Judge Not, Lest Thee Be Judged...

The telltale echo of high heels on marble rang through the otherwise quiet halls of The Davidson Municipal Courthouse, calling the attention of the venerable old building's occupants, especially its men, to a particularly welcome sight. Atop a pair of 4.5" black leather Prada heels, her athletic legs covered from the knee up by a severe black pencil skirt, slit modestly up the back to permit her determined strides and hugging her perfectly shaped ass like a glove, strode the Honorable Mrs. Danielle Parnell.

A wide leather belt wrapped around her toned midsection held fast the bottom of a very tightly fitted, three-quarter sleeve, white-cotton, oxford blouse that itself was covered by a very stylish black half-vest that closed just above the belt's large leather buckle. With its top two buttons undone, and framed by the stylish vest, Mrs. Parnell's crisp shirt highlighted the fabulous swell of her ample 34C breasts. Across the front of her supple neck rested a double strand of white pearls. With her luxurious brown hair up in a tight bun, her perfect nose supporting a pair of black-rimmed cat-eyed glasses that exquisitely framed her emerald eyes and her luscious lips sporting an intense but professional high-red gloss, the 43 year old mother of three looked poised to mete out the day's justice.

For two days each month the powerful Washington, D.C. lawyer, and managing partner of the international law firm SmythKnight, sat as a judge on the local criminal court of the Parnell family's home town of Davidson, Maryland. Being a very affluent, bucolic suburb of the nation's capital, the town was by no means a hotbed of crime which was one of the reasons that its criminal bench was constituted mainly by Washington and Baltimore lawyers who volunteered a day or two each month to hear a litany of petty crimes and misdemeanors.

Although she generally enjoyed the change of pace that serving as a local jurist presented -- particularly insofar as it permitted her to give back to the local community in a productive, professional and appropriate manner -- as Danielle strutted authoritatively towards her chambers this morning, the preening alpha female was particularly looking forward to the day ahead.

Having reviewed day's docket the evening before, Mrs. Parnell noticed that the first case she'd be hearing related to two teenagers caught attempting to abscond with public property. While that fact in-and-of-itself was neither here nor there, that the high school senior transgressors in question were Miranda Ross and Amanda Silver, brought a broad smile to Danielle's beautiful face. The two eighteen year old stunners, co-captains of Davidson High's award winning cheerleading squad and all-around "popular girls," had made life for young Will Parnell, Danielle's 13 year old son and a freshman at Davidson High, a bit of a tough go. In reality, the girls paid Will no more or less attention than they did any awkward, bookish freshman but, like an elephant, Mrs. Danielle Parnell was not one to forget her offspring's hurt feelings. In her mind and despite Miranda's and Amanda's "crime" being the failed abduction of a rival public high school's mascot -- Billy Goat -- today a mother would exact her son's revenge on the comely co-conspirators -- and Mrs. Parnell could barely wait.

What made the day even better was that Miranda Ross' father -- the strapping Adam Hess -- was scheduled to be the bailiff in Judge Parnell's courtroom. Although Danielle thought no man worthy of even looking in her direction, save grudgingly for her own husband, even she could not deny the attraction of the six-foot-four Hess who, inexplicably in her estimation, had been landed as a husband by Miranda's mother Rebecca Ross.

On more than one occasion Mrs. Parnell had spied Officer Hess ogling her longingly in the court room and, while such adulation was neither unfamiliar to nor unwanted by the imperious diva, she would love nothing more than to take the oafish Adonis to task for it today while at the same time delivering a stinging verdict on his teenage tease of a daughter. That the unworthy Mrs. Ross, an affable, buxom, blonde teacher who was likely also to be in attendance, would be humiliated by the castigation of her husband and daughter would make Danielle's day complete.

In addition to the prospect of mortifying the Hess/Ross clan, Mrs. Parnell saw today's hearing as a chance to publicly denigrate the parenting skills of Amanda Silver's mother Nicole, herself a Washington, D.C. lawyer who would be representing her daughter and the Ross girl at the hearing. Danielle loved the idea of putting the admittedly attractive, fit, red-headed Mrs. Silver -- who dared to see herself as Danielle's professional equal -- in her place. That she could do it essentially by shaming her look-alike, entitled hussy of a daughter made the impending revenge for Will's perceived mistreatment that much sweeter.

