📚 feminine imports Part 5 of 9
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NON CONSENT STORIES

Feminine Imports Ch 05

Feminine Imports Ch 05

by constantintoretto
19 min read
4.79 (7200 views)
adultfiction

Hey everyone! I'm thrilled that you've all decided to come back for more. I admit, there's a lot going on in this chapter, and it's longer than my usual entries. Therefore, I broke it up a little bit. Let me know if the pacing and/or length worked for you guys or not. The last thing I want to do is to write something that people have to slog through. My goal is to be accused of being an agent of the Lotion Industrial Complex!

Have feedback about something besides pacing? Feel free to leave that in the comments as well! Don't feel comfortable speaking up publicly? Shoot me a private feedback email! I love hearing from the community. Have I ever mentioned how great you guys are?

As always; consent is necessary. Obey the law. But hey, anyone high-IQ enough to be part of the ConstantinCrew already knew that anyways. Enjoy the chapter, mis amigos!

It had been ten days since the home invasion, and it had been one hell of a media circus. The five women were taken into police custody shortly after the police arrived to Steve's home. The detectives and forensic investigators showed up not long after that. Steve resorted to sleeping in his office during that time, even when the needs of the business did not call for it. Steve was mildly annoyed by the intrusive nature of the police presence in his home, but then stopped his internal complaining when he reminded himself that this was all a necessary evil.

As soon as the police report was written by the officer who had arrived to take the women into custody, Steve went to the local county jail to fill out five S-9 forms; one for each of them. The names, dates of birth, and other identifying details of the arrested women were now public record thanks to their arrest, thus Steve had all of the information he needed to fill out the enslavement forms. The Female Slavery Laws had language that allowed the victims of crime committed by women to seek ownership in lieu of financial compensation or prison sentences, but only upon conviction. It was a sort of legalized calling

dibs

on female perpetrators, with the victim of their crimes getting the first opportunity to do so. The S-9 forms also required a standard 72-hour STD panel on each woman to be performed; this was for the benefit of their soon-to-be-owner, though it also benefited the local government as well. After all, STD panels were less expensive than the cost of keeping an inmate behind bars.

At first, the local media reported the event as just a run-of-the-mill home invasion. However, once the contents of Kelly's and Michelle's backpacks were revealed-several plastic bottles of vodka and lighters is when speculation ran rampant. The media opined that the five women were connected to

The Pink Claw

women's liberation extremist group, and the community instantly made the connection to the arson of the auction house. The public outcry was both loud and persistent; the community wanted a conviction, and they wanted it

now

.

This pressure was felt by the police department and the district attorney. They both had a solid suspicion that the five women were likely members of

The Pink Claw

, given the similar circumstances of the two crimes. However, more time was needed in order to carry out a thorough investigation into their grander suspicions of a domestic terrorism network. Hounding masses of reporters were present at the home and office of the DA, constantly pressing for answers. This, combined with the fact that the DA needed a high-profile conviction to boost his chances at re-election in the next few weeks influenced his decision to proceed with the charges of attempted arson, forced entry, and trespassing. These charges were still felonies, and ones that had evidence to support them; DA's prefer slam-dunk cases over speculatory ones.

However, the community had to wait a few days longer than they would've liked for the trial. The investigators made relatively quick work gathering the evidence they needed from the crime scene in order to piece together what happened that night; that was not the hard part. The part of the process that led to the waiting, and hence the agonizing public pressure for the police chief and the prosecutors, was the medical condition of Rae and her crew.

Michelle needed immediate surgery in order to rectify her broken ribs from the force of her collision with Steve. Advancements in medical technology had enabled the use of lasers to fuse broken bones back together in many cases, assuming a clean break. However, Michelle's ribs were anything but, hence the need for the old-fashioned rods and screws to be implanted. Luckily, her internal bleeding was minimal, and the hospital had an on-site plastic surgeon to minimize the scarring on her chest cavity from the operation. Michelle woke up from her operation to find that her wrist was handcuffed to the railing per police protocol.

