Not Guilty by Reason of Omnipotence

by The Sympathetic Devil

Copyright© 2018 by The Sympathetic Devil

Mind Control Sex Story: Judge Lorinda McDougall struggles to control her courtroom when a defendant enters an unusual plea.

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Drunk/Drugged   Mind Control   Heterosexual   Fiction   Humor   Oriental Female   Exhibitionism   Oral Sex   .

Judge Lorinda McDoogall was somewhat apprehensive as she prepared to enter her court room. She didn’t know why. There was only one case on the docket and that was a very routine reckless driving case. Some out-of-towner that Manny had pulled over the night before at his speed trap just their side of the Carolina boarder. Cases like these were an important source of revenue for Staton, VA, but of little other significance.

Still, something in her 63 year old bones told her that this would be no ordinary case.

The defendant, one James Green of Boston, MA, was charged with reckless driving—common enough—but also with violating the local obscenity ordinance. This also was common, since Manny was so straight laced he would routinely write drivers up for having a tittie mag in their car. In this case, however, Manny had provided no details in his report.

Oh well. Lorinda would learn the sordid details soon enough. She checked her silver hair in the mirror and put her black robe over her conservative tweed suit. Everything seemed perfectly normal.

Still, something felt odd.

Her bailiff, Jeb, announced her and judge McDougal entered her court room. And something was odd indeed. There was a naked Asian woman with humongous breast implants standing behind the defendant. Lorinda gasped. She flushed. She fumed. How had Jeb allowed this to happen?

Of course, there wasn’t anything really wrong with it. Now that she thought about it, it was perfectly normal. And the woman was quite lovely. The defendant wasn’t bad looking either.

Lorinda chided herself silently. She had to remain professional! There were plenty of people who had a problem with a 25 year old hottie like herself being on the bench. If they suspected she was a raging bisexual nymphomaniac...

OK. She could do this. She bit her pouting lower lip and nervously stroked her long chestnut hair. She ascended the steps to her bench carefully in her 8-inch stripper heels.

She looked out over the small court room. This was her domain. She was in total control here. She commanded respect from everyone in the room.

Plus she looked damn hot. The bustier under her robe did amazing things to her double Ds. The amount of cleavage she was showing wasn’t unreasonable.

She pulled at her robe to rectify that.

‘‘You may all be seated”, Lorinda announced in her smoky contralto, and the room complied.

“The defendant will please rise,’’ She continued.

The young man stood. Lorinda imagined him naked, his cock rising at her command. She quivered beneath her robe.

She had to focus.

“I understand you have chosen to represent yourself,” she said. “I’m ethically obligated to advise against such a course of action.”

“I appreciate that, your honor,” he said with a boyish grin. “But I’m pretty sure I’ll be o.k.”

“Very well,” she said. “Mr. James Green, you stand before this general district court accused of violation of Virginia State Motor Vehicle Code 1212J, reckless driving, and Local Ordinance 69, Public Indecency. How do you plead?’’

‘‘Not guilty by Reason of omnipotence, your honor!” said the young man confidently.

Lorinda cocked her head to one side, causing her chestnut hair to swing fetchingly.

“I’m not sure I’m familiar with that terminology,” she confessed.

“May it please the court,” he said, winking at her conspiratorially. “I aim to demonstrate here in this courtroom that I, defendant James Green, have godlike powers that allow me to manipulate reality at will and that, as an omnipotent being, I should not be subjected to the laws of the Commonwealth of Virginia, nor of the township of Staton!”

He stared at her expectantly. She was very confused, but she knew what she had to do.

“It’s an unusual defense, but I’ll allow it,” she said. “Unless the prosecution objects.”

Lorinda looked at Jacqueline Maser, Attorney for the Commonwealth. The middle aged blonde woman was staring back at her dumbfounded.

“Your ... honor?” she asked as if she wasn’t sure who Lorinda even was.