With a noticeable spring in her step, and an enhanced sway in her spectacular hips, Mrs. Parnell drank in the stares of the men sizing up her fashionable yet professional appearance as she progressed down the courthouse's spacious central corridor while all but mocking the other women who, to no surprise of Danielle's, seemed to disappear in men's eyes when she was present. As she purposefully marched toward the mahogany door of her chambers, the fetching jurist was confronted by the sight of Mrs. Ross and Mrs. Silver who were clearly waiting nervously for her arrival. Let the games begin, Mrs. Parnell smiled to herself, confident that the mothers of the "accused" were there to curry favor with her based on their all being neighbors.

"Good morning ladies," offered the self-important Danielle with her best false smile, "to what do I owe the honor of your presence here today?"

As the two women uncomfortably exchanged glances, alternatively looking at one another and their own feet, Rebecca Ross sheepishly began, "you may not realize it Danielle . . ."

"Your Honor," interrupted the self-satisfied Mrs. Parnell, "what you mean to say Rebecca is 'you may not realize it Your Honor' . . . but please, go on."

"Um, you may not realize it Your Honor," continued the penitent Mrs. Ross hesitantly, " . . . well, because it's just so hard to believe . . . but my daughter Miranda and Nicole's oldest Amanda are scheduled to come before you today, and . . . well . . ."

"I'm actually quite aware of that fact, Rebecca," intoned Danielle, "and I'm hoping that your raising it here with me isn't an inappropriate, and frankly improper, attempt by you to influence my decision based on the fact that we're neighbors." Staring disdainfully at Nicole Silver the arrogant Mrs. Parnell continued "and you Mrs. Silver -- as an officer of the court -- should know better! I don't know what they taught you at whatever law school you attended -- why don't we simply say 'not-Harvard' -- but ex parte communications with the court are not permitted."

"Frankly ladies, you should both be ashamed of yourselves," glowered the dominating judge, "I know I'm ashamed of you."

"But . . .," began Mrs. Silver, "this was just a harmless prank. They're otherwise very good girls and the repercussions here could be very damaging to them . . . please understand."

"But nothing, Nicole," reprimanded the legal diva, "justice is blind!" As Danielle thought to herself, "not unlike Rebecca's husband," she continued aloud, "and your daughters will be accorded the same treatment before the law -- before me -- as anyone else having committed a similar offense -- my hands are tied. Good day ladies."

And with that, smiling devilishly to herself in satisfaction and sneering at her neighbors in contempt, the imperious Judge Parnell disappeared behind the heavy wooden door that opened into her chambers.

"Can you believe that woman," seethed Rebecca, "she's more concerned with lording her "high station" over us than with dispensing any sort of justice. It's not bad enough that she alternatively teases and chastens my husband at every turn, now she has poor Miranda over a barrel."

Laughing nervously while fearing for her own daughter's fate, Nicole Silver mused, "I'd like to put that little-show off over a barrel." Mocking Danielle's words to her, Nicole quipped to Mrs. Ross, "'my hands are tied' . . . they most certainly would be you little tramp."

With nothing but bravado and bluster between them, the two crestfallen moms headed into the court room to witness what they were sure would be their daughters' undoing. Unbeknownst to them, it was someone else who, soon enough, would come undone.

In the meantime, Judge Parnell, over the moon with her dominance of the hapless Rebecca and Nicole, reached across the opulent desk that sat resolutely within her wood-paneled office to retrieve the file for the Billy Goat incident. Unfortunately for the almost giddy dispenser of justice, she failed to notice the Starbuck's Venti cappuccino poised precariously on the lip of the large leather blotter protecting the patina of her desk and, pulling the file toward her, managed to spill the nearly full coffee squarely onto her chest and lap. Mercifully, her time spent with her quaking neighbors had permitted the Italian libation to cool thereby sparing Mrs. Parnell a scalding. That said, each of her crisp white shirt, form fitting black skirt and exquisite cotton vest was both soaked and stained. Given that fact, there was no way she could stay in these clothes for the day which created quite a dilemma for the manipulative narcissist.

