[Fiction] Working Off A Debt

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Chapter 1: Intro

“We find the defendant guilty,” pronounced the selected jury member. Rachel’s heart sank. She was in a court room standing trial for what seemed to be a minor offense. Looking up, she tried to gauge the judge’s reaction. She would have to pay the money back, she was sure of that, but what else might the judge do? Rachel was hoping for community service.

“In addition to the twenty thousand dollars you stole, you will be fined two hundred thousand dollars for this offense.” Rachel was stunned, unable to respond immediately.

“Two hundred thousand dollars?! I don’t have that kind of money,” Rachel finally gasped out.

“Nonetheless you must pay the fine. Since you do not have the financial means you will have to work it off. I will let you choose, you may work at Canning and Packaging Industries where they will pay you $4 an hour or you may work at FemProduct Co. where they will pay you anywhere from $150 to $1000 a day based off of work performance.” Rachel did some quick calculations in her head. At $4 an hour it will take me more than 20 years to be done! No matter what FemProduct Co. does, it has to be better than spending 20 years of my life canning and packaging.

“I would like to work at FemProduct Co. your Honor,” announced Rachel. Wordlessly the judge motioned to the nearby guards to take the condemned girl away. The guards marched her out of the court house and straight to a waiting van.

Chapter 2: Measurements

Rachel sat in the back of the van, hands still bound together by handcuffs . Though the van bounced with potholes in the road, she ignored it. She wondered where did everything go wrong? It had all seemed so perfect. Rachel, now 19, had ran away from home only a few months ago. Her parents had never really had time for her, and she knew her absence wouldn’t be missed. Unfortunately, the $20,000 she had brought with her certainly was missed. For a while things were good. She used the money to from party to party. It was like all of the summer vacation from college, with none of the college. When the cops finally caught up with her, her parents decided they’d let justice take its course and had left her to the court’s decision.

The van came to a slow stop and the door slid open. “Come with me,” a guard said gruffly. He grabbed ahold of her arm and used it to drag her out of the van. She decided it was better to be led willingly than to be dragged along the asphalt. The guard led her into a clean white building. Inside, the building seemed almost like a hospital, so like a hospital in fact, Rachel began to worry she was going to become some kind of medical guinea pig.

At the end of the hallway was a room. “Go inside,” ordered the guard, with a push to punctuate his demand. Rachel awkwardly opened the door with her handcuffs still on, and hobbled inside. The room was a large office. Except instead of chairs, much of the floor was empty. A series of tape measures lay on the desk as well as a small stack of what appeared to be paperwork. A middle aged woman was sitting, in the only chair in the room, behind the desk.

“Hello, hello!” greeted the woman. “My name is Mrs. Q and I am the director here at FemProduct Co. Please do shut the door behind you and come closer so I can see you better. I like to do all the introductions here at my company. We’re all a very familiar bunch so no need to worry.” Rachel awkwardly closed the door leaving the guard outside. Whatever was going to happen next she was glad to be away from that guard finally.

“Come now, let’s get you out of those nasty prison clothes and in to your work outfit. I hope you’ll find it much more comfortable than your present clothes.” Mrs. Q walked up to Rachel and used a key to undue the handcuffs. “First we’ll need to measure you to make sure we get the right fit, and we’ll need to take down some medical information for safety purposes.”

“Medical information?” Rachel stuttered. “Am I going to be some kind of test subject?”

“Test subject? No not at all! As I said, the medical information will be for your safety only, just encase something were to happen and all that. Not that anything is likely to happen, haha. Anyways, please remove your clothing now so I can get proper measurements.”

“My clothing?” Rachel clenched her arms around herself instinctively, she’d never been naked in front of a stranger before. All those parties and still no physical contact; she had always been too chicken.

“Yes your clothing, come now, we’re all women here and there’s nothing to fear.” Rachel slid her arms down and began undoing her sneakers. Kicking them off, she tentatively pulled her pants down exposing white panties, one of only two clothing items she’d been allowed to keep when she’d been incarcerated. Mrs. Q watched, appearing impatient for Rachel to finish. Rachel reached up and removed her thick prison shirt revealing a white bra, the only other clothing item she’d been able to keep. Rachel had large breasts, and as such, shopping for bras could be difficult, making her especially protective of her top.

Rachel stopped and waited for Mrs. Q to begin using the measuring tapes she had so clearly laid out. “You’re not done yet, now hurry up and take off the rest of your clothes so we can continue.” Mrs. Q was clearly unhappy at Rachel’s hesitation. Rachel, reached back and began to undo her bra, her hands unsteady and nervous making it more difficult. Her bra came off and she let it fall, ever so slowly, onto the floor. Her breasts freed from the bra sprang out. “And the bottom…” urged Mrs. Q though Rachel thought she could see the edge of Mrs. Q’s mouth curl up in what might have been a smile.

Rachel’s panties slid to a floor and before they hit the ground, Mrs. Q was encircling Rachel in a measuring tape. She measured from the top down. The tape started at her shoulders, pulled tightly across her front and back. It slowly inched down until it was across her breasts. “Very good” whispered Mrs. Q seemingly to herself. She was furiously writing numbers down on a click board. Then a measuring tape went around her waist. It slowly inched its way up until it was firmly beneath her breasts. Rachel could feel her face flush with red, this touch finally setting her over the edge. She brought her hands up covered herself reflexively.

“Put your hands down this instant!” Mrs Q. demanded. “Ouch!” Rachel cried out. A blow from a ruler hand landed on Rachel’s otherwise unmarked butt. “You are to put your hands back at your side and to keep them there or you that will be only the first part of a long punishment!” Rachel lowered her hands, her fear of Mrs. Q overpowering her embarrassment.

Mrs. Q continued measuring, her tape measures covering every curve of which Rachel’s body had many. She placed a tape measure around Rachel’s ankle and then began to move upwards, inching towards Rachel’s unshaven vagina. Just as Rachel thought she could stand it no longer, the tape measure stopped.

“I think we’re done here.” Mrs. Q announced. Rachel sighed as Mrs Q placed the clipboard into a slot in the wall. It was sucked into the slot. Before Rachel could blink there was a thud as a package of clothing was spit out of the slot. “We have state of the art tailoring machines here, I think you’ll find these clothes fit perfectly.”

Rachel took the clothes from Mrs. Q. and noticed some items were missing. “Where are the panties and bra?”

“Underclothing is superfluous. It’s just another set of clothes which have to be made and washed. You won’t be wearing either of them for the duration of your stay here.”

Rachel was frustrated, but knew she could do nothing. The clothing was made of something extremely soft and silky. The top was a t-shirt, though despite the claims of mechanical tailoring, it was very tight. The shape of her breasts was easy to make out through the cloth. Next, Rachel pulled the bottom, a skirt. It was extremely short; while covering her, it only went a few inches down past her butt. She was certain if she bended over, sat down wrong or even walked too fast, she would be exposed.

“You look great. The clothes fit you perfect. Now please fill out this medical questionnaire and we will be on our way.” Rachel took the clipboard and quickly read through it. It was very standard except for a single question which seemed to be a carefully phrased question asking what forms of sexual contact she had experienced. Figuring it was best to answer truthfully, she wrote “none” and gave the paper back to Mrs. Q.

“Excellent!” Reading the paper, Mrs. Q smiled widely. “Now please come with me and we’ll enter the facility.”