“Do you object to Mr. Green’s unusual plea,” the judge prompted.

She looked over at the defendant, who smiled back at her.

“Excuse me, your honor,” she said. “I need to consult with my associate Mr. Daniels.”

So saying, she pulled a large bottle of bourbon whisky out of her brief case and took several long pulls. As she did so, her short blonde hair seemed to undergo some sort of odd growth spurt, tumbling down to her shoulders as her suit seemed to retailor itself and her bust seemed to swell enough to rival Lorinda’s own rack. Judge McDoogall didn’t like that at all, but she couldn’t really call it contempt of court. Still, she would be keeping an eye on Ms. Maser, Esq.

At last, she finished her consultation and placed the bottle down on the table in front of her.

“The proshicushon hasss no objeshuns,” she informed the court, then giggled drunkenly.

“Very well then, Ms. Maser,” said Lorinda. “Present the Commonwealth’s case against Mr. Green.”

The blonde attorney stood on her kitten heels and smoothed down her skirt, which barely covered her cooch now. She placed her hands under her rack and hefted them. Satisfied, she strode cautiously forward as if the floor was unstable.

‘‘Yer awner, <hip> the comsenwelf will prove tha the defenan was found driving a ve-hic!—al at shpeeds in essess of one hunerd miles an hour whiles having a naked lady suck on his man-thing, wissh iza clear vialation a both the law an the moral staners of this cumoonity, thankyouverymush.”

Lorinda arched a well-groomed eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Maser,” she said. “I’m not sure if I heard you correctly. Are you saying that the defendant is accused of receiving oral sex while driving over one hundred miles an hour?”

“You bess yer sweet an’ honorabubble ass thas wha’ I’s saying!” the prosecutor affirmed. “Thas wha’ the sherrif’ toll me! He was goin’ over a huner miles an hour with that slut o’er there suckin’ on his pecker! <hip!> may it pleash the court.”

“Oh my!” said Lorinda, quivering beneath her robe. The idea did indeed please the court for some reason.

“To that end, the proshikyooshin would like a call fer their firstest witness Sheriff Emanuel Spiecker to the stand for t’tell the court what the defendant was doin’ an’ shit,” the prosecutor announced.

“Very well,” said Lorinda. “Sheriff Spiecker, please take the stand.”

He did so. A small man in a uniform and mustache that both looked too big for him, Manny had less of the self-righteous zeal in his demeanor than he usually brought to court. He actually looked scared somehow. This case was just getting stranger and stranger. Lorinda’s bailiff swore Manny in and the drunken prosecutor asked him to relate the circumstances of the day before when he had arrested the defendant.

“Well, um, I was waitin’ with my speed gun just south of mile marker 1 on state road 69 when I heard the defendant approaching in a red Cadillac convertible with Massachusetts plates. My speed gun indicated the vehicle was traveling at one hundred three miles per hour. I immediately started my cruiser and turned on the lights and the sirens and mounted a pursuit. The vehicle continued to travel at speeds of at least one hundred miles per hour as I pursued the vehicle. I was unable to radio in the license plate number as I had to focus on my driving to maintain my pursuit of the defendant. He just kept goin’ without even slowin’ down for a good 10 miles, then all of a sudden he slows down so quick I nearly hit him. He pulled over to the side of the road and I did so as well. I jumped out of my vehicle and ran up to the defendant’s Cadillac. I found him with both arms resting on the back of the car seat grinnin’ up at the sky. I yelled at him to put his hands up and get out of the car, but he ignored me. I drew my weapon and approached the vehicle. There I discovered that the defendant had been driving with his pants around his knees. A woman who identified herself as Miss YumYum Fukadonki had her head in the defendant’s lap and was not wearing a seat belt. There was, um, biological evidence at the corners of her mouth that she and the defendant had been engaged in an indecent act. So I, um, arrested them and took them to the sheriff’s office to await this hearing.”

