By Kinkabella
Archived Here With Her Kind Permission

Part 26 - Head Down, Bum Up

I spent a few minutes just familiarizing myself with the various piles of folders and until I felt comfortable with where I should start. Mr. West had said he wanted me to start with the Standard Enslavement Papers file, which I located, and then pull together the information from the other file folders.

The Standard Enslavement Papers file had a single folder containing a thick wad of stacked sheets. The very first one I looked at was for "Rogers, Belinda" and after thumbing through a few of the ones beneath, I saw they were all filed here in order of enslavement date, with the most recent being on the top.

I felt somewhat guilty for the first couple of minutes as I read through Belinda's file. The first few lines contained all the expected routine details; name, date of birth, and so on, and included space for things such as known medical conditions (none) and prescribed medications (none). But then it became 'interesting'. Her sworn statement read:

"I, Belinda Rogers, of 17 Denton Street, Eastlake Heights, do hereby swear and affirm I had vaginal sexual intercourse no less than three times during the 30 period prior to this date with Anthony Scott (boyfriend). I further declare under Statutory Oath that this intercourse took place with my consent and that no item of value or promises thereof was made by Anthony Scott to obtain this consent."

In itself it was unremarkable, but underneath her signature and just above an official County Court Seal, was the notarizing signature of none-other than Nelson B. Smithfield (Notarizing Agent & Attorney at Law)

My thoughts wandered back to the previous evening when Belinda had mentioned how Nelson had molested her and that he was a close, person friend of her father. Surely, if he was such a 'friend', and especially so if he was an Attorney (a fact I didn't know myself) he should have done something to prevent her enslavement. I mean, it's not as if her father doesn't have the money to pay the right people to get her off. I wondered who this Anthony Scott person was too.

Belinda's statement got put aside while I read through Tracey's statement. For all intents and purposes, it was exactly the same as Belinda's, except for a different 'boyfriend'. It too had been notarized by Nelson.

Third in the pile of papers was Bec's statement, and again, Nelson. Something felt decidedly not right here. What was Nelson doing condemning these girls into slavery?

I looked across the desk at a large plastic ring-binder, inside which were plastic pocket sheets containing the DVD evidence that was required. I carefully slipped the disk labeled "Rogers, Belinda" from its plastic pocket and took it across to the DVD machine Mr. West had pointed out to me.

Once it and the wall-mounted Plasma television screen powered up, I dropped the DVD into the player and stepped back from the wall. There was no start menu and after the disk whirred to life, crisp, sharp digital images of Belinda and a tall, thin, curly-haired guy wearing the staff shirt of Eastlake Country Club and nothing else appeared. I couldn't see the guy's face as the camera view came from directly above and he had his head down. Belinda was flat on her back on what looked like the sales counter in the club's Golf Pro Shop and she was completely naked. She had her arms down by her side and gripped each side of the counter top with her hands while the guy had hold of her ankles and had her legs held high and spread as he fucked her vigorously with his significantly sized cock.

I stared at the scene for a long moment, mesmerized by the way her C-cup breasts bounced and jiggled with each hard thrust of the cock in her pussy. There was sound with the picture, but all I could hear was her soft, anguished moans and the obscene, wet noises of his cock plunging in and out of her. It was difficult to tell whether or not she was enjoying what was happening, because she had her eyes closed the entire time and her head lolled from side to side. But occasionally I'd detect a brief grimace or a squint in her close eyes that suggested she hadn't consented fully at all. There was certainly no sign of any affection between either of them. The vignette ended after ten or so minutes just as quickly as it had begun.

The second scene on the disk started automatically. It was in a bedroom and Belinda was again seen on her back. This time, the curly-haired guy had her pinned beneath him and his ass bucked high in the air as he fucked her, It continued a few minutes in that position before he wrestled one of her legs out from under him and scissored it up high on her body. He crawled up onto his knees without withdrawing his cock; holding her straightened leg pinned to the bed between his thighs while his cock rammed into her pussy at a downward, sideways angle.

Unlike the first short movie in which it was difficult to tell whether or not Belinda was a willing participant, she looked a lot more like she was struggling to get out from under the guy in this one. She appeared to be trying to grab hold of the bedding to pull herself free, and she squirmed and struggled, although she didn't look like she was making any kind of vocal protests. It ended before any real determination could be made.

The scene for the third and final piece of 'evidence' made my heart skip a beat. Belinda's eyes were covered with a black scarf blindfold and she was sitting on the curly-haired guy's lap. She had her legs widely spread; her feet barely on the floor and with her back to him. The camera view from directly in front of her clearly showed her pussy rising and falling on the guy's large, hard cock. His hands were wrapped around her and were groping her breasts but I couldn't see hers; they were behind her back. But the thing that disturbed me the most, aside from the familiarity of the scene that I remembered so vividly from the night of my arrest, was the carpet on the floor underneath the chair.

It was the rich, deep red plush bearing the Country Club's patterned insignia and there appeared to be chairs either side of Belinda. It was impossible to tell how many other people were watching, but there was at least one because this time, instead of any hidden cameras, the unsteady movements of the one used for this movie made it apparent there was a cameraman filming. Belinda rode the guy's cock for a few minutes, vigorously bouncing on it until finally, she was pushed from his lap.

The camera didn't quite catch any image of the guy's face, but it did close in on Belinda. Her mouth was gawping open like a goldfish as she blindly tried to find the cock she'd been sitting on after she dropped to her knees between the guy's spread feet. Her head bobbed furiously for about thirty seconds and then suddenly stopped. The camera caught the sound of her cough a bit. When her head was finally pulled away from the spent cock, her face was turned to the camera to reveal cum leaking everywhere out of the corners of her mouth. I recognized the look instantly; that certain look of deep shame and humiliation that had become so familiar to me since my arrest.

Unlike the previous two movies, this one didn't end abruptly but instead slowly faded to black. As it faded, I could make out the silhouetted shadows of a number of people moving into the camera shot and it looked like Belinda was being bend over on her knees so she was face down and with her ass in the air. I rewound the last few frames a couple of times and I couldn't say for sure what happened next, but I intuitively felt she was being readied to be fucked by somebody else.