Copyright (c) 2013,   madvlad.  ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication in Mr Double's Palisade :
Tuesday, October 15, 2013

This story may be downloaded by Palisade members uniquely for their private use, and 
may not be distributed for profit or posted to newsgroups or other websites.  Mr Double 
may be contacted by emailing mrdouble@mrdouble.com.


A Palisade Author story from MrDouble's archive, 
Filename: passingj.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com




story_codes: M/g(6), cons

story_intro: After being sexually assaulted by her older foster brother, little Olivia is spared from having to testify at his trial by a kindly judge who prefers to conduct a more private investigation within the privacy of his chambers. By the end of the day, the girl has become familiar with some of the more pleasurable nuances of the legal system.

story_language: English




Passing Judgment

Written by madvlad


	Just barely past the opening statements, the trial was becoming a morass of motions. Judge Dennis Bridges removed his reading glasses to massage the bridge of his nose, allowing himself a brief respite. Then he prolonged it by patiently cleaning the lenses with a handkerchief.

	The trial involved multiple charges against one Jeffrey DeShaies, fourteen years old, for rape, gross sexual imposition, physical assault, and sexual assault of a child under the age of twelve. The child in question, Olivia Ross, was only six.

	The DeShaies were a foster family who had held custody of Olivia. The parents had been out for the evening and returned earlier than planned with another couple for some reason or another. Jeffrey had hurriedly scurried to his bedroom when they came into the house and the adults heard the door slamming.

	Mr. and Mrs. DeShaies had first checked Olivia's room and found the girl on the floor, naked and bleeding from between her legs. There were other fluids present on the child as well, particularly the white gobs oozing from her injured vagina.

	What the DeShaies might have done to cover this up is not known as the other couple had walked in right behind them. Mrs. DeShaies took Olivia to the hospital, refusing to make any statements to the hospital staff or to the police. Olivia did speak with various grown-ups, but never about what had taken place with her foster brother. By the time that rape kit samples were taken, the little girl was showing bruises on her torso and legs.

	The DNA of the semen taken from the six year-old's raped cunny was an exact match for Jeffrey's, but that didn't stop Howard Cutler, his lawyer from filing one motion after another for dismissal of all charges.

	That Cutler was representing Jeffrey DeShaies was not as odd as it first seemed. Cutler usually specialized in defending wealthy clients from a variety of charges - usually quite lurid ones. But he occasionally took pro bono cases like this to enhance his reputation and allow him to jack up the fees from his paying clients. If he won, he cashed in. If he lost, he was still credited with taking on a hopeless case. An innocent little girl suffers and he comes up smelling like expensive roses regardless of the outcome.

	Judge Bridges couldn't - and didn't - let his personal feelings about a lawyer influence how he ran his courtroom. Nevertheless, he couldn't deny that Cutler got under his skin. If the guy had looked like a greasy little ambulance-chasing weasel or a perfectly groomed country club shark in a designer suit, Bridges could have tolerated him a little more. But he looked like such an average guy - the kind you'd enjoy watching a football game with or shooting the shit with over beers and a barbecue grill - that it pissed Bridges off.

	"Counsels approach," he sighed once his glasses were back in place.

	Cutler came forward with an easy stride, falling behind Debbie Piotrowski, a bright young prosecutor who had just passed the bar exam and was taking her first lead assignment. It was supposed to be a slam dunk case, but Cutler had been a last-minute surprise and was sure to give Debbie rough ride. But she was the daughter of a cop and seemed like she had the toughness to match her intelligence.

	"Unless the Supreme Court just altered the Sixth Amendment before breakfast," Cutler began in a condescending tone as he barely gave Debbie a glance. "My client has the right to confront his accuser and the people have just declared that she won't be testifying. I know Miss Ross in the courthouse."

	"You're not tearing a frightened six year-old to pieces on the stand, Counselor," Bridges pointed out.

	"We are willing to have testimony in your chambers," Cutler said. "But since Miss Ross has accused my client of-."

	"Clarification, Your Honor," Debbie interrupted. "The people are accusing the defendant based solely on medical reports and the testimony of medical personnel. Little Olivia never made a statement - she was simply part of the forensic evidence."

	"You're calling a little girl 'forensic evidence?" Cutler asked with false indignation. Bridges noticed how Cutler dropped the "Miss Ross" when trying to stir sympathy for Olivia when it suited him.

	"She is evidence - thanks to your client," Debbie retorted. "But since all of the lab results are certified, she has nothing else to offer in the courtroom."