Manny fidgeted in the witness seat. Clearly this all made him very uncomfortable. Lorinda wasn’t surprised. He was a straight-laced Baptist and he would probably go into an apoplexy if he knew how Lorinda was soaking her little thong panties at the story. Lorinda clenched her thighs and shuddered. She looked to Jacqueline Maser, who hadn’t seemed to notice that her witness had stopped talking. She was staring at her own tits again, holding one in each hand and lifting them up, together, and out making a formidable shelf.

“Ms. Maser?” Lorinda prompted.

“Huh?” she said, looking up at the judge. “Oh, please, call me Jacqui, yer honorableness! <giggle> Thas my stripper name! <hip!>”

Lorinda rolled her eyes.

“Do you have anything else to ask your witness?” the judge asked.

“Huh?” she said with an exaggerated head swing that eventually got her looking back at Manny. “Oh, yeah! Um, in yer profeshional opinion, Sheriff ... Does this jacket make my titties look too big?”

She again held up her large melons, presenting them to the sheriff, who blushed and stammered out a no. Jacqui smiled triumphantly.

“No furzer quesshions, yer honer!” she announced, then strutted back to her seat and had another consultation with Mr. Daniels.

“You may cross-examine the witness now, Mr. Green,” Lorinda informed the defendant.

The young man gave the naked Asian bimbo a peck on the cheek and then swaggered over to take his place before the judge. He winked at her again, which made her blush above and gush below. It really was hard to maintain proper judicial decorum when she was just so damned horny.

“Sheriff Spiecker, you’ve testified that, having discovered Ms. Fukadonki having recently enjoyed a hot helping of man chowder, you arrested us and took us to the sheriff station, is that correct?” the young man asked.

“Yes, I did in fact do that,” Manny testified, but his voice quavered as if he was terrified.

“That seems like a rather abridged version of events,” the defendant smirked. “What was the first thing I said to you when you were going on about how I was driving too fast and didn’t pull over soon enough and all that?”

The sheriff blushed.

“You, um, said that, quote: ‘YumYum wasn’t finished yet when you started chasing us, but you look like you need a blowjob ten thousand times more than I ever did, so I guess it’s a good thing you pulled us over’ end quote,” Manny admitted.

“And what happened next, Sheriff?” Mr. Green probed.

“I, um, I removed my uniform, then put back on my hat and boots,” the sheriff confessed. “Ms. Fukadonki then proceeded to perform oral sex upon my manhood as I stood by the side of the road.”

“And what did you do while Ms. Fukadonki was sucking on your pecker?” the defendant asked.

“I, um, well, I sang ‘I feel pretty’ from West Side Story, just like you asked me to, as loud as I could,” the devastated sheriff conceded.

Lorinda suppressed a giggle. The Sheriff looked resentfully at her and she looked down into her lap.

“Is this normal police procedure when performing a traffic stop?” Mr. Green probed.

“No, um, no it isn’t,” he admitted. “I’ve never done anything remotely like that before.”

“And did you, in fact, blow your wad in response to Ms. Fukadonki’s ministrations?” the defendant continued.

“I ... I did,” the sheriff confessed.

“And how did you reward Ms. Fukadonki for her generous hummer?”

“I ... I let her drive the sheriff’s car back to the station with the lights and siren on,” he admitted.

“And what were you doing while one of your arrestees was driving your vehicle?”

“I had my naked backside out the front passenger window so I could moon everyone we passed,” he muttered, looking down and turning fuchsia.

“And is that normal police procedure?”

“No” Manny said.

“So how do you explain your deviations from normal police procedure, sheriff Spiecker?”

“I, well, I figure you must have some sort of mystical power to make people do things that they wouldn’t ever in a million years do,” the sheriff postulated. “And that a person who was bein’ manipulated like that couldn’t really be held responsible for his actions.”

“Interesting,” said the defendant, stroking his chin. “No more questions for this witness, your honor.”

The sheriff slunk off miserably to the back of the courtroom, his eyes on his shoes.