On the one hand, the good judge Parnell could inform the handsome, if in her estimation oafish, Officer Hess that she would need to continue this morning's cases to a later date thereby allowing her to go home, change and return in time to oversee the afternoon's docket. Of course, that route would cause the hearing of Miranda Ross and Amanda Silver to be pushed off to a later date and likely come before another judge. On the other hand, Mrs. Parnell mused, she could slip out of her wet clothes, don only her black judge's robe over her exquisitely naughty lingerie, sit in judgment of her son's tormentors and then, with no one the wiser and still wearing her robe, head home to change at lunch time. Because the robe came down to mid-calf and had a high white collar sewn into its otherwise crew neck, only Danielle would know that the black garment's thin but opaque fabric was all that separated the likes of the dreamy Adam Hess from seeing her most intimate underthings. As she lustily thought of her own image, the idea continued to gain appeal in her mind.

After all, that morning, like every other, the self-obsessed beauty had carefully selected a particularly sexy ensemble to wear beneath her power suit. Knowing she would be sitting in judgment of the two tarts that had "pantsed" her young son Will in Davidson High's crowded cafeteria - completely humiliating him -- had prompted the protective uber mom to embrace the dominatrix inside her.

"No one embarrasses a Parnell like that and gets away with it," she thought vengefully.

Once she finished her morning shower the domineering judge -- with a cheeky grin on her face -- had grabbed the tiniest of black lace thongs from her extensive collection of panties. The sheer triangle of silk fabric that covered its front, which in turn permitted a very careful observer to spy the perfectly manicured landing strip above the preening beauty's sex, was on this particular micro-garment embossed with a small rhinestone skull-and-crossbones.

"Seeing this would certainly make Roger jolly," she had privately joked to herself.

The thong's matching black lace push-up bra was fastened right below the swell of the sexy mother's ample breasts by a rhinestone skull clip that matched the smiling skeleton down below. Mrs. Parnell had completed her look by slowly rolling onto each of her incredibly toned legs a solid black, grey-lace-welt-topped thigh-high stocking and then stepping into her towering Prada heels. Before slipping into her now coffee-stained clothes she had smiled at her sexy reflection, and with her hands on her nearly bare hips cooed to herself, " you really are guilty aren't you beautiful."

Three quick raps on the door separating her chambers from the court room snapped the self-absorbed judge from her erotic reverie.

"They're ready for you Your Honor," came the husky voice of Adam Hess through the door.

"Let them wait," Danielle responded sharply, "I need another few moments."

"Of course Your Honor," replied the bailiff, "anything you say."

Having doffed her skirt, blouse, belt and vest, and standing in her office in only her heels, thigh highs, jewelry, glasses and mouth-watering lingerie, the imperious Judge Parnell laughed to herself, "what I say Officer Hess . . . is that you can stare all you want out there but you'll never . . . ever . . . see me looking like this -- you dime-store cop -- what a loser."

After slipping into her black judge's robe, zipping it up the front and fastening the high white collar around her supple neck, Mrs. Danielle Parnell -- Her Honor -- unlocked the mahogany door separating her office from the courtroom and marched forcefully towards the bench.

"All rise," bellowed Officer Adam Hess, having no idea the double meaning his command would soon take on.

As she ascended the three wooden steps from the courtroom's floor to the platform behind the grand, turn-of-the century mahogany bench from which she presided, Mrs. Parnell took in the composition of the assembled citizenry gathered to witness the hearing. At the defendant's table, along with their counsel -- Mrs. Nicole Silver herself -- sat the comely Amanda Silver and equally fetching Miranda Ross. No doubt under the false impression when she got dressed that morning that the judge would be older -- and male -- each girl looked the perfect temptress for an aging pervert. Wearing black knee-high, high-heeled suede boots, black tights and a brown tartan plaid skirt that barely covered her pert bottom, the red-headed Amanda had also donned a tight, beige, v-neck cotton sweater that showed to full effect the fantastic rack that her mother's genetics had been kind enough to bestow upon her. Miranda Ross on the other hand was sporting a pair of fire engine red 5" platform pumps along with jeggings so tight they could have been painted on. With her lustrous blonde mane in a braided pony tail hanging over the back of her skin tight, black, turtle neck sweater, it was clear that she too had inherited her own mom's ample bosom.

"Showy little trollops," thought Danielle, "your whorish outfits will brook you no solace with me."

