The Law of private ground

 

 

 

 

The Law of Private Ground

 

Introduction

 

If our government has been outstanding for something through history, that is for sure it’s exceptional capability in finding whom to blame:  On which group to focus the population’s rage for their own misdeeds.

 

The fact would be rather trivial if not cause they use to carry it out in such a superb way that the citizen really believe that all their problems were de facto related to and caused by that designed group, acting in consequence.

 

 

It’s not important at all that this focus has switched from Indians to the black population, from Communists to Muslims, from Russians to Arabs, always the group in the hurricane’s eye suffered for it, with everybody abusing and nobody defending them.

 

It happens that once again the citizens were unhappy, unruly, close to civil war. Too many taxes, too much stress, everywhere they found restricting laws and problems. The lawmaker themselves were lost in a quagmire of interests and interpretations.  The hyper-regularization was only bringing chaos. The government realized, too late as always, that it’s impossible to fulfill the conflicting wishes of too different groups. Nobody was happy and if the situation worsens there would be riots, plunder, rapes and murders.

 

The point was to find a new enemy, a group to which the main population would easily have access to discharge their rage.

 

President Morrison came up with the main idea after a quarrel with his wife. He, the most powerful man in world could not even have a smoke after lunch because of his wife’s endless complaining. He, the President of the United States was afraid of turning his head when in company of his wife. He, the culmination of the American Dream, made love once a month and in total darkness.  No, he wasn’t bad-tempered, nor was he overstressed it was his wife who held him in constant bad mood.

 

Suddenly, realization dawned. Women were the BIG PROBLEM. They were out of control and worse, trying to control everything.

 

“We need new laws” he told his closest collaborators “lets to prepare the ground for it”.

 

New TV programs emerged, new forums, a new way of telling the news, new laws and absolutely new regulations; it was the beginning of a New Era.

 

One of those regulations was nicknamed “My home my Castle” cause in the typical unintelligible legal jargon it sanctioned any measure a (male) ground owner would take on his ground;

 

Another one was nicknamed as “peacemaker” and was a kind of zero tolerance regulation with any disturbing attitude, quarreling or rebellion.

 

 

The Mecklers

 

 

Holly was in her kitchen preparing supper. Sitting at the desk, her husband, Henry, looked at her and realized once again how pretty she really was.

 

She was nearly 6 feet tall and 37 y/o, but in such a shape that often people mistook her for her step-sons’ older sister.

In fact their daughter Molly (17) was taking after her mother and at first glance they looked confusingly similar, like sisters or even twins.

 

Both of them had got black hair and green eyes, were slim but well endowed in their upper department; their long legs and round asses were also a plus. All in all, both were really pretty.

 

When Henry had married her 14 years ago, both were young single parents. She cause of a divorce and him a widower with two little boys.

 

 

“Holly, today in the office we’ve had great fun” he told his wife.

 

“Really?” She asked without stooping cooking.

 

“Oh, yes, you remember Martina, the blonde one in HR? He asked and went on when he saw she nodded “today we’ve stripped her naked, collared her like a bitch and walked her through the office on a leash, on her fours.” He explained as if explaining a football match.  Ronnie, the concierge, even stuck a feather duster into her blonde cunt, and made her wiggle it like a happy bitch…

 

Holly was horrified, but lately it was somehow politically correct to publicly humiliate grown up women. So she kept silent and just nodded again. She remembered that just a few days ago on TV the young news reporter misspelled twice an Arabic name and on the spot her male colleague administered a spanking on her naked ass. He made her strip totally, fondled her to his heart content and than after parading her around, he spanked her. All this happened in front of the running cameras and in prime time.  There was no “kid warning” and in the way the cameramen filmed her colleague’s spanking you could easily have taught a complete course of female anatomy.

 

Engrossed in her thoughts she missed some of Henry’s next sentences “… has established funny rules at office” He finished saying. She didn’t dare to ask about them and went on preparing her family’s supper.

 

Molly, Martin (16) and Michael (18) came in like a whirlwind. The latter drove his siblings home making Molly wait for him and Martin to take their karate lessons.

 

The boys were in best mood, whilst Molly clearly showed she’d just stopped crying. 

