Persecuting the Prosecutor

I hate going to court. Well, let's put it this way – I hate going to court, but don't mind it as much when it is not me on trial. In this case, I was going to court because my best friend was on trial. He's generally a nice guy, but like me, he likes his women a bit too much. Jack had gotten into a fight with his now ex-girlfriend, Ginger, and then raped her just for good measure. Now he was on trial and it wasn't going well.

The biggest problem, okay besides the overwhelming evidence against him, was the bitch of a prosecutor running the show. She was good, I'll admit that, but she really liked the sound of her own voice and was cocky as hell. This was my fourth and probably final day of attending Jack's trial and I knew I wasn't going to like it anymore that the previous days.

It all started on day one. Katie, the prosecutor entered the court room with her nose in the air. That was the first strike. She then proceeded to give Jack an evil "I am going to take you down" look and even had the audacity to trail that expression over to me, knowing I was Jack's friend and emotional support – strike two. Lastly, she was sexy as hell and knew it, dressing somewhat provocatively, yet giving all men a look of disdain when they looked at her – strike three. The first day of the trial went as I expected, with her over confident, self-assured ramble about Jack's evil ways, he not having any regard for women, just plain a menace to society, blah, blah, blah.

During the lunch break that first day, I watched her strut around the court house building, going to her office, heading outside for some air, walking around like the place was built for her. At one point, I too, was outside getting some air and overheard her talking to some other guy.

"I can kick your ass anytime, anyway shithead," she had told him.

That day she had worn a professional looking pant suit and in the heat of the noontime break had taken her suit jacket off, revealing a short sleeved satin blouse underneath. She had real small breasts, but I liked the shape of her toned thighs as they appeared underneath her pants. She also had a nice shapely ass, but when I looked at her thin arms I chuckled to myself. She appeared to me to be a rather weak woman, at least physically. I wondered then what she would be like if I tried to rape her. The seed of my conquest began just then.

Each of the next two days just worked to piss me off some more. Her self-assured banter droned on and on for some time. Then, when it was time for Jack's defense to do what they do, she managed to place doubt and confusion upon nearly all the points his lawyer tried to make. Again, I will admit that she was very skilled at her job and Jack would get what society dictated for his crime, but damn she enjoyed taking him down way too much.

So, now here we are – the fourth day. I listened to both the defense's and prosecution's closing arguments. Katie was dressed to impress, wearing a grey silk business suit with a blue silk blouse. The skirt hung down to about three inches above her knees. She also wore black pantyhose and high heels. Soon, the matter was turned over to the jury to decide. We were all dismissed for the deliberations, but I figured it wouldn't take long, and thus stayed around the court building. Sitting outside with my friend was not easy. He was also convinced that he would be convicted. Soon, we were discussing Katie.

"I should have raped that bitch instead," he said to me. "It would have been worth it more than doing Ginger."

"Yeah," I said. "I know what you mean. She is a feisty bitch indeed, but you just never know what can happen."

Jack looked over at me with a quizzical gaze. I didn't say anything else to him after that because we were interrupted by the bailiff informing us of the court reconvening. Obviously, the jury had reached its decision, in only 45 minutes, and part of that was time used to elect their foreman. Okay, so here we go. Jack gave me a look of despair as we got up and began to file back into the court building. We all took our seats in the courtroom, Jack of course in his required location next to his defense attorney. I took a seat in my usual spot – in the general seating area directly behind Jack.

After the usual procedure of the jury filing in, and the judge entering with everyone being asked by the bailiff to "all rise," the judge asked the jury foreman if they had reached their decision.

"We have your honor," he said calmly.

The foreman handed the bailiff a piece of paper. The judge opened the paper are read it to himself.

"Proceed," he told the foreman.

"In the charge of 2nd Degree Sexual Assault," he began, reading from a copy of the decision. "We the jury find the defendant guilty as charged. In the charge of 1st Degree Battery, we the jury find the defendant guilty as charged. In the charge of Resisting Arrest, we the jury find the defendant guilty as charged."

The judge cleared his throat.

"Will the defendant please rise."

