The plan was that Miss H would purchase me at the auction and I would become her slave for the duration of my sentence. Yes, I would need to do some stuff to prove that I was actually her slave, but she would treat me much better than anyone else. I would be more of a friend with benefits to her than anything else. Think of me being a close friend that had fallen on hard times, and Miss H as the wealthy friend that took her in. Oh, I would have some 'duties' to perform for her, but that wasn't much of a hardship for me. Fuck, I was doing that anyway.
OK. Before we go any farther, I do need to explain a few more things. You are probably thinking that there is a lot of missing information about me. You are correct. There are two reasons that I refer to my best friend as Miss H. The first reason is obviously to prevent anyone from knowing who she is. Think of that old series Dragnet: "The names have been changed to protect the innocent." As for the second reason, I need to go back in time to explain a few things.
When I married my husband, I hadn't discovered a rather large part of my character. It was an accidental incident that changed my life forever. One evening while we were making love early in our marriage, we were doing it doggie style. We were in the grips of passion, when he took both of my wrists behind my back and gave me a hard swat on my ass as he was fucking me. I exploded. After a few more times, where he experimented with dominating and restricting me, we discovered that I experienced exponentially greater orgasms when that happened. Over a short period of time, we found that I was actually extremely submissive and got off on me being bound up and degraded.
My husband became my Master. Yes, I built up my business as a strong independent woman, but at home, I was my husband's submissive sex slave. As soon as I walked in the door in the evening, I stripped naked and put on my leather collar for him. On weekends, he took me to a very discreet BDSM club, where he had me service other Master's and Mistress's. We discovered that I am bisexual and enjoy being dominated by both men and women. I am not a fan of pain, though. After a couple of disastrous experiences, we decided that pain was not in the cards. I did get off on being humiliated and degraded though.
When my husband died, I was devastated. The only thing that got me through that period was the love and support of my best friend. Eventually, I began to start living again, but there was still a huge hole in my life. As time moved on, I realized that the hole that was left needed to be filled. Miss H and I had several long discussions about that, and eventually she took over a lot of the needs I had for domination. Still there was something missing. Sure, I submitted to Miss H whenever she called. She even enlisted the aide of several of her friends to ensure that I was well satisfied after a session. There was still a hole in my heart. That changed one day.
It had been several days since Miss H was available to have me over. I was frustrated and horney. I decided to go onto a website that I occasionally went to. It's called Literotica. It is a site where amateur (and occasionally professional) writers submit erotic stories for others to read and react to. There are several different genres to choose from. Me, being me, went to the BDSM tab. That was where my life changed for the first time. I found a story from an author that I had not seen before. There was a story about a very successful woman (she was a lawyer) that gave herself to several of her very close friends as a sex slave for a holiday weekend. There were several parts to the story, and I was enthralled with her experiences. Although she was a very successful lawyer with everything she could possibly want, she needed to completely let go of everything and become a mindless sex slave to decompress. After reading the third paragraph, I had totally identified with the main character. When I finished reading the first installment, I messaged the author. Little did I know what that would turn into.
GTO_Racer, the author's handle, replied to my contact email. It only took a day for him to understand my needs and desires. He became my online Master. Miss H became his enforcer. He gave me commands to do the most depraved things, and Miss H ensured that they were done. He required me to give my phone to whoever I was with. He would chat with that person and give them instructions as to what they were to do with me. He would have them take photos and videos of me performing extremely depraved and humiliating tasks. I would then be required to send all those photos and videos to Miss H for her to keep. Don't get the wrong idea here. I was a fully willing participant in everything. I can't even begin to tell you how many orgasms I had at Sir's orders.
There was one time when Sir had me go to someone's house and have sex simultaneously with 7 men. One in my cunt, one in my ass, one in my mouth, one titty fucking me, one in each hand, and one using my feet. I did that twice in a row. 14 men orgasmed with me within a half an hour. I drove home naked and covered in their cum.