 

“Mom, its horrible” Molly started in a low voice “I don’t want to go to school or at least give me enough money to come home on my own”

 

“Help me to put the table and then explain us what’s so disturbing” her mother said moving around the kitchen.

 

Finally the whole family was sitting at the big wooden desk in the dining room. Father and sons used the sofa and watched TV, mother and daughter in front of them, on chairs. Behind them on the left was a big plasma screen and on the right the door to the rest of the house.

 

“What’s it to you, Molly, my heart” Asked Holly really caring about her daughter.

 

“The boys at school, the teacher, and my grades…”she started crying again“… and Martin and Michael…”

 

Some hick-ups came up.

 

“Keep quiet Molly, keep quiet” Her mother embraced her warmly. She could understand that her daughter had problems with boys, grades and teacher, but what happen with Martin and Michael?

 

She decided to ask her sons right there.

 

“Michael, please tell us why Molly is crying?  What have you done?”

 

“Mom, come on, that’s not important now” came the lenient answer “we are watching the news”

 

“MICHAEL” she shouted “I don’t care about the news, why is your sister crying?

 

“Well, ahm, it’s …” He stuttered.

 

“She had problems accepting the new car rules” came Martin’s prompt answer.

 

 Martin, even being the youngest one has always been the leader. He was stronger built than his brother and for sure he had got the higher IQ.

 

“Car rules?” “What kind of bullshit is it?” Holly’s voice denoted real anger.

 

“Darling, calm down” Henry intervened “putting a hand on hers “let the boys explain it”.

 

“Today at school, Mr. Washington, our social sciences prof.”  Martin started “explained the new laws and he pointed out that the best way of showing ownership is imposing rules”

 

“Yes” Michael enthusiastically shouted “In our classroom he even made a practical demonstration”

 

“A practical demonstration?” Henry’s interest was real. He perfectly knew how they (the men at his office) were bending these new rules in their own benefit.

 

“Yes, Daddy, a practical demonstration.” Michael, normally more the quiet type, was ecstatic remembering it. 

 

Holly had no interest in knowing about that practical demonstration, her real concern was about her daughter.

“Martin, what kind of horrible rules have you devised” she asked her younger son.

 

“Mom, is it Michaels car or not? Martin asked.

 

“Of course, but…”

 

“Then he is free to make new rules come into force, isn’t he?”

 

“MARTIN” Holly was getting angry “stop talking bullshit and explain what the hell has happened”.

 

“I enforced a no-panties-rule” Michael quietly said. “In my car no female is allowed to wear panties, anymore”

 

“You are nuts…” their mother started, but she was interrupted by Martin, somehow encouraged by his fathers smile.

 

“Mom, we didn’t make her throw them away, we kindly permitted her to bring them home.”

 

“They stuffed my used panties into my mouth…” came a crying intervention from Molly.

 

“Ahh”, Michael remembered” and in MY CAR no female is allowed to talk if not answering a direct question”.

 

Holly was out of herself. “You are both grounded” she shouted and…

 

“Darling you’ve no right to treat MY BOYS like this” It was the first time he made a distinction between their kids and Molly feared the worst.

 

“You perfectly know their conduct is according to law and if they think that in their car no female is to talk or wear panties I sanction it.” Henry’s voice was stern and firm. Molly was softly crying, the boys widely smiling, but Holly wouldn’t accept her defeat so easily.

 

“Henry, darling, my god, Molly is like their sister you can’t be serious…”

 

“I’m dead serious; in fact I herewith declare these same rules coming into force in 30 seconds” He said banging his fist on the table. “And” he added “any male when in this house is allowed to check as he sees fit the correct performance of these rules.

 

“HENRY” Holly shouted and wanted to add something else.

 

“15 secs left, darling, or I give you both something to really cry about”

 

Holly hurriedly stripped of her panties. Molly didn’t move.

 

“Molly?” Henry menacing asked.

 

Martin stood up and lifted his step-sisters skirt showing a nicely trimmed, young cunt. He patted it with his left hand and stuck the hem of the skirt into the waistband.

 

Martin has been fancying his step-sister for years. When he occasionally had brushed her clothed ass or tits and got a boner from it. And now he was casually patting his sister’s nude cunt and in front of his parents; the smallest contact with his trapped and pulsing cock would end in an uncontrollably cumming.