	"Good point," Bridges declared with a nod in Debbie's direction. "Motion dismissed, Mr. Cutler. I'll interview the victim myself to see if there is any need for her to testify in private or otherwise. Barring anything unusual, you'll have count on facing off against some pretty damning evidence."

	Bridges locked the door behind him and smiled at the youngster coloring a picture in his chambers. Olivia watched him, her dark eyes serious as he settled in the high-backed swivel chair behind his desk before motioning for her to come to him. She wore a red and black checkered dress over a white blouse. The hem of the dress ended at her knees while the ends of her brown hair brushed over the blouse's collar.

	"Do you know who I am, Olivia?" Bridges asked lightly.

	"Uh huh. You're the judge and very important. You're in charge of all the people who want to talk about my pee-pee."

	Bridges fought down a laugh that bubbled in his throat, having to swallow painfully to block his reaction. Olivia's description was probably by far the most unique one a judge presiding over a child rape trial had ever received.

	"Yes, I guess you could call me that. But I understand you won't tell anyone what happened, is that right?"

	Olivia nodded.

	"Will you tell anyone if you were to go in the courtroom?"

	Olivia adamantly shook her head.

	"You won't even tell me right here?"

	Another shake of the head from the girl.

	Bridges leaned back in his chair and continued his questioning.

	"Did you promise Jeffrey to keep it a secret?"

	"Uh huh."

	"Even though he hurt you?"

	"He came into my room and said he had to do something and it was a secret. So I said I wouldn't tell. Then he did the secret things."

	"I understand, Olivia. In fact, I think you're a very good girl for keeping a secret like you said you would."

	The child relaxed; glad to finally find a grown-up who understood.

	In fact, Olivia's determination to keep secrets was just one of the things that aroused Bridges' interest. That, along with her young age, was the primary attraction to the judge. Her mouth was small - perfectly proportional to her face - but had a generous pair of lips that gave the promise of providing some wonderful service.

	Bridges leaned forward and gave Olivia a wink.

	"Everything here that happens in my chambers is also a secret. Will you help me keep some new secrets?"

	"Sure!" Olivia agreed. It made her feel like a big girl to keep secrets - especially with a grown-up judge.

	"Good," Bridges said. "Now I have to do some things to find out what happened, but you won't have to tell any secrets, alright?"

	"Uh huh."

	"First, lift up your dress. That's right...a little higher...perfect."

	Olivia was now holding the hem of her dress up to her waist, revealing her small but full thighs and her white cotton panties. Bridges reached for the underwear's waistband and pulled the flimsy thing down to the girl's knees, laying bare the smooth cleft mound of her little sex. Olivia looked at the judge with unease.

	"I promise I won't hurt you, Olivia. But I need to check your pussy - what you call your pee-pee. Do you know why it's called a pussy?"

	"No."

	"Because it's so cute and it's fun to pet. But remember - that's a secret word."

	Olivia grinned, happy to learn a secret word. She looked down as the judge's hand reached for her, covering her mons and stroking it just like she would do with a pussy cat. It felt good like that - not like when Jeffrey had hurt her.

	Bridges was barely able to control his breathing has he fondled Olivia's cuntlet. It was so tiny and warm and completely hairless - the things that millions of illicit dreams were made of. Olivia made some odd noises in her throat, but did not pull away as Bridges diddled and probed his way around and just inside of her pussy.

	"Is that making you feel good?" he asked.

	"Yes, I...oh!"

	Olivia jerked slightly as Bridges momentarily caught the right place in the right way. He could tell by observing her reactions how she liked to be touched. They were learning together, which made the moment all the more erotic. He took his time, gradually making his way to the entrance to her cunt. He was moving his finger tip in small circles at the delicate edges of her inner labia when he felt the first kiss of her childish dew.

	From Olivia's expression, it was obvious that she knew something was happening, too, although she didn't understand her body's arousal. Gooey noises arose from her increasingly wet snatch as the man's fingers readied her for the next stage.

	Bridges pressed his middle finger into the little girl while using his other to continuously manipulate her feverish cuntlet. Finding the narrow gate to her immature sex, Bridges pushed forward, working against the resistance of the child's smallness while aided by her own precocious lubrication. He built up a rhythm, working the finger in and out, gaining a fractional bit more of depth each time he went in. Olivia's breaths came quick and loud as she took the penetration in her increasingly steamy little twat.

	What little trepidation she had first felt when the judge began to insert his finger had long vanished while rubbed her all over on the inside and out. This was better than the tearing and hurt from when her foster brother had busied himself down there. She felt the finger inside of her reach another place and knew her tiny, precious pussy was completely full.

