The Paralegals

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"See, on this side is the lock," I opened the door, "On this side is the hole. It's there in case you lock yourself out of an interior room. All you have to do is stick something rigid in there and push until you hear a click." I demonstrated by pressing the button on the doorknob locking the door. Then I shoved the pen filler in the hole on the other side until I heard a clicking sound. Immediately the button popped out indicating that the door was unlocked. "See?"

Astonished, Marty exclaimed, "Well I'll be damned! I never knew that."

Anticipating what his next question would be. I explained…

"My little brother locked himself in his bedroom when I was babysitting him once. I had to call the fire department to get him out. A fireman showed me. So are you convinced yet?"

Either Marty didn't understand the question of he was playing dumb because he asked, "Convinced of what?"

"That it is possible for a woman can overpower a man!" I replied triumphantly.

As Marty struggled with his bonds, he asked, "Couldn't you have made your point some other way?"

"You're the one who said prove it to you, remember? And no, I couldn't. Anyway, you still haven't answered my question."

Marty said nothing. Instead, he began struggling with his bonds trying to free himself. But I had done a really good job of tying him up. Amused, I stood there and watched him. After about half a minute or so, he appeared to gave up.

"Finished yet?"

Frustrated he said to me, "Alright, you've made your point. It is possible for a woman to overpower a man. You can untie me now.

But that still doesn't prove that Lilly had the knowledge or skills to do the same thing to Vince. Does it? While you're untying me, you can tell me where did you learned to tie these damn knots anyway?"

"Don't go anywhere." I said, then laughed and headed out the door.

As I left the room, he called to me, "Hey, wait a minute; aren't you going to untie me."

"Not just yet. I'm not through with my demonstration."

The sound of the bed shaking half way down the hall told me he was trying to get loose again. He stopped long enough to yell to me, "At least tell me where you are going?"

"Don't worry; I'll be back in a minute and answer all your questions!" I said reassuringly. The bed began squeaking again telling me he was trying again to get loose. "You might not want to struggle against those ropes too much. Those are slipknots. The more you pull on them, the tighter they become!"

I went to the bedroom, picked up, and emptied my suitcase on the bed. Then I took the suitcase into the living room and filled it with items I knew I'd need in order to continued the demonstration.

The spring in my step indicated that I was really was enjoying what I was doing.

When I reentered the room carrying my suitcase, Marty ceased his attempts to free himself and said, "What do you have there?"

I didn't respond but rather sat it down on the bed and opened the suitcase.

"The list, remember? And I've got a few pieces of evidence." I removed the list of his objections I had made from the suitcase and held it up for him to see.

He didn't say anything.

"Let me start from the beginning," I said and began showing Marty some of the certificates I'd discovered in the living room, "After you went to sleep, I went over the file again and then watched both videos a few more times. Well, just like before, I didn't find anything useful. But then I got tired and decided to take a break. So I put on a pot of coffee; and, while I was waiting for the pot to finish, I decided to look at that shrine to outdoor life they call a living room.

That's when I figured out who the great outdoors-man in the family really is.

I'll bet when you walked in the door and saw all that junk on the walls you thought the same thing I did and that Vince, being the man, was the great white hunter. Am I right?"

He nodded.

"That's what I thought too. Well, brace yourself. We were both wrong. Vince isn't the one who loves the outdoors; Lilly is. Vince is just what he looks like, a city boy."

His jaw dropped open. One by one, I began showing him the certificates I'd placed in my suitcase.

"It gets better. Not only is she an expert fisherman, hunter, marksman and mountaineer, but she's also been a scoutmaster for the last twenty years. That means that is she skilled enough with knots to be qualified to teach them. Ergo, even if she's not an expert, which the evidence indicates she is, Lilly most definitely has the skills and experience needed to tie somebody up quickly."

Finished showing them to him, I placed the certificates carefully back in my suitcase. Next, I retrieved three books I removed from the bookshelf in the living room and held them up for him to see.

"Now to answer you second question as to where I learned to tie those knots holding you. They came out of these books." I waved them back and forth dramatically. "They were on the bookshelf in the living room." One was a book entitled 'Outdoor Survival'; the second was the 'The Scoutmaster's Handbook', and the last was a book dedicated entirely to the use of ropes and knots entitled 'Knots and Ropes and Their Uses'. "And in case you're wondering who they belong to, their Lilly's. I know that because her name is stamped in the flyleaf of every one of them."