 

Molly was so ashamed she didn’t react. Here she stood in front of her whole family showing her most private parts, and worst getting patted as a lap dog. Neither the fact that she should keep her skirt raised, showing all the time her young pussy to father and brothers did nothing to comfort her.

 

Holly was about telling her son to stop molesting his sister when Michael tried luck raising her skirt also.

 

“Michael” she cried “stop that”

 

Wupp! Wupp!

 

Ahhhhhhhh!

 

Henry had spanked her ass, twice, and with his slipper.

 

“Let him make sure you are not cheating, darling. Visually and manually” He added.

 

“But Henry you know I…”

 

“Wow Martin look at this” Michael shouted when a perfectly denuded cunt came into view.

 

“…shave” Holly finished her sentence in deep shame.

 

Michael wasn’t bold enough to fondle his step-mom but Henry encouraged both his sons to make sure she wore really nothing. Martin immediately placed his hand on cupping all her twat and inevitably came into his pants, then Michael also felt his step-mom nether lips, more caressing than cupping

 

 

The Diaz

 

“…but what the hell have you done with all that money?” Maria angrily confronted her husband. “We were saving it for our daughters’ college” Maria couldn’t just believe her eyes when she had opened the annual balance of their daughters’ savings. There were nearly 25000 $ missing.

 

“I spent it” was Ramon’s laconic answer. Ramon Diaz, 35 y/o worked for a large shipyard. He had started there 17 years ago as longshoreman and he still looked like one: 6,5 feet and 220 pounds with not an ounce of fat.

His actual job was a lot better and better paid but his friends were still the same.

 

His petite, blond wife looked angrily at her dark-haired husband and not satisfied with his answer she went on inquiring: “You spent it? You spent it? What for?” How could he be so insensible?

 

“Well…Mike, Robby, Dan the Fat, Sherman and I were often to “The Club” since it opened some months ago”

 

“The Club? What rotten place is “The Club”? A dive? A whorehouse? A…a …. a screw-track?.”

 

“Maria, please, there we meet with Tatiana, Robby’s second wife and Mike’s twin daughters, Melanie and Jennifer.”

 

“But, the money is gone, my god, you egoist, you swine, you …”

 

“Maria, shut up” He suddenly cut of her verbal excesses “I do what I want with my money”

 

“Your money…?” She wanted to argue but again he told her to shut up.

 

“Yes, my money, you perfectly know it’s my money.”

 

“And if you want to know about “The Club” you’ll know, you’ll certainly know” his voice was low but the hidden menace chilled Maria to the bones “… and Mandy and Fanny will also know” He finished leaving the house through the same door he had come in five minutes before.

 

“No, Darling, wait I was just…”

 

He was gone.

 

“…surprised” finished Maria near to tears.

 

Yes she knew how things were now. She was suffering the changes each day at work (not to talk about wage cut), on public transport or wherever she met people. Every bloody evening she patiently listened to her daughters relating the injustices they were going through. ‘Damned Morrison’ she thought.

 

“Ding dong” The doorbell rang.

 

“Darling I…” her voice died in her throat.

 

At the door there were 4 enormous policemen.

 

“Ms Maria Diaz?”

 

“Yeees ?, Its me” She answered whimpering.

 

“Your husband has brought a lawsuit against you for picking a quarrel. Please turn around. You are arrested.”

 

Even before she could react she felt the handcuffs on her wrists.

 

“But, I,  please let me at least change into…”

 

“Unruly prisoner” Another policeman barked and without further ado he shoved a gigantic ball-gag into her still talking mouth.

 

Finally she got a bark-collar and then unceremoniously she was lead by a leash through her front garden to the waiting police van.

 

She felt deeply humiliated. Some neighbors were looking as she was lead away handcuffed and on a leash, she felt like …like a bitch. Mr. Meckler even waved his hand happily.  He called his wife to show her the fate of rebellious women. She immediately started caressing his growing cock whilst he enjoyed his neighbors fall from grace. She was rapidly learning to adjust to his new draconian house rules. 

 

The police van wasn’t empty.

