Minor Assa ult

Jay waited nervously in the court-room corridor with a male guard sat next to her. She noticed herself fidgeting, her fingers scratching at the clinking handcuffs around her wrists. It was a bad habit of hers, always needing to do something with her hands. She supposed that's what got her into this mess.

She was a bank clerk, working at the World Order Savings and Loans department as an expert on housing conveyance and collateral. She'd done well to get the position, having a knack for numbers and data analysis at school and studying hard at college, despite how complicated things had been growing up. Since the World Order had taken over, things had calmed down, albeit with the sinister threat of slavery hanging over everybody's heads, but Jay had still struggled as a young woman on her own. Jay herself didn't own any slaves; she couldn't afford them, and the whole thing left a bad taste in her mouth.

It had been her manager, the disgusting creep Tony, who had been suggesting they get slaves as new employees for the department, to take the load off everyone's shoulders. It's not like they had any employment rights. Jay hated the idea and told him directly to his face, but he persisted, fantasising openly about how arousing it would be to have ****-girls around the office, to do anything at his whim. One day he'd appeared behind her in her cubicle, and had begun making unwanted sexual advances towards her, suggesting that she could be his own little office ****. Jay was an attractive woman. At 27 she had a good athletic body that she kept healthy with a steady diet and exercise, and she wore her brown hair a nice fashionable shoulder-length. Tony had lowered himself right beside her ear, and whispered to her that she could be his little office slut. That does it, she'd thought. She turned around and slapped him squarely in the face, telling him if he ever did anything like that again, she'd report him.

This had apparently been all Tony needed, Jay realised to her horror. Like the little snitch he was he immediately reported the "****" to the police. Despite her protests, Jay was arrested only twenty minutes later, right there in the office for everyone to see! It had been humiliating.

Now it was four days later. Jay didn't have any real family to speak of, a cousin off in a distant country, but her parents had died during the bad times. So she didn't have any money for bail and Lord did her friends not have enough either. So she'd been awaiting her trial the entire time in a jail cell, surrounded by other women, all there for similar minor infractions.

The doors to the court-room opened. Jay instinctively stood up, with the alert guard standing up quickly with her, but she didn't make any attempt to run so he relaxed. Jay saw the other prisoner, an attractive blonde woman in her 30s, leave the court-room in tears, surrounded by a troupe of menacing-looking guards. Jay did not like to think about her own chances if that was how the previous prisoner left the court. After a few more minutes an attendant came out to let them know the judge was ready to see them now.

Jay was surprised to see that the judge was a woman, severe-looking with silver hair and piercing eyes covered by crescent-moon spectacles. The court consisted only of the judge, a copywriter, the attendant, and a selection of guards. Jay wondered, shouldn't there be a defence lawyer or something? She'd never been offered one for counsel, even when she was in jail. Would she have to make her own defence?

"All rise," the judge stated in a querulous but otherwise firm voice. She may be old, but she's been in this job a long time, Jay thought as she stood,

"Jay Presswell, 26-years-old..."

"27," Jay couldn't stop herself, and shrank in terror at the older woman's hard stare. The judge proceeded to ignore her,

"26-years-old, a secretary at housing acquisitions with the World Order banking services," (secretary? Jay thought, but knew better to say anything else), "arrested for minor **** of one Anthony Goodman, manager at the same organisation." The judge started tutting, that couldn't be good, "You offered sexual favours to Mr Goodman in return for a promotion in the company..."

"That's a lie!" again Jay couldn't stop herself, but this was total bullshit! Tony that rat-bastard scum! Again the judge looked at her sternly, but still ignored her,

"When he refused your advances, you punched him in the face, causing minor fractures to his cheekbone and jaw." Jay couldn't believe what she was hearing!

"Miss Presswell?" Jay looked up hopefully, "do you have anything to say in your defence?" Finally! Jay was so relieved, this was exactly what she needed. She could set the record straight,

"Yes...your honour. I...um...yes," Jay suddenly realised just how nervous she was. Her whole life lay on this defence, "He, Tony, was the one who made advances towards me, your honour,"

"He made advances?"

"Yes...your honour. He did not respect my personal space, whispering into my ear and suggesting that I could be his little office slut, pardon, your honour."

"And what happened next."

"I slapped him, your honour."

"You slapped him?"

"Yes, your honour, but only after this provocation."

"So you did **** him?"

Wait, what, Jay thought, are you serious?

"Well, no, I didn't **** him. It was a slap. It barely would marked him!"

"You made violent contact with his person physically, am I understanding this correctly?"

"He was sexually harassing me!"

"Then you file a report to have him disciplined by the company. It is obvious to me that you are of a violent disposition, Ms Presswell."

Jay stared at the judge in shock. How could she be so obtuse? Yes she technically did slap him, but so what? It wasn't anything! He'd provoked it!

"I think I've heard enough," the judge reclined in her leather seat. Jay stood there, defeated, her eyes glancing at the copywriter, another young woman, typing furiously everything that was said. The typing eventually stopped, and Jay looked back up at the judge,

"Ms Presswell. It is clear from your confession that you are a violent and dangerous individual with no respect for the law..." Jay found herself shrinking into herself with disbelief. The judge could not be serious, could she? "...in the World Order we do not tolerate such behaviour. As a result you must receive a punishment fitting of the crime."

Jay found herself relaxing a little. Okay, the preamble sounded bad, but a punishment fitting the crime? The crime was even listed as minor ****! Minor! That didn't warrant slavery, did it? Surely she would just get community service? Or 50 days in prison? Something like that, right?

"I sentence you to 100 years of slavery..."

Jay's mouth dropped wide-open in horror. Her fidgeting hands were now sweating. Her heartbeat was racing a million miles a second. She'd heard that wrong right? Her mind was playing tricks on her. This was all just a bad dream...

"...all your assets will be seized by the World Order. You will be processed, tagged and prepared for auction in the coming days. Any attempt to resist this judgement will be dealt with severely, and may earn you a harsher sentence," the judge tapped her gavel, "this concludes this session. I will now be retiring for a half hour recess."

Jay's mind was in turmoil. 100 years? No that couldn't be right. She wouldn't live that long. Assets seized by the Order? What assets? All of it? She would own nothing? She felt herself finally break from the shock and her tongue managed to work again,

"You can't do this to me!" she screamed, "this is insane!" The guards grabbed her, preventing her from running up to the judge's podium. Again, the judge just ignored her and exited the room. Jay continued screaming, struggling in the guard's arms as she tossed and squirmed about. It was no use. They dragged her out of the room kicking and crying, past the next prisoner in the corridor, and hauled her downstairs for processing.