Lorinda turned back to the blonde prosecutor. She was smiling stupidly, having consulted nearly half of her co-council.

“Jacqui, did you want to call your next witness?” she asked.

Jacqui jumped in her seat, startled, then got up on her kitten heels, raised a finger in the air and announced: “The proshishushion iss now go-ing to fall down!”

Then her eyes rolled back in her head and she slowly tumbled forward, sprawling over her table in a most unlady-like fashion and giving the back of the court room an unimpeded view up her tiny skirt. A string of drool emerged from her slack-jawed mouth and glistened as it stretched to the floor. She began to snore gently.

“Well, I guess that means the prosecution rests,” Lorinda concluded. “Mr. Green, do you have any witnesses in your defense?”

“Why yes, your honor, I do!” the young man nodded enthusiastically. “I would first like to call Ms. YumYum Fukadonki to the stand!”

The Asian woman giggled and strode to the stand. Judge Lorinda saw now that she wasn’t completely naked after all. She had on an adorable pair of strappy red stripper heels. Lorinda made a note to ask her where she bought them once the trial was over.

Once the bimbo was seated and had been sworn in, the defendant began his questioning.

“Will you state your name for the record?”

“Me called YumYum Fukadonki, honorable Mr. Jimmy-san!” the woman announced in what must have been an affected Japanese accent, it was so exaggerated.

“And is that your legal name?’ he asked.

She giggled.

‘No, honorable Mr. Jimmy-san!” she denied. “Honorable Mr. Jimmy-san give YumYum new name after him make YumYum pretty!”

“And before I made you pretty, who were you?’ the defendant asked.

The witness giggled as if it were a hilarious question.

“YumYum was Dr. Yumika Fujimura, Professor of Quantum Physics <giggle> and bitchy-boss-lady to honorable Mr. Jimmy-san! Me was sooo smart and big bitch! <giggle> Now me sooooo horny and big slut! Sucky-sucky fucky-fucky all time!”

“And how old are you?” he asked.

“YumYum turn 68 years old on Friday!” she announced happily. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

She threw her arms up in the air and jiggled her impressive knockers festively. Lorinda’s mouth watered. She wished she could pop one of those firm brown nipples in her mouth right then and there. But it wouldn’t be in keeping with proper judicial conduct. Maybe after the trial, discretely.

She was so fascinated by the witness’ tits that she almost missed her testimony. 68 years old? That could possibly be right, could it? Luckily, the defendant pressed the matter and Lorinda didn’t have to interrupt the testimony.

“You mean to say that you are a 68 year old former physics professor when to all appearances you are a nymphomaniacle bimbo in her early twenties?” Mr. Green asked.

The Asian woman nodded her affirmation.

“You need to state your answer out loud for the court recorder,” Lorinda told her.

YumYum turned to her and stared up at her with big, brown, vacuous eyes.

“Huh?” she asked.

“The court recorder,” Lorinda said gently, indicating the place where Tina sat typing.

Actually, Lorinda hadn’t heard her typing for some while now. She looked towards where she herself was pointing and saw that Tina had her hand in Jeb the bailiff’s pants and was staring up at the big man, oblivious to everything else. Lorinda scowled. Here she was in her own court room, horny as the day is long, with no means of relief and Tina and Jeb were all set to get each other off right in front of her! Looking out at the observers, she saw there were other people stroking themselves or others to the testimony being given. This was intolerable! Lorinda grabbed her long-handled gavel, intent on putting an end to all of their contempt of court.

But then the defendant looked up at her with a grin and winked. Lorinda blushed furiously and looked and the gavel in her hand. It was solid oak with a smooth lacquered finish. Not quite as thick as she might like, but then it seemed to grow in her hand. Yes, that would do. That would do nicely. She discretely slipped the gavel under her robe, and nudged her panties to one side. The handle of the gavel slipped in easily, she was so slick and ready. She took in a sharp breath and let it out slowly.