Jack stood up with wobbly knees and let out a deep breath.

"Jack Samuelson, you have been found guilty of all charges before you. You will now be remanded to the custody of the Sheriff until such time as your final sentencing."

I managed to shake Jack's hand and tell him to have strength before the bailiff cuffed him and led him away. I looked over at Katie. She had the biggest smile on her face, extremely satisfied with her accomplishment. When she noticed me looking at her, she made a sneer and winked at me, then continued to smile. I'm sure that bitch would have danced and clicked her heels together had the judge allowed in in his court.

It was time to make some plans...

-----

Okay, despite others' opinions, I'm no idiot. In many ways this would be my riskiest venture. She was after all a prosecuting attorney – one that took extra pleasure in taking down sex offenders. I wondered if she had been sexually molested previously and that is what drove her to be the "Iron Bitch" she was today. Well, at this point much of that didn't matter – neither did the potential consequences. If I got caught and convicted, then at least I already had a buddy on the "inside" - someone to show me the ropes, and especially the ass fuckers to avoid. I'd rather not dwell on such subjects right now, as I had some plans to make. Still sitting in the same bench I had been in since the trial had ended, I realized I was the only one left in the courtroom. I looked around the room. Of course it was your typical courtroom with many benches rather than chairs. The front of the room was separated by a gate across the center aisle – keeping the official proceedings separated from us commoners. The usual sets of benches were on the right where the jury sits, and of course in the very front were the judge's bench – raised higher than any other seating – and the seat where testimony is given. My eyes scanned the room further, my head and body turning in the bench to take it all in. I hadn't really taken the time to see all of what I was seeing now when the trial was taking place – instead focused on the events taking place and not the place itself. As my eyes reached the back of the courtroom, I paused. There against the back wall of the room were a series of wooden cubicle shelf units mounted at eye level. Thinking back, I do recall seeing several law enforcement officers – LEOs as some call them - placing loose metal items in them. The judge had made a point at the very beginning of the trial that these were to be used for flashlights, handcuffs and other metal items (except firearms) to prevent those items from making noise during the proceedings and to prevent the benches being scratched.

I stood up and walked to the back of the courtroom, glancing in those shelf units. Damn, what luck – a set of handcuffs were still there. Evidently some rookie or forgetful cop was missing theirs. I immediately grabbed them, stuffed them into the waistband of my pants under my untucked shirt, and exited the room. Maybe I didn't need to plan as much as I had thought. My original idea was to wait a few days before making my move, but this opportunity couldn't be ignored. I walked down to the main lobby of the building and looked around. The building had a security check station at the front entrance. Several guards and a metal detector scanner just like the ones you see at airports were manned 24 hours a day. Only LEOs could enter with firearms and other similar large metal items (such as those flashlights and handcuffs I mentioned). But now I had handcuffs and as long as I didn't exit and try to reenter the building, there was no reason to search me. Finally, I located the building directory panel on the wall near the elevators. Scanning the directory, I looked for that Katie bitch's office number – her office was on the 5th floor. I pushed the button for the elevator. Once it arrived and the doors opened, I along with several others got in. I pushed the button for the fifth floor and courteously pushed the buttons for several other floors for the others. The elevator stopped at the second floor – one person got off, while two other entered. One of them was an extremely attractive woman in her mid-twenties. She had one a rather short skirt and blouse with a few of the upper buttons undone – nice cleavage and what must be at least 38 tits. Her legs were bare, but nicely tanned. My guess was she was a secretary or receptionist rather than an attorney, as the skirt was probably a bit too short for court – not to mention the drool inducing cleavage. Wow, she was hot – maybe if my date with Katie didn't work out, I could take this woman in the bathroom or something. The elevator reached the fifth floor and I got out, turned to the right and walked down the wide hallway. When I reached the District Attorney's office I walked slowly past the door, but turned my head to look in. The office was actually two rooms – the first appeared to be for a secretary and a small waiting area, while the second room was the bitch's actual office. Both the inner and outer office doors were open, giving me a chance to see that the secretary was digging into her purse on her desk, and Katie was sitting at her desk reading. I looked at my watch and saw that it was getting late in the afternoon, almost evening. Numerous people were filing out of their offices and heading to the elevators.