Crystal had a severe concussion, and needed several days to become fully aware of her situation. The neurologist who examined her noted that her symptoms were similar to football players and boxers that he had seen in the past. It took Crystal several days to no longer be sensitive to bright lights or sharp colors. She had to be contained in a darkened cell for her first few days of police confinement.

Rae wound up coughing out the excess water from her lungs rather quickly after police custody. The police station was able to treat her on-site for her hypothermia symptoms; after all, she was butt-naked, drenched thanks to the washing machine, and there was a frigid cross breeze thanks to Michelle's window cutting, Courtney taking out the kitchen window, and Courtney being used as a rag doll on the living room window.

Courtney needed a pint of blood to be transfused into her due to the blood loss. While most of her cuts were not serious, there were a few that required stitches. Her blood was tested for any signs of poison from the rosebush she landed in and was forcefully pulled from. Luckily, the test proved negative. Kelly's injuries proved to be the least serious; no broken bones or internal bleeding, and just some bruising.

Trial

The trial began as soon as all five of the accused were deemed medically fit for trial; a low bar since Crystal, Kelly, and Michelle were still in pain from their injuries. The five alleged home invaders were clad in the standard inmate suit and had a public defender to represent them. While the Female Slavery Laws had a chilling effect on crime, specifically on crime committed by women, the caseload on public defenders was still immense. At the peak workload several decades ago, a public defender had an average of eight minutes to prepare a legal defense. While it became better, the attorney had less than two hours to come up with a legal defense for Rae and her co-conspirators.

The prosecutor introduced the evidence against the accused. DNA samples were obtained from each member of Rae's crew during their medical treatment thanks to a warrant approved by the judge. The DNA evidence from Rae, and Kelly matched the DNA harvested from the skin cells found on the inside of their catsuits recovered at the crime scene; ditto for Courtney's sample and the blood trail starting from the rosebush. For Michelle and Crystal, they used DNA samples and compared them to skin cells found from the footwear removed during the invasion; another perfect match.

Outside of the DNA evidence, there was a lot of physical evidence used against the feminine burglars as well; the old lock on the inside of the bulkhead entrance had damage that could've only come from someone pulling on it from the outside. The rectangular window cut and the window cutting kit found from Michelle's backpack were also displayed for the jury to see, as well as Kelly's recovered lock-picking kit. Courtney's retractable baton had several small gouges from it that support the story that it was used to break the window she used to crawl into Steve's home. The size and shape of the indent in Steve's wall support the story that Michelle was slammed into the wall. The case was iron-clad; Rae and her busty babes had invaded Steven Sharper's home.

Not only had they invaded Steve's home, but the prosecutor was able to show that they had malicious intentions. He showed the several plastic handles of cheap vodka and the lighters recovered from the backpacks at the scene of the crime. These were damning pieces of evidence that they had malicious intent; specifically, that there was reasonable intent to burn down Steve Sharper's home.

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The poor lawyer assigned to their case was clearly in over his head. Most of his case relied upon the technicalities of how the evidence was captured. He challenged the probable cause of the DNA samples taken during medical treatment and whether the women had consented to this, though the judge over-ruled that argument; a warrant prevails over consent. He didn't even bother trying to question the validity of the evidence regarding the locks of the bulkhead and the two doors, nor had he tried questioning the window-cutting or the retractable baton. Just because these women were radicalized, that didn't necessarily make them skilled.

The public lawyer's last-ditch effort to get their client's acquitted was to question Steve's use of force and whether it was legal or not. However, the judge had shot down this legal argument as well after an objection from the prosecution. Steve's use of force against the alleged home invaders inherently implied that they were in his home against his wishes in the first place. Furthermore, the judge disagreed that Steve's use of force was excessive; the duty to use force to defend one's home, better known as the Castle Doctrine, had centuries of legal precedent and the Third Amendment supporting it. The judge had even commended Steven for using non-lethal force, even in a situation where his use of it would've been completely justified; home invasion, middle of the night, five-on-one.

During the trial, the judge was presented with the S-9 forms filled out by Steve two days after the home invasion. The judge gave the forms an obligatory scan and approved them on the spot. Rae and her co-conspirators died a little inside when they realized that this trial had so much more riding on it now.