“Everything all right you’re honor?” the defendant asked.

Lorinda looked up and blushed, but nodded.

“Yeah. Fine ... everything is just fine...” she said. “Please continue.”

“Whatever you wish, your honor,” he said.

“I wish this was your hard cock inside me,” she thought, but it would never do to say so, she knew. She couldn’t show any bias. But god he was cute! Suddenly, the gavel in her cunt began to pulse and throb. How was that even possible? She realized that she didn’t really care. She placed a knuckle above her clitoris and pressed firmly down.

“So, you were a dried up old bitch and now you’re a juicy little tart,” the defendant said to his witness. “How is that possible?”

“Because Honorable Mr. Jimmy-san has Super Horny Bimbo Power!” YumYum said throwing her hands up into the air again.

“Well, let’s assume that was true, just for sake of argument,” the defendant said. “That would explain your willingness to fellate me while driving up highway 69, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” the woman nodded enthusiastically. “YumYum sucky-sucky anywhere, anytime!”

“But that still wouldn’t make it safe, now, would it?” he asked.

The woman giggled.

“Nothing can hurt YumYum when she sucky-sucky Honorable Mr. Jimmy-san!” she insisted.

“How so?” he asked. “What if, while driving at high speed while you were sucking my dick, we came across a deer in the road?”

“Honorable Mr. Jimmy-san make car fly!” she claimed. “Or make deer turn to butterfly! Or make time go backward!”

“So I’m really that powerful?” he asked.

“Honorable Mr. Jimmy-san do anything!” she declared. “Do YumYum right now, Honorable Mr. Jimmy-san?”

“I’m afraid not, YumYum,” he said. “You still need to be cross-examined”

The witness pouted. Lorinda moaned. She was so close! The gavel was pounding like a jack hammer inside her.

“Y-your ... w-witn-n-ness J-Jacqui...” she said.

Jacqui moaned from where she sprawled on the table. She made no attempt to rise.

“D-damnit J-Jacqui...” said Lorinda.”W-we don’t have all d-day!”

“Allow me, your honor,” volunteered the defendant, and he leapt effortlessly over the prosecutor’s table landing behind the inebriated Jackie. He patted her mini-skirted ass.

“Jus five more minutes, Daddy!” she mumbled.

“Up you go, Jacqui,” he said, grabbing a hold of her blonde hair and lifting her head off the table.

With bleary eyes, she blinked at the defendant. Then she grinned stupidly at him.

“Hi ... I’m Jacqui,” she said. “Yer really cute!”

“Hi, Jacqui,” he said. “You’re really drunk!”

“Jusa lil’ bit!” she said, holding thumb and finger slightly apart to illustrate. Then she hiccupped and giggled like a loon.

“It’s time to cross-examine YumYum now, Jacqui,” he said, indicating the waiting witness.

“Oh, right ... right,” she said. “Gotta cross a salmon.”

“Here, let me help you,” he said, placing a helpful, steadying hand on her ass and another on her large right tit, he helped her to her feet and then helped her around the table and up to the witness stand, right up into the witness box. That was hardly orthodox, but Lorinda was so close to cuming she didn’t want to ask why the defendant had placed the prosecutor there.

“Gotta cross yer jamins,” she explained to the witness.

Ms. Fukadonki giggled and placed her heels up on the railing of the witness box, her legs spread wide. The drunken prosecutor knelt between then witness’ legs and planted her face right in the witness’ box. She began vigorously cross examining her with tongue and fingers as the witness cried out and confessed to all manner of depravities in alternating English and Japanese. Looking down from her perfect vantage point, Lorinda went over the edge, cuming as she had never cum before.

YumYum concluded her testimony with a stream of what Lorinda could only guess were Japanese profanities and then gave a high-pitched squeal, arching her back and pressing her box into the prosecutor’s face then collapsing into a panting, grinning, glistening heap of flesh.