 

“In you hop” One of the cops said and half slapped half showed her ass in.

 

Fixed by their collars to the van 3 women looked at her when the rear door opened. They were gagged, handcuffed and uncomfortably tiptoeing over a horizontal bar cruelly cutting into their most private parts.

 

Soon she too was tiptoeing over a bar. They had manhandled her with expertise but with no respect, as if adjusting furniture or assembling a mockup. During her positioning they fingered her slit, fondled her cunt and groped her ass, but they did it as if part of their job.

 

She was sweating and whimpering when finally they arrived the City Court.

 

Some hours later she was brought into a hall marked as “Court for Ultimate National Trials”. She was no expert in Laws, but the word “Ultimate” meant there would be no possibility of retrial.

 

He eyed her up and down as looking at a criminal. There she stood in white sneakers, jeans and a red top, not to mention the bark-collar, ball-gag and cuffs.

 

“Your offense is serious Ms. Diaz” he started sternly looking at her “This country cannot afford any more agitators and you should learn your place in society” With a movement of his head he indicated the guard to remove the prisoner’s gag.

 

“Is there anything you would add in your deplorable defense?” He asked with a hidden mocking tone.

 

“Your highaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh….” She was cramping on the floor wetting herself. The bark-collar didn’t allow louder tons then whispers.

 

“Well I see… unyielding” He said and made a gesture for her to be re-gagged.

 

“As for your offense I sentence you to 3 years of social work at your home nearest facility, but for your inexcusable behavior at court I sentence both your daughters to realize the same labors you’ll do, but at their college and home.”

 

‘Guilty, she has been found guilty’ it was hard to swallow. She meekly followed the tug of her leash ‘but at least I’ve been sentenced to social work and not to prison’

 

Once at home and after a shower and a coffee she read the terms of her sentence. ‘It’s not as bad as it seemed’ she thought: ‘Social work at her spare time for three years.’ Uniform and further instructions would be provided by the facility. She wasn’t familiar with the facilities’ address. It was not the beggar’s hospice, nor the old people’s home.

‘Well I see’ she thought.’ The only annoying thing was her bark-collar; she was not allowed to remove it for the next three years.

 

Now she understood the collars she saw each time often. They were not in fashion; they were imposed by law, but being humiliating nobody talked about.

 

Another black point was her daughters’ sentence. ‘How could they carry out the same labors at college? Perhaps helping in the dining room, cleaning, etc. ‘Yeah’ she thought ‘It may even be convenient after all’

 

The evening was uneventful. She informed her husband in a low voice and he just nodded. Jenny (16) and Mandy (17) came crying from school and they were more interested in relating their experiences than in listening to their mother.

 

 

Social Work

 

“Maria Diaz it is, isn’t it?” Mr. Steven Taylor asked and without awaiting an answer he sentenced “I hope you understand that here in my Club you do as told or you face again the Judge with your ass looking like a Zebra”

 

Maria just nodded. He stood up and inspected her walking around and slightly touching here and there.

 

“There’s your uniform” he said pointing at a small chair in the corner with some clothing item on it.

 

Maria looked at her uniform and didn’t know if to laugh or to cry. How on earth was she supposed to serve drinks and other entertainments dressed like that? Her bark-collar, ultra-high heeled boots, fishnets, a leather corset, a cap and long rubber gloves, everything in dark, shiny black. That was all, her tits would be on display same as her pussy and ass.

 

“You’ll start on Monday” the Club owner, told her now blatantly fondling her ass. “The first week you’ll be attending tables just to warm up, afterwards your duties will be extended”

 

Mr. Taylor let himself fell into a rocking chair before ordering her to put her outfit on ‘to judge the effect’ he said.

Whilst she was battling with her costume and her own pride he read again the sentence of his new employee.

 

‘It would be nice to have a look at her daughters’ he thought imagining them in the club’s uniform.

 

“Stand here next to me,” he said when finally she appeared wearing her humiliating clothes “hands behind your back, open your legs, yeah, nice”. His hand slowly fingered the humiliated housewife’s slit. “Perhaps we shave it off. Would you like it? He questioned looking at her.

 

Ashamed she shook her head. That wasn’t what she expected when sentenced to social work. ‘How many people were going to see her naked?” ‘Has she been sentence to become a community whore?” 