It always struck me as interesting to see the mass exodus at the end of the day - seeing the crowds of people filing out of large office buildings, almost desperate to get out of the building first, almost if the building was on fire. It reminded me of the times as a child when I visited my uncle's dairy farm. The cows in the holding pen would gather at the door to the barn at sunrise, just waiting to get into the building to each take their assigned position in the milking stalls. Cattle – yup, that's what most office workers were – just following everyone else, taking their assigned stalls, milked for all they were worth – until they could be released back into the grazing field.

Anyway, enough of this reminiscing shit. I walked to the end of the hallway. By now, nearly the entire floor had already been vacated. I walked back to Katie's office and saw that her secretary was gone, but she was still hard at work in her office. No doubt she was happily preparing to enslave some other guy that fucked some woman without consent – some women can be so touchy. I walked back over to the elevators and looked up at the set of lights indicating what floor they were on. All of the lights indicated that every elevator was on the main floor and not moving. Good, that seemed to tell me that most everyone had already left for the day. I assumed that the security guards didn't patrol the building but were only responsible for maintaining the security station at the entrance.

I walked back to Katie's office and quietly walked in, gently closing the main office door. I then proceeded to step to the door to Katie's office. Out of courtesy, I knocked on the door frame. Katie briefly continued to read the document she held in her hands – as if to say she really was too important to be bothered by others. Finally, she looked up from her reading to see who was bold enough to pester her at this time of the day. Her eyes widened briefly when she saw it was me at her door – then they returned to her usual disinterest towards men.

"What do YOU want?" she asked me sternly.

"I was wondering if I could speak to you about Jack Samuelson's sentencing?" I lied to her.

"I have nothing to discuss with you regarding that matter," she said as she resumed her reading. "Please leave, now."

I took another step into the room.

"Well," I said, slowly closing the door. "I don't really have to discuss it either. However, there is something else I would like to get across to you."

Her eyes immediately looked back up from her reading as she heard the sound of the office door latch. I sneered at her.

"Get the fuck out of here, shit bag," she commanded.

"No way," I told her firmly. "It's instructional time for you and your pretty ass and little tits."

Her eyes got wide again as she immediately caught the drift of what I wanted to do to her.

"Oh, no," she began. "Don't even think about trying anything with me. You had better realize right now who I am, and what I can do to you. Your fucking shit bag of a friend is sitting in jail this very minute because of the brainless thing he did. Don't think for a moment that I can't do the same to you – worse actually. So, asshole, do yourself a favor before I make a phone call and start running, because regardless I am reporting you right now. Besides, I could kick your ass any day."

She reached down and picked up the receiver to her desk phone. I instantly dove directly onto her desk, papers flying, grabbing the phone from her hand.

Okay, so diving onto the desk probably wasn't the smoothest thing I've done, but it was effective. As Katie jumped back and then stood up, I had one brief view of her pantyhose covered thighs just before she did. Nice toned thighs. I slid off the desk and grabbed the entire phone, pulling hard on the cord until it broke away from the wall connection – problem solved.

"You fucking bastard," Katie yelled at me. "You are now going to have to pay restitution, too."

Wow, she was one fucking piece of work. I grabbed her by the hair as she took a good swing at me, striking me in the shoulder. Not a lot of power there. I pulled her hair – and along with it – her head down until her head was laying on her desk, her body bent over. She swung both her arms behind her, attempting to hit me again.

"Get off me," she demanded. "Let me go this instant."

"No fucking way, bitch," I told her. "I am going to give you something to remember for a long time."

"You are in so much fucking trouble," she told me. "You had better just let me go right now, before the list of charges against you gets any longer."

I was getting a little tired of her mouth, but decided to humor her by letting her continue to spout on. Instead, I decided to let my fingers do the walking – up her skirt. I reached under her fancy skirt from behind. She immediately tried to turn her body away. I shifted my hand holding her head down by her hair and grabbed her by the neck, continuing to keep her head pinned to the desk. Next, she tried to kick me with her nice spikey heels but couldn't get a good angle at me as I shifted my body beside her rather than behind her.

