by Nicola Diaz
THE END
SPECIAL PREVIEW
Enslave Me!
I stood in the cold, dim court-room, certain that I would find a way out of the mess that I had found myself in. I had always been able to find my way out of troublesome situations, and I assumed that this time would be no different. I watched patiently as my attorney shuffled through his paper-work, preparing for his final statement in the case. I hoped that he would come up with the right words to express my innocence in the case.
Bruce stood on the opposite side of the court-room, and I bristled very time I saw him turn and speak to his attorney. I wanted to know what they were plotting against me, but it was impossible to hear what was being said. I took a deep breath and decided that if my attorney did the best job he could, then there was nothing else that I could do. I had to simply let the chips fall where they would, and accept whatever verdict that was given.
The judge slammed his gavel down in one final demanding order. He had made up his mind, and for the crime of stealing Bruce’s business idea, I would be dealt out a severe punishment. It came as sort of a surprise. I knew that Bruce was a wealthy business-man, and I knew that he had sold a lot of his business ideas to other clients for a hefty price. Yet I wasn’t expecting him to turn so severely on me for my wrongdoings. Victorian England was not the place for punishments. I had heard of people accepting harsh punishments, and I didn’t want to be one of them.
My jaw dropped when I heard the judge’s order. Surely he wasn’t serious. I stood back, my hands folded in front of me, and hung down my head. The order called for slavery. It wasn’t unusual for such an order to be created as a means for paying off student loan debt, or even for paying a fine. Yet for stealing a business idea? And one that wasn’t even that unique, anyway? I was both shocked and appalled. My cunning and stealthy ways failed me this time, and I wasn’t exactly sure how to react.
The judge declared that in one hour, I would either have to scrape up enough money to pay back the expense of stealing Bruce’s idea threefold, or I would be enslaved under Bruce’s specific precepts. They must have known that this would put me in an immovable situation. I had nowhere near the amount of financial assets that they required, and I had nobody to procure them from, either. I felt at once hopeless and frightened.
As I stood in the court-room, watching a light rainfall over the dark and gloomy streets of England, I tried to think of how this would play out. Where would I be taken? How would I be able to endure the severity of the punishment? I hoped that they would have some mercy on me as a first-time convict, but I couldn’t place all of my hope in such a thought. I would have to be as well-prepared for whatever they instituted as possible. I would have to move forward and be strong about whatever happened.
As the judge gathered his papers and stepped down from the platform, I stood in silence. Bruce and his attorney shook hands and then started to walk out of the court-room. I straightened my shoulders and took a deep breath. Then I slowly approached them. “Bruce. Excuse me.” I batted my eyelashes and flicked my long blond hair over my shoulders. I knew that men found me stunningly attractive, so I assumed I could win over Bruce’s mercy.
My attorney stood to the side, knowing that I was both fearful and frustrated with the verdict. He watched silently as I stood next to Bruce, waiting patiently for his attention. When he finally turned around I smiled, but he grimaced and then laughed. “You don’t really think that you could win me over with those big eyelashes and that fake smile of yours, do you?” He was a big man, with a bald head and broad shoulders. I flinched when he spoke to me, a little bit defeated by his response. I did think that I could win him over. Maybe I just needed to use more of my charms.
“Look, Bruce. I’m only human, and we all make mistakes.” I pushed out my large breasts, having always been able to get a man’s attention and forgiveness with just a few glimpses at my buxom figure. He only laughed again. I fluffed out my hair and then smiled, seductively. It didn’t seem to be working. This was unusual for me because I had always been able to get a man’s attention and use it for my benefit.
“I could have any woman in England, Chloe. And believe me when I tell you that I don’t find thievery becoming on any female, including you. But you’ll see. One day you’ll realize that you messed with the wrong person.” He placed his hands on his hips and then shook his head. “To think that you actually thought you could rip off my idea and get away with it is just appalling. But I’ll get over it.” He chuckled and then spun around.
My attorney approached me and put his hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off. “Slavery? Thanks a lot. You could have gotten me out of this, but you failed me.” I was furious. The judge waited outside of the court-room and watched as the sheriff handcuffed me and led me to the front of the holding cell. My attorney followed, shaking his head. He looked defeated and frustrated.
“Chloe, I tried as best as I could. But what you did was hard to defend, and even with all of the strings I pulled, there just wasn’t any way for me to get around this sentence. I’m so sorry. But I think you’ll be okay.” He watched me with a forlorn expression as the sheriff dragged me away. He turned the key and unlocked the cell door, as I stood looking at the empty space. There was one small metal bench inside, a sink, and a toilet. I turned around and then watched as the sheriff locked me in.
“Bruce is filling out some paper-work. When he’s finished, which should be in about an hour, you’ll be police-escorted to his mansion, and led inside. You are to remain silent at all times. As soon as he opens the door to his mansion, you will be handed over to Bruce. He will be given the key to the handcuffs, and then your slavery sentence will begin.” The sheriff spoke briefly to me and then walked away. I looked at the sink, and then looked at the toilet. It was damp and dingy. I tried to close my eyes and wish the entire scenario away, but it was no use.
I sat on the bench and pulled my knees to my chest. It was cold in the cell, and I was hungry. I waited for the sheriff to come back, and about two hours later, he returned. He unlocked the cell with his large, metal key and led me out to the corridor. Bruce stood with his hands on his hips, a folder tucked underneath his arm. He watched as the sheriff opened up the back of his police vehicle and ushered me inside. I sat down on the back seat and looked out the window. A crowd was gathered outside of the court-house, and they all had pensive looks on their faces.
The drive to Bruce’s mansion was long and silent. All I could hear was the squeaking of the windshield wipers on the glass, and the sound of horns blaring in the distance. I closed my eyes temporarily, trying again to will the scenario away. When I opened them, we were in Bruce’s circular driveway. His property was finely landscaped, and the mansion stood alone, perched atop a hill that overlooked the rest of England. I waited quietly as the sheriff opened up the back door and led me to Bruce’s steps.
“She’s all yours now.” The sheriff grinned at Bruce and then turned around and got back into his car. “If you run into any problems, feel free to dial the station. Someone is there twenty-four hours a day to answer calls.” The sheriff tipped his hat and then got back inside his car. He started his engine and then pulled out of the driveway and into the dark and rainy afternoon. Bruce tugged at my wrists and then directed me into his home. He used a remote and suddenly the large, wooden doors opened. We entered a large, marble foyer, and then Bruce clicked the remote once more to close the doors.
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