Sir had me go to the beach for Spring Break one time. I was ordered to wear my blue Wicked Weasel semi-transparent bikini to the beach. I also had to wear a butt plug wit a large base. The object was to pick up a group of college guys. I ended up spending the weekend at their hotel room. I must have fucked a hundred guys and aa dozen college girls by the time the weekend was over. One memorable event was when Sir ordered me to tell everyone in a very loud voice that "I need to wear a butt plug whenever I go to the beach because I've been ass-fucked so much that I need a plug to keep the water out of my ass!" Talk about humiliating. I nearly orgasmed on the spot.
Another time, Sir ordered me to go to a sex shop and offer myself to all of the customers as a test subject for them. He also ordered me to ask the owner of the shop to call all of his regular clients and tell them what was happening. I spent the next 6-hours fucking, sucking, and being a test model for a dozen customers. I gave the owner my Black Am-Ex card and told him to charge all of the merchandise that was used on me to my card, then give those products to whoever used it on me. I also was required to give away all my clothing and jewelry to whoever wanted it. My $5,000 Armani Skirt Suit was given to a woman that came in with her husband. Thankfully, she was close enough to my size that it would actually fit her. My 1/2 carrot diamond earrings ended up with a college girl that wandered in with her girlfriend. They also walked out with about $300 worth of sex toys. My $10,000 diamond necklace went out with a truck driver that would be giving it to his wife for an anniversary present. Rings, and bracelets were also given away. As I mentioned earlier, I am very wealthy. Being told to give my wealth away to be fucked just adds to my humiliation and demeaning. I get off on that in a big way. At the end of that night, Sir had the owner of the adult store pick out the sluttiest and most demeaning outfit in the store for me to wear on my drive home. Of course, that drive was with my Corvette's top off, so that everyone would have a clear view of my condition. As a last order, I put on the sheer mesh outfit and laid down on the floor. Every guy that still managed to have a load available masturbated over me. I think the Owner actually went outside to recruit several guys, because I ended up having about 25 guys shooting their sperm over me. Sir forbade me from even doing the slightest clean-up until after I got home. Even though my cunt and ass were sore from earlier, I was so horney that I fucked myself to three orgasms with one of my vibrators that night before I could fall asleep.
OK, so what does that have to do with my current predicament? It explains the rest of my feelings at this time. Yes, my logical brain was horrified at what was happening, but my reptilian brain, as well as my body was taking control. I felt my panties getting wet from my depraved thoughts of what my slavery entailed. That's about the time that things went to hell in a hand basket.
"Because of the nature of the crime and the fact that restitution is still owed to the defendant's employees, I hereby order that the defendant's employees are awarded all business assets in order to take over the existing business. This is to ensure that the employees maintain their employment and are not unemployed because of their employer's crimes. I further order that the defendant be placed in Judicial Slavery to her former company for a period of not less than 20 years. Because she used her business accounts to commit her crimes, it is only fair that she is to become the property of those same accounts as a judicial slave. Should the business be sold or acquired in any way, she will be considered a company asset. Should the business be dissolved, she will be auctioned off as a company asset, and the proceeds of her sale will be divided up among the victims of her crimes as restitution." The judge ordered.
Well fuck. That effectively ruined all the plans Miss H and I had developed. Instead of me going on the auction block where Miss H could purchase me, I was now given as a Company Asset to all my former employees. The only hope I now had was that my former employees would put me up for sale with the rest of the company assets. A glance back at Miss H told me that she wasn't really optimistic about my chances. The smirk on Hector's face told me that he had been in discussions with a few of my former key employees. Hector was the team leader for the cleaning crew for my office complex. Over the last several months, Sir had me submitting to him and his crew as they cleaned my offices on Friday nights. His smirk as I was sentenced told me that I would still be submitting to him and his crew every Friday night. My sentence would not change anything as far as he was concerned.