"There are plenty of knots in these books that could have used. Once I found one that would do what I needed, it took me less than fifteen minutes to figure out how to tie it. I used the shoe laces from my running shoes for that. The next thing I had to do was determine exactly where to place the ropes and how to secure them. That's when I decided to make a late night trip to Wal-mart to buy some rope and a few other things. We'll expense that later. Anyway, after I got back from Wal-mart, I used the bed in my room to figure that out exactly where to tie the ropes. Since both beds are similar, it only took thirty minutes more of practice for me to feel confident enough to give it out on you." I paused, and then said boastfully, "By the way, tying you up was a lot easier than I expected it would be."

Marty just stared at me in disbelief.

"Need more convincing?" I asked.

He didn't answer.

"I take it that is a yes then?" Again there was no answer. So, I looked at the list, then put the books back into my suitcase and began taking out items and laying them on the bed.

Curiously, Marty asked, "What are you going to do with those?"

He was referring to the two home video cameras I had just placed on the bed next to him. I had picked them up also during my late night shopping spree at Wal-mart.

"You said the camera doesn't lie. Maybe it doesn't; but I can prove that sometimes it doesn't tell the whole truth. Want to find out if I'm right?"

If he had said no, I would have stopped there. Since I was having fun, I was thrilled when he replied, "You've got yourself a captive audience. Proceed."

I laughed.

I laid my notepad and pen over on the dresser; and, then I closed my suitcase and placed it out of sight in the hall.

Returning to the bedroom, I picked up the cameras and checked the batteries in each to make sure they were fully charged.

Next, I turned the LCD viewfinders on each camera around so that images being recorded could be seen from the front of the camera. Then, I made my best guess as to where Lilly had placed her cameras and put mine in the same positions on the dresser and television.

I was luckily to find that the store still had in stock not only a video output cable for one the camera I put in the closet but also an extension cable. I used the cables to connect the camera's outputs to the plasma television. Then I switched on the television and selected the input for the camera under the television.

It took a few adjustments but I finally got the field of view of each camera looking almost exactly the same as they were in Lilly's videos. That accomplished, I carefully turned both camera's viewfinders around so they were facing the bed.

Meanwhile, Marty, who seemed intrigued by my activity, waited quietly. I guess he wanted to see what I was going to do next.

As I headed towards my notepad, he broke his silence, "Now what?"

"Now we go down the list." I replied.

"You said, 'I didn't see anybody holding Vince down. His hands didn't look tied to me'."

"Let's see if you're right." I said as I approached the head of the bed.

Once there, I reached behind him with my left hand and pulled the pillow from behind his head.

"It would be easier for both of us if you raised your head. Vince might not have been given that choice; or, they could have just pulled him up by his hair. How do you want to do this, the easy way or the hard way?"

Deciding to take the easy way, Marty raised his head. When he did, I gently placed the pillow under his head and then stepped back so he could see the camera on the dresser. He looked at it and then at the television.

"Do you see any ropes?" I asked.

Stubbornly, her replied, "No, but that still doesn't prove anything. They couldn't be seen if they weren't there either."

"But I've made my point. While the camera might not lie, it also doesn't necessarily tell the truth either. Does it?"

Begrudgingly, he conceded the point and I moved on.

"Now what was it you said next?" I looked at the notepad again. "Oh yes, here it is…

'How, then, do you explain the erection Vince had?' and I then said, 'Have you ever heard of messaging the prostate?' Look over at the dresser. I'll bet I can find something over there that could get a rise out of you!" Then to prove my point, I walked over to it and picked up the biggest vibrator I could find. It was at least eighteen inches long and two and a half inches wide. "Do you feel adventurous enough to find out?"

Marty tensed up suddenly. "You wouldn't dare!"

"No, I wouldn't." I confessed, "And seriously I doubt they did either." I confessed, and then put the oversized phallic back on the dresser.

"But, no pun intended, that brings to the next item on the list."

"When I suggested that one of them gave him something you said, 'I didn't see him swallow anything.'" I reached into my pocket and produced small plastic bottle half full of red syrupy liquid.