The judge adjourned the court to allow the jury to deliberate. Rae and her fellow Pink Claw members were hauled away into the paddy wagon to be sent to the county jail. The five women were loaded in, and the panic had started to show; the involuntary foot-tapping, the lip-shaking, the iron-grip hand-holding, the shallow breaths. The paddy wagon made it half-way back to the county jail when it was ordered to turn back around and return to the courthouse; the jury had reached their decision after only 20 minutes. They all knew what this meant.

The soon-to-be-slaves were herded into the courtroom as the judge read the jury's decision; guilty on all counts of home invasion, attempted arson, and trespassing.

"In lieu of prison, I sentence you five to be immediately transferred to Mr. Sharper as slaves as per the S-9 forms" the judge said, the banging of the gavel had sealed their fate.

The five new sex slaves were brought to tears as they nearly collapsed. They realized what just happened; they had now become the enslaved women that they fought so hard to free. The bailiff whisked them away despite their distraught state into the basement of the courthouse. Rae and her fellow enslaved domestic terrorists couldn't help but to feel like victims, despite being literal perpetrators of crime. Once inside the drab grey walls of the secured basement, the legal procedure began.

"Alright, hands against the wall, stand still" - the bailiff ordered.

Once all five convicts had complied despite openly sobbing, he took five electronic slave collars out of a steel desk and wrapped them snugly against their throats. Once that was done, a county clerk had started the paper trail; the women's inmate numbers needed to be converted to SlaveCollar numbers in order for the collars to function as intended.

Steve strolled downstairs just as the boring minutiae was being wrapped up. He strolled over to the county clerk's desk.

"Mr. Sharper? May I see an ID?"

Steve smiled "With pleasure" as he showed his driver's license.

After an obligatory look, the county clerk started "Alright, here are the files of each of your new slaves, with all of the relevant medical information. All of the STD tests came back negative."

"Fantastic news" Steve answered. He turned to the bailiff "Can you please remove their uniforms and zip tie their wrists behind their backs? After all, those uniforms belong to the state."

"You know what? I don't usually take requests, but since you asked so kindly, I'll make an exception this one time" the large bailiff replied "You heard the man, ladies; everything off!" he barked, his tone making it clear that Rae's crew were not the ones in charge.

While the bailiff got started stripping Steve's new slaves and restraining them, the county clerk picked up where he left off with Steve. "Alright Sir, the SlaveCollar works by-"

"I run a slave trafficking company, I know how it works" Steve cut in crudely "Let's just get started."

The county employee nodded "Very well" as he searched for nearby SlaveCollar apps. He tapped on the one labeled with Steve Sharper's name and hit

Transfer

. "Sending them to your app now, they'll start off in

Tether Mode.

"

Steve saw his phone flood with five incoming notifications; one for each of the transfers that he needed to accept. Each one had a number, and a first name attached to it. Steve tapped

Accept

on all five notifications. A minute later, he found himself the proud owner of five new slaves. He looked up from his app to find that the bailiff had removed all of their clothing and had used the riot zip-ties to restrain their wrists behind their backs.

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"Alright fucksluts, single file line, facing forward, you five are going to walk naked and barefoot out to the parking lot to my van. I'll take you to your new home, and explain the rules" Steve started "Get moving"

"Go absolutely fuck yourself Napoleon, you gross little manlet" Crystal hissed.

Steve exhaled as he picked up his thick manilla folder and began thumbing through it. He began to think out loud "Red hair, glasses, colorful half-sleeve tattoo" he flipped until he found Crystal's file, complete with her mugshot "Ahh here we are, Crystal's her name" to nobody in particular.

Steve used the app to deliver a six-out-of-ten electric shock to the busty nude redhead. Crystal dropped to her knees in searing agony as she wailed like a banshee. A moment later, the electricity had stopped coursing through Crystal's body. She regained her senses shortly thereafter as Steve stood over her.

"You asshole" Crystal blurted out, in a noticeably raspier voice.