Looking next to the District Attorney's table, Danielle rolled her eyes at the sight of the frumpy Emma Duncan. A part-time local lawyer and practically a full-time den mother, story-time reader, tutor and other pass-times looked down upon by Mrs. Parnell, the kind, intelligent but somewhat disheveled Mrs. Duncan -- whose ill-fitting suit and comfortable shoes contained nary a natural fiber, had suffered more than her share of derision from the bench when Mrs. Parnell was the presiding judge. As Judge Parnell sneered disdainfully at her, Mrs. Duncan braced for further humiliation.

The courtroom was otherwise populated by parents, including Mrs. Ross and Amanda's father Julian, teachers -- including that Hobbit of a woman Rachel Miras and the rotund Davidson Middle School Principal Lori Whiting -- and, sitting together to provide Miranda and Amanda with moral support, the balance of the seniors on the Davidson High School cheerleading squad as well as the school's ruggedly handsome 18 year old quarterback, and Amanda Silver's boyfriend, Dylan Forseth.

"One look at what I've got on under this robe Mr. Forseth and you'd forget these silly cheerleaders ever existed," thought the judge, ever confident in her power over men.

Sitting down to begin the trial, the self-satisfied Mrs. Danielle Parnell paid no heed to the condition of the judge's chair supporting her. As a general matter, she would have Officer Hess bring a private chair from her chambers into the court room and place it on the platform behind the massive bench. Today, however, caught up in the erotic musings of her present fashion choice, she had neglected so to direct the macho bailiff and, as a result, would be sitting in the comfortable but somewhat dilapidated chair of Judge Robert Ericson, an ancient but affable lawyer from Baltimore who, like Danielle, periodically presided over his town's local criminal bench. What neither Judge Parnell nor any one there assembled could yet know is that an exposed tack at the back of that chair, which the crusty Judge Ericson had been meaning to fix for weeks, would soon become a critical player in the day's tale.

Once Officer Adam Hess formally declared court to be in session, the short trial of the young cheerleaders began. District Attorney Duncan put on her case, including CCTV footage of the girls trying to lure Billy Goat into their car and the testimony of two broken up Annapolis High students who swore to the deleterious impact that the near abduction had on the psyche of the small, frightened mammal. After Mrs. Duncan rested her case, and in order to prolong the wait of her son's young manipulators -- Judge Parnell declared a ten minute recess.

To the baritone call of "all rise" trumpeted by Adam Hess, everyone in the courtroom stood as Danielle got up to head back to her chambers. Had she not been so focused on revenge, the lovely lawyer may have noticed a slight pull on the back of her robe. Alas, she did not, and in any event the pull itself was of no moment as Mrs. Parnell descended the stairs, withdrew her key from the robe's side pocket, unlocked the imposing door to her inner sanctum and slid safely inside the confines of her chambers for a brief ten minute break. Making some notes to herself about advocating the hiring of a new D.A., the comely counselor absentmindedly left the door key to her chambers -- which locked when it closed behind her -- on her imposing nineteenth century desk.

With the brief recess over, and beckoned back to work by the voice of Miranda's father, Danielle again climbed the three stairs up to her chair to prepare to hear the girls' side of the story as Nicole Silver, Esquire took to the floor in their defense. Mrs. Silver was a fine a lawyer and, with her own child's future -- well at least her odds of getting into a good college -- at stake, she made a particularly strong, well-articulated and passionate case for why the failed abduction of a goat should be seen for the bungled prank it was rather than as a misdemeanor that in turn could really hurt Miranda and Amanda at what was a critical time in their lives.

In the court of the assembled public's opinion, if not the court of Judge Parnell, when Nicole Y. Silver rested her case it seemed the verdict could only go the way of her clients. Yet, despite the elegant Mrs. Silver's eloquence, notwithstanding the power of her reasoning or the logic of her well-staked out position, her oratory talents would be wasted this day. In fact, Oliver Wendell Holmes himself could not have swayed the judgment that the Honorable Danielle Parnell was about to render.

After Mrs. Silver was seated and looking literally and figuratively down upon the faces sitting before her in the Davidson courthouse, Mrs. Danielle Parnell authoritatively began, "before I render my judgment in this case, there are a number of related matters that I'd like to call to your collective attention as citizens of this community."

Having carefully prepared her remarks, and plotted their timing so as to heighten the humiliation of the defendants and their families, the preening diva continued, "the issues I'm going to discuss trouble me and I think, once I've shared them, will trouble you too. They're matters that if left unaddressed can begin to fray the fabric of communities like Davidson and, ultimately, steal from us the charm of our town."