"Do you know what this is?" I held it up him to see it.

He examined it, laughed and then said mockingly, "Spanish Fly! You're joking; right? That stuff doesn't work."

"One thing I can tell you is that somebody living in this house thinks that it does. I found this bottle in the kitchen cabinet. There were eight others just like it there. They were on the same shelf with the coffee, tea, and soda. Unless I miss my guess, somebody's been mixing it with the soda to hide the taste."

As I saw the pillow move, indicating to me that Marty was trying his ropes again; he said to me, "What makes you say that?"

"This particular brand of Spanish Fly just happens to come in three flavors: cola, cherry and, my personal favorite, strawberry. Want to take a guess what flavors of soda were in the cabinet next to it?"

Marty looked up as if in thought, then answered, "They wouldn't they be cola, cherry and strawberry by any chance would they?"

"Good answer!" I said excitedly.

Being argumentative again, Marty insisted, "That still doesn't prove anything. Maybe they just bought it and haven't had a chance to use it yet?"

"Nope, somebody's used it. Or, do you have a better explanation as to why this bottle was a quarter empty when I found it?"

Avoiding my question, Marty said, "Alright, I'll concede that point. But let's assume for a moment that you are right. If Gloria gave it to him, how did she do it without the camera seeing? For that matter, you also haven't proved to me that it works."

"I'm not sure it does. But, but there is a way we can find out. You can try some while I show you how she got him to drink it?" Of course, he could always say no! But something told me Marty wouldn't.

Looking skeptical, he replied, "Go ahead. But don't be surprised when it doesn't have any effect on me."

The instructions were printed in tiny find print on the bottle and it only took me a second or so to read them. I unscrewed the cap on the bottle and then said…

"You sure you want to do this? I don't know what this stuff could do to you!"

Marty grinned and challenged me, "If it were dangerous, it wouldn't be on the market. Besides, my guess is nothing at all. Just in case though, promise me you won't start laughing if it does."

"I think I can handle it."

He laughed, "Very funny!"

"Okay, here we go!" I told him and then began lifting the bottle to my mouth.

Seeing what I was doing, Marty cried out, "Hey, I thought I was supposed to drink that. What gives?"

I paused.

"Just watch and learn!"

Then, I poured a quarter of the small bottle's content into my mouth. I hadn't intended to drink any myself; but, most of it went straight down my throat. It was bitter. Since there was still some left in my mouth, I bent down over Marty in the same manner that Gloria had over Vince in the video. Then, I placed my hands on each side of his face. Using my thumbs, I gently pressed on his nostrils until he was forced to open his mouth for air. When he did, I placed my mouth firmly upon his and opened my lips. The remaining liquid in my mouth went straight into his. I released my thumbs and instinctively, Marty swallowed as and took in several deep breaths through his nostrils.

When our mouths parted, there were a few drops running from the right side of Marty's mouth. He must have felt them because he said to me, "Better not leave any on my lips; it'll show up on camera."

There was a sly grin on his face.

"You're right. I hadn't thought about that."

I was about to reach up and wipe them off when he added, "I didn't see her do that in the video."

"Then how did she…" I started to say but the answer came to be before I finished. Meanwhile, I thought to myself, 'Oh, so you want to play. Is that it Marty? Okay, I'll play with you!'

"I'll bet this is what she did." I said and began using my tongue to lick the liquid from his lips.

Yummy!

Needless to say, it was definitely a turn on. I was about to stop, when out of nowhere, a wave of what I can only describe as burning desire swept over me. In less than two seconds I went from Luke warm to burning hot. My head was spinning; and, to top it off, I had suddenly developed an itch between my legs that was demanded to be scratched.

The first thing that I thought was, 'Wow! Is it hot in here or is it me?' because it seemed to be getting very hot in the room.

The second thing was, 'Where did that itching come from?'

Yes, I knew where it was. But didn't know at the time what had started it.

I was so surprised that I stopped immediately and to regain my composure so I could get back to my demonstration. I might have been successful had Marty not said as soon as I broke contact, "Sure you got it all? You wouldn't want to leave any behind for the camera."

'Like that, did you?' I asked mentally.

"Maybe I better try again?" I said and then kissed him squarely on the mouth.