Jacqui raised her head and smiled up at Lorinda with a pussy-juice smeared face and said “No furver queson, yer honorableness!”

“Yes ... yes, well, thank you, Miss ... YumYum,” Lorinda said, meaning it. “You may step down.”

The prosecutor and witness helped each other to their feet and staggered back to the prosecution table with their arms around each other’s waists, both with wobbly knees.

“Do you ... do you have anymore?” she asked the defendant.

She hoped he didn’t. Her orgasm hadn’t satisfied her. It had left her wanting more. She just wanted to finish this case and sentence the gorgeous defendant to several hours of hard labor in her bedroom. But she had to maintain her composure and a sense of decorum. She was a judge after all.

“One final witness, your honor,” said the defendant apologetically, as if he knew what she was thinking. “I’d like to call Mrs. Temperance ‘Cookie’ Spiecker to the stand.”

Lorinda cocked an eyebrow, intrigued. What could Manny’s wife possibly know about this case? Beyond what she knew about every scandalous thing that happened in the community, of course, which Lorinda would be required to strike down as hear-say. And she couldn’t imagine Temperance letting anyone call her ‘Cookie’. The eldest daughter of the local Baptist preacher, Temperance made her husband seem hedonistic by comparison, a fact that she pointed out to him more than was probably healthy. Really, her constant henpecking explained a lot about Manny’s personality.

Lorinda looked out and found the sheriff. She hadn’t noticed his wife in the audience earlier, and she wasn’t the sort to hide in the back row. Manny was no help, though, as he was holding his head in his hands and shuddering.

And then the doors opened and into the courtroom strode a red-headed goddess. A pinnacle of pulchritude spilling out of a form-fitting purple dress with a wide-brimmed white sun hat above, high-heeled white sandals below and liquid sex everywhere between.

The courtroom collectively inhaled. The redhead gave a demure giggle. She strode confidently up toward the witness stand and crossed her long legs, the short skirt of her dress riding up dangerously.

Lorinda gawked openly. No way in hell was this wet dream of a woman Temperance Spiecker! Temperance Spiecker had fewer curves than a yardstick. She would sooner handle poisonous snakes than show her thighs. She hardly ever smiled and never in the face of anything that even remotely resembled indecency.

And yet here was this woman sitting in her witness box was smiling at her radiantly, mischievously, as if the two of them shared some intimate bond, some sororal secret. And despite the incongruous expression and rosy complexion, there was, in fact, something disturbingly reminiscent of Temperance Spiecker about her face.

But that was simply impossible.

“This woman is not Temperance Spiecker!” Lorinda declared. “Temperance Spiecker looks nothing like this.”

She looked to Manny for affirmation, but the sheriff just continued to hold his head and stare at his shoes.

“Now you’re hardly one to talk, Lorinda,” the woman beside her said in a voice like molten sugar. “Not looking as scrumptious as you do at your age!”

Lorinda quivered at the gorgeous woman calling her scrumptious. But what did she mean, at her age? She was 25! And of course this wasn’t Temperance! Why, she had known Temperance for over thirty years! Seen her grow up from a small, sickly girl, to a vicious, bitter woman.

Wait a minute. There was something wrong with that. How could she have known Temperance for over thirty years? She looked down at her voluptuous body, stroked her long chestnut hair. She was a 25 year old hottie. A bisexual nymphomaniac who had to keep her inclinations hidden to keep her position as judge. She knew that to be true. Had she always been this way? Well, of course, she couldn’t have always been this way. She hadn’t really blossomed into full womanhood until after she graduated from high school.

Back in 1962.

Now that couldn’t be right, could it? Lorinda’s head was spinning. How could a simple traffic case become so confusing?

“Your honor,” said the defendant gently. “I really do need this witness to make my case. Would it be all right if we just let her give her testimony and then you can use your judicial wisdom to make a credibility ruling on whether or not to take it into account while making your decision on the case?”

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