 

‘My god, Amanda and Jenny are sentenced to THIS?” Nooo, not to this, my god…!

 

Her thoughts frightened and somehow excited her, this fact added to Mr. Steven’s knowing finger made her suddenly aware of an mounting orgasm.

 

Mr. Taylor had noticed she was slightly fucking herself on his fingers and slowly increase the rhythm.

 

“My god I’m cumming” she whispered and clenching both her legs together she rocked on his hand.

 

The interview was over and with a hard slap on her as she went home.

 

On Monday she was to find at the Club entrance exact that picture: She in her uniform cumming on Mr. Taylor’s hand.

 

The picture’s dimension was at least 2 x 2 meters. A lot of people were looking at and commenting it. In fat bold letters the title advised : Ms. Diaz. Our latest acquisition. See by yourself – cum in.

 

 

 

The Club was in full swing when suddenly she recognized her husband’s co-workers. She prayed to be struck by a lightning but instead of she was called by Sherman.

 

The fact that her thumbs were trapped by the tray made it impossible for her to shield her parts or to avoid any advance made on her by whomever and the bark-collar impeded her to tell them to stop.

 

There she stood, in her uniform, facing Mike, Robby, Danny and Sherman. It looked gorgeous on her. Her short blond hair contrasted well with the black cap, her generous but firm tits looked appealing, the cruelly tighten corset  reduced her waist and made her ass look bigger. In the front, a thick plaited strap, cutting deeply into her womanhood and rubbing constantly on her clit, connected to the rear of the corset.

Like this she got aroused and her moistening slit was clearly visible, even in that half-light. Her high heels protruded it further as if asking for attention. Attention she was getting.

 

 

“Hi, Maria, nice to meet you” he said and without standing up he boldly proceeded to fondle the naked ass of his co-workers wife.

 

“I like your outfit” Said Robby stretching out his left hand and totally cupping her pussy with it.

 

Mike, who now stood behind her, cupped both her tits and said “Yeah, Rob, a lot better than what she used to dress before”

 

“Please, please” she whimpered not daring to raise her voice cause of the collar.

 

She knew these men, she considered them friends, kind of, but now they seemingly considered her lower, to low indeed to show any respect. Danny or Dan the Fat as his friends used to call him commented about her blonde bush whilst softly fingering her exposed labia.

 

She felt totally humiliated and when Dan the Fat commented she was moist down there raising laughter, she could have died on the spot.

 

Finally they ordered their drinks and she was dismissed with a smack on her ass.

 

Ramon wasn’t lying when he said that at The Club they met Tatiana and the Monroe Twins. She recognized Tatiana when serving some beers at her husband buddy’s table. The impressive Russian was on her four blowing Danny whilst Mike was mind absently finger fucking her. Tatiana’s husband, far from being jealous, was getting his cock cared by Mike’s daughters. With both of them sitting astride facing him, Melanie on his left and Fanny on his right leg, he enjoyed both: their young cunts and the spectacle of his former pride wife giving head to his friend.

 

Whilst she stood there getting her ass fondled by Sherman, Tatiana finished Danny off and crawled…

 

‘My god she is crawling like a bitch’ thought Maria suddenly realizing that the bark-collar was more than just a control device. It was a clear status indicator.

 

..and crawled over to Sherman who then, with renewed vigor massaged, fondled , pinched and probed Maria’s exposed sex and ass.

 

 

If her first day at The Club had been humiliating a lot worse was her next day at work. Well, to tell truth it got worse as soon as she got home. If women in that new political climate had fewer rights than before, collared women seemed to have none.

 

On the bus she really didn’t pay attention to the continuous, more or less evident, hands molesting her. After a whole afternoon suffering probing and evil finger on and in her most private parts, an occasionally cupping of her ass or brushing of her breasts was everything but alarming.

 

“Good evening Ms. Diaz” Greeted Mr. Meckler when she stepped out of her car, late that afternoon.

She politely nodded with her head not daring to speak, cause of the damned bark-collar.

“Could you please come over for a moment?

 

Even it was a question the tone was commanding and without talking it would have been difficult to deny, so she complied.

 

 

To be continued…