'I know what you're doing Marty!' I thought to myself as we kissed. 'But do you know what a can of worms you are opening up by doing it?'

Yes, I knew what he was doing. Of that you can be sure. The big question is did I know what I was doing? The answer is yes. I did. I had some self-control left; though not much. I could have stopped. I didn't want to. But I could have and almost did. Although for the life of me, I don't know why.

But when his lips parted and our tongues began to intertwine as we kissed passionately, the thought fled from me and I became even more aroused. And, as my arousal increased, so did the itching between my legs.

My heart, which had been racing wildly, slowed a bit as I broke the kiss. When it did, again reality crept its ugly head back in. I took a few deep breaths and instantly, my head started to clear long enough for me to hear Marty's voice saying, "Like I said, what are you going to do if the stuff doesn't work?"

Desperately I tried to concentrate. 'Think damn it! What were you going to do next? Oh yes, the list! Go down the list!'

And then an argument broke out in my head between what I can best describe as 'Horny Me' and 'Professional Me'.

'Fuck the list! I want to fuck Marty!' Horny Me said.

Then Professional Me said, 'You're not supposed to be fucking Marty dumb-ass. You're supposed to going down the list!'

'Hey, maybe we can do both?' Horny Me suggested.

But then Professional Me took charge and ordered, 'Stop acting like a cougar. You know you can't do both! Show a little self-control and just go down the damn list like you're supposed to!'

'But I don't want to! Aren't you even tempted just a little?' Horny Me said defiantly.

Finally, Professional Me ended the argument when she said, 'Of course I am. But I know how to control myself. Now stop arguing with me and do as you're told!'

And so, for the time being, it looked as if Professional Me had won.

"Before I answer that, I have a few questions for you. Tell me, do you still think that having a desirable naked female rubbing on your pelvis wouldn't arouse you?"

And somewhere in my brain I heard the words, 'Say yes. Marty, say yes!' It was Horny Me talking.

Marty grinned, "Never happen!"

'That's the same thing! Isn't it?' Horny Me asked to which Professional Me replied, 'Yes! Now shut up I'm trying to think!'

"And do you still contend that the only way a man will get aroused is if he wants a woman?" I asked.

He smiled and said, "That's right!"

Without saying a word, I peeled off my sports bar and stood there nude from the waist up. As I did, thought to myself, "Tell me Marty, do you think I'm desirable?" I baited him.

After which Professional Me demanded, 'Hey, what are you doing?'

'Just trying to find out how much; that's all.' said Horny Me slyly.

Marty stared in disbelief and Professional Me said to Horny Me, 'You shouldn't have done that. Look at him. What are you going to do if he doesn't like what he sees?'

'There's only one way to find out.' Horny Me informed.

Confused, Professional Me asked, 'How's that?'

'We'll just have to show him the whole package.' Answered Horny Me.

And then, before Profession Me could protest, I took off my boy-shorts and I stood there now totally naked before him. There had been nothing underneath them.

Indignantly, Professional Me chastised, 'Now you've done it! Look at him! He thinks were so ugly that he's gone speechless!'

'Bet you're wrong!' insisted Horny Me.

To which Professional Me retorted, 'Bet I'm right!'

'All right, let's ask him.' They said together

"Well, tell me Marty, do you think I'm desirable?"

Finding his voice, he replied, "Yes. Very desirable."

Professional Me said doubtingly, 'Maybe he's just saying that because he doesn't want to hurt our feelings?'

"How do I know you're not just flattering me?" I asked.

Nervously, he replied, "Trust me, you are."

Professional Me wasn't satisfied.

"I don't believe you. What proof do you have?" I said teasingly.

Embarrassed, he answered, "You know I can't prove that!"

'But I can. All I have to do is pull the sheet off of him so we can both see.' Suggested Horny Me. But Professional Me was frightened, 'Wait! Don't do that! I don't want to know.'

'Trust me. I know what I'm doing.' Horny Me responded.

"I don't believe you. Maybe I better see for myself?" And then, before he could say anything, in one motion I pulled the sheet off him exposing his now semi-rigid member.

'Do you believe me now? I told you he likes us!' Asked Horny Me.

Unconvinced, Professional Me said, 'That doesn't prove anything. He's not even completely hard.' Even so, she couldn't take her eyes off the thing.