"Alright, round two" Steve motioned as he pulled up his phone.

"Crystal, just stop" a voice shot out "Please honey...for all of us. He" she gulped, trying to choke back tears "He owns us now."

Steve walked towards the slave who said that. "What's your name, honey?"

"Michelle, sir"

Steve kissed Michelle with such a ferocity that it caught the defenseless feminist off-guard. Steve plummeted his tongue uncomfortably far down the spectacled brunette's throat as he passionately kissed her. After an awkwardly long embrace, Steve pulled himself off of her to address the rest of the group.

"Looks like Michelle's the smart one here" Steve mused half-jokingly. He slapped Michelle's ass "Seriously, the five of you, get your slave-asses moving. My van is waiting in the parking lot to take us home."

The five nude captives marched forward against their will up the stairs, and through the entrance of the courthouse as they hung their heads in shame and humiliation. Steve led them to the parking lot where one of the windowless black vans from his company was waiting. He took his time opening the rear door, letting the windchill of the biting Northeastern cold take the fight out of his newly acquired sex slaves.

Moments later, the slaves couldn't wait to get inside the van, if for no other reason than a momentary reprieve from the excessive windchill from their naked bodies, not to mention to get out of the view of the general public, who had gradually gathered around to ogle Rae and her friends. Once inside the back of the climate-controlled cargo hold of the van, Steve grabbed a manila envelope from the glove box and then went into the cargo hold., closing the door behind him.

Whatever momentary relief the women had when they were finally shielded from the gawking of the onlookers was dashed when Steve revealed the contents of the envelope; five black ball-gags. He grabbed Rae first, she squirmed and struggled against him, but Steve proved to be too much for her, doubly so since her wrists were zip-tied behind her back. Within a moment, Steve had crammed the ball-gag into her mouth and secured it into place. He grabbed Crystal next, who similarly resisted, though ended with the same result. Kelly, Michelle and Courtney accepted their gags without a fight.

The walls of the van were lined with crates, one-by-one Steve guides each one of his slaves into the cages. Just like with the gags, Rae and Crystal resisted, though Steve's technique and grip strength proved to be too much for them. Kelly, Courtney, and Michelle got into their cages without resisting. After locking the cages, Steve hopped out, shut the door behind him and hopped in the driver seat of the van. He raised the one-way window behind him, thus blocking the slaves view of the outside world through the windshield, then took off.

After driving for about 15 minutes. Steve stopped the van and cut the engine. He got out and began unloading the five slaves. The sudden daylight had a temporary blinding effect after being in the dimly lit cargo hold, which worked to Steve's advantage. He effortlessly removed the women from their cages. Once their eyesight re-adjusted, their hearts sank as they found out where they were; Steve's home!

Steve locked up his van, then turned to the five naked and ball-gagged female felons standing in his driveway "Alright whores, into the house...the front door this time" Steve chuckled.

The slaves walked gingerly, their soft bare feet against the rough pavement slowing their gait. Steve slapped Courtney's ass as they gathered onto the doorstep; the rosebush to the left of the front door.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Steve laughed, though all Courtney could do was mumble an incoherent though unappreciative gargled mess.

Steve led them to his basement. Upon reaching the foot of the staircase, he stopped and turned towards Kelly, harshly fondling her breasts.

"Hey caramel drop, trip down memory lane, isn't it?" Steve taunted. Kelly rolled her eyes and gargled some incoherent protest through the ball-gag, clearly not appreciating the one-sided comment.

He turned left and rounded the corner. "As you can see, I've had some work done to the place since you five cum-buckets last paid me a visit. I hope you'll enjoy your stay at

Hotel Sharper

" Steve laughed at his own cruel joke.

There was a reinforced floor-to-ceiling cage with a padlocked door tucked around the corner from the staircase. He unlocked the door and ushered his new flesh-playthings inside, where he motioned them up against the wall. "You five, shoulder-to-shoulder, then kneel."

Rae refused the command, though a quick five-out-of-ten zap from the SlaveCollar app momentarily cured her of her defiance. "Yeah, I'm not afraid to use this thing, honey. "

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