My hand and fingers snaked up her skirt. I could feel the smooth, silkiness of her thighs in her pantyhose. I reached her ass and gave it a good squeeze. She let out a frustrated growl.

"Stop this," she demanded. "I will not tolerate this abuse any longer."

"I don't fucking care if you tolerate it or not," I told her. "You don't have any choice in the matter."

"Oh, you fucking shit bag!" she hollered.

God, this woman had a mouth. My years in the Navy didn't pain my ears as much as listening to her fowl mouth. It's just sad to see such an attractive woman and then hear that kind of crap spew from her mouth. She may have been dressed very professionally, almost elegant, but her mouth just ruined the whole innocent, victimized woman scene I had been envisioning.

I began to pull her skirt up to expose her hose covered ass. It is then that I got a very good look at her pantyhose. By the style and quality of the hose, if figured she was wearing a pair of Wolfords – very expensive pantyhose – but rather fitting to be paired with the expensive skirt, jacket and blouse (all silk) that she soon wouldn't be wearing any longer. As I ran my hand roughly over her exposed ass, she exploded in rage. She kicked and swung her arms until she managed to break free of my hand holding her down. She ran for the door, but I caught her immediately. I grabbed her from behind, picked her up by the waist and threw her onto her own desk. She fought me hard, but still weakly as her small size and little muscular strength was no match against me. I grasped her by the wrists and held them over her head against the desk top. Lying down on top of her I kissed her roughly. She twisted her head away and then turned it back toward me to spit on me. I pulled her two wrists together and holding them with one hand, I used my other hand to wipe her spit from my face. I then wiped it off on the front of her jacket.

"Get the fuck off me," she demanded once again.

"You will have to make me," I told her, teasing her. "If fact, I will fucking get off, just as soon as we get all these clothes off and I have my cock rammed up your tight cunt – that's when I will GET OFF."

"Don't you fucking dare fuck me," she said. "I will have you in jail in a New York minute."

"Tick, tick, tick," I teased her more. "I don't see you doing it."

I got back up from the desk, dragging her by her wrists with me. I looked into her brown eyes, hoping to see tears – there weren't any. She was one tough bitch, but I had just gotten started. While she struggled to free her arms from my grip, I pulled my shirt up to grab the set of handcuffs I had procured earlier. She saw them immediately and struggled even harder.

"Oh, don't you dare," she told me. "I am so going to love seeing you rot in prison, you fuck."

"Oh so you don't like my gift?" I asked her. "I got these pretty bracelets just for you."

"Stuff it!" she shouted "Asshole!"

Making quick movements, I spun her around and grabbed her arms, gathering them behind her. Although I really hadn't practiced the maneuver ever, I decided to try to slap the cuffs on her like you see the cops on TV do almost every week. It didn't work out – Katie laughed, knowing what I had attempted to do. I slapped her in the back of the head for good measure. Then, I used both hands to put one side of the cuffs on her left wrist, followed by the right. She fought hard but failed to prevent me from getting them on. Soon, her hands were bound together behind her body.

"Not so funny now, is it?" I taunted her.

"Fuck you," she replied. "You piece of shit."

I spun her back around facing me. She looked at me with her usual contempt, but said nothing further, wondering what I was going to do next.

She looked as if she was ready to spit on me again, so I spun her around once more so she was facing away from me. I leaned my head down just slightly to start messing with her. As she's quite tall for a woman at five feet, ten inches and I'm six feet even, it was much more comfortable with her than many of the shorter women I have "encountered." I gently nuzzled her neck, smelling her great perfume and trying to get a glimpse of her cleavage. Alas, she had none, as her small tits just didn't provide enough "air space" to create cleavage. Well it was time to start rummaging. I reached my hands around her – one hand to hold her waist, while the other to work on revealing her body some. I first unbuttoned her suit jacket, opening it up and pulling it off her shoulders to drop down her arms. The jacket now clustered against her cuffed wrists. At least that way she will be more comfortable having it as a cushion when I really get down to fucking her hard.