She knows the system. She's the only one on my side.

She finished applying the make-up, eyeliner, rouge to highlight her high cheekbones and eyeshadow to draw attention to her beautiful green eyes. When she was done, she put her wrists out to the guard who cuffed her and led her out, letting her hand linger and squeeze on her tight little derriere.

Sheryl was waiting for her back in the small conference room. Her eyebrows rose in pleasant surprise and she smiled broadly when she saw Katrina come into the room. She motioned to the stocky guard to take her cuffs off, which she did, patting her bottom when she was done. Sheryl put her hands on Katrina's shoulders and looked at her closely, eyeing her from top to bottom, turning her around to see her from all angles.

"You clean up very well my dear. I think you will make a very good impression on the Judge. Just do what I tell you to do and I think you'll get out of this mess."

She brought her right hand up to Katrina's cheek and stroked it gently, then brought her closer and kissed her gently on the cheek and then on her closed eyelid as she massaged her shoulder and back with her other hand. Katrina felt warm and safe in the older woman's arms and was made a little dizzy by her soft perfume.

"C'mon, let's go. His Honor is waiting. We don't want to be late."

She took Katrina by the hand and led her out, trailed a few steps behind by the guard. Katrina looked at Sheryl and noticed that she had changed from her pressed, tailored business suit to a short black skirt and nearly see-through white blouse. She had even changed her hose and shoes from neutral beige to sheer black and low heeled, closed toed pumps to high heeled, open toed sandels. Her immaculate dark red polished toenails matched her long fingernails and, what appeared to be fresh lipstick. Katrina thought it was a little odd that Sheryl would dress so casually, and . . ., frankly, sexily, to see the Judge, but figured that she knew him and must know what she was doing.

They entered the anteroom of the Judge's chambers. Sheryl motioned for the guard to wait outside. The matron took a seat outside the door and smiled a bit as she left. She had been there before and knew it would take about an hour so she made herself comfortable. Katrina noticed that the Judge's secretary was gone, probably for the day, with the vinyl cover over her monitor and her desk clear. She looked up at the large, institutional wall clock and saw it was three thirty. She was nervous and she licked her lips several times to wet them. Sheryl took her by the hand and led her over to the brown leather couch opposite the secretary's desk.

"It will just be a few minutes. Are you okay."

"Yeah, a little nervous. What does the Judge want? If he knows I'm innocent, why can't he just set me free. Why does he want to see me."

"He wants you dear."

Katrina was silent; not sure of what she just heard.

"I'm sorry, what did you say Sheryl?"

"I said he wants you honey." Sheryl looked directly into her eyes as she said it and she wasn't smiling. She was still holding her hand and now was gently stroking the top of it with her other hand.

"What do you mean he wants me?"

"What do you think it means darling?"

"I . . . I don't know."

"I think you do. You're not completely grown up but you're not a child either. Somehow, I get the impression that you're not a virgin. You know what he wants - he wants what every man wants."

Katrina jumped a little, startled at the word "virgin." She was silent a few moments as Sheryl's words sunk in. This can't be happening, she thought.

"This is a joke, isn't it Sheryl. Okay, you've had your fun, now please cut it out."

"This is no joke Katrina. What you do the next hour will determine whether you go to prison, a real state prison, not this local lock-up, for a long time, years maybe, or whether you'll walk out of here free at the end of the day."

"Bu . . . Buttt, . . . But you said if I signed the confession and all I'd go free."

"No honey, I said if you signed it, I might get the Judge to let you off. I never said signing it was the only thing you'd have to do. Katrina honey, we only have a few more minutes before the Judge buzzes for us, you have to make up your mind quickly. I hope you'll be smart and play along. If you don't, . . . well if you don't you could get sent away for a long time. I've seen the Judge react very badly, very vengefully to being rejected. He can be a really mean son of a bitch. Don't cross him. It will go very badly for you.

"But, . . . but what does he want me to do?"

"Whatever he tells you to do and you must do it immediately, without argument or resistence. It will only be for an hour. You can do anything for an hour and you must, you must, if you want to get out of this. I'll be in there with you. The Judge likes me to play also so I'll be there."

"What if I don't. What if I just report this whole thing!" Katrina said angrily, eyes flaring.

Sheryl looked at her sympathetically, rubbed the top of her hand gently, kneading it with her thumb and said:

"I'm afraid he will send you to prison for a long time. The document you signed not only confessed to the auto theft but waived your right to a trial, submitting yourself for immediate sentencing to the judge, this judge. As for reporting this - honey, nobody will believe you. You'll be just one more convicted felon crying wolf."

"But, . . . but you know the truth. You'll back me up."

"I'd like to honey but I can't. The Judge has powerful friends. My career, and possibly my life, will be over if I cross him. No, I can't back you."

Katrina started to cry. Frightened, angry, she didn't know what to do. She was crushed completely when Sheryl said that she wouldn't back her if she reported the Judge. She knew she was trapped. He had her. She just wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

"Okay, . . . okay," she whispered, "I'll play along. I'll do what he says and I'll keep my mouth shut. I just want out of here. Whatever it takes, I'll do it."

"You show great wisdom and maturity dear. Just keep your goal in mind and don't fight it. Go with it. I'll be there with you. You might even have some fun," Sheryl smiled and winked a little at her last sentence.

Katrina nearly jumped out of her skin when the loud summoning "buzzzzz" sounded. Installed to summon his secretary for dictation, it served now to summon a "snack" for the distinguished judge. Sheryl helped the 'morsel" to her feet and led her through the connecting door to his private chambers.

End of Part 8