	Bridges bent his finger slightly, pressing on the inside of Olivia's cunt at several points at once with his thrusting finger. Suddenly, the girl's knees buckled and she dropped her dress, grabbing at this arm and holding on to support herself.

	Though he could no longer see what he was doing, he could feel it all in exquisite detail. His fingers in her crotch danced and brushed over the soft, hairless flesh of her mound and the tops of her inner thighs. The innocent texture contrasted to the swampy heat he found in her tiny quim. The walls clenched around his finger and he could feel their spasms. A throaty whisper of a moan escaped the little girl's lips and then Bridge's hand got soaked by the small cascade of juice that escaped the cumming tot's pussy.

	Easing his finger from the child's body, Bridges brought it to his nose and sniffed her delicate bouquet. Then he licked his finger clean as Olivia watched in amazement. He chuckled and tugged the front of her dress up again.

	"Have you ever tasted your own pussy?" he asked.

	"No," she answered.

	Bridges dipped his ginger inside her cunny again and brought his soaked digit to her mouth. The little girl licked it, sampling the drippings of her sex. The judge gently pressed his finger against Olivia's plush, pliant lips. Olivia didn't resist, allowing the nectar coated digit into her mouth and sucked on it when she was told to.

	Bridges carefully eyed the six year-old's lips as they kept their seal around his finger. He slowly moved it in and out, fucking her mouth while she used her tongue to keep tasting her pussy on his skin. Her cheeks puffed out and drew in as she also kept sucking. The man could easily picture his prick where his finger was as it was obvious that Olivia was born to suck cock.

	But he had a trial to run and he finally extracted his finger. Taking his handkerchief, he dabbed it all over Olivia's crotch, capturing her essence in the fine linen before sliding her panties back into place.

	After calling the female police officer into his chambers, he instructed Olivia that the nice lady could take her to the bathroom and to lunch and to explore the courthouse while he was away.
It seemed like Cutler had run out of motions and instead went to some creative explanations for Jeffrey's nasty little escapade. This led up to a professional witness who testified that Jeffrey's adolescent hormonal overdrive was in fact a disease. Debbie Piotrowski, who was the youngest of seven children and never had any of her six older brothers every try anything remotely like that with her, shredded him on the stand.

	Cutler went back to the motions, demanding a need for a continuance due to the "abusive nature of the prosecution". Bridges' patience was wearing thin and he once again paused to rub his nose and clean his glasses with his handkerchief. But he smiled when he put his eyewear back in place, realizing that now his glasses inadvertently smelled like a six year-old pussy.

	The smile vanished and he sternly rejected Cutler's arguments. Forty-five minutes later, the lawyer gave up and, after a brief but fierce huddle with the DeShaies family, changed the plea to guilty.

	Bridges set the sentencing date and dismissed the court. He went to see another judge to confer on a different matter before returning to his chambers.

	Olivia was asleep on the couch, lying on her side. Her dress had bunched up, exposing a satiny thigh, part of her panties, and the lower half of a well-rounded little rump. When Bridges plopped a file folder full of paper on his desk, the girl stirred and then awoke with blinking eyes.

	She was still a little sleepy and sat still while the man completely undressed her this time. Bridges carried the nude child to his desk and sat down with her in his lap.

	"You don't have to worry about Jeffrey anymore," he told her as he caressed a small buttock.

	"I'm naked," Olivia said groggily.

	"That's so we can do something else that's secret," Bridges said as he unzipped his fly and let his cock spring out.

	The judge was not particularly well-endowed. In face, he was no larger in that department than the girl's former foster brother. His wife never seemed to mind; they quite had a healthy sex life, often playing it out in various rooms in the house. In their late forties, they had never been able to have children, but at least they took advantage of it in other ways.

	And now his smaller size would be put to good use - once he could put Olivia at ease. The girl whimpered at the sight of his tool, trying to shift backwards on his lap.

	"Don't worry, Olivia," Bridges whispered.

	"Boys' pee-pees hurt," she replied.

	"Mine won't."

	She looked doubtful until he pulled her in, pressing her snatch against his throbbing member. He slid her up and down, letting his cock rub against her plump cuntlet. Remembering the judge's magic fingers, Olivia wriggled happily while he moved her up and down and soon was polishing his shaft with her juices.

	When he held her at the top of one stroke and moved her cleft so it was on top of his glans, Olivia went still. He slowly pulled her down, moving her up and down so his prick could enter her much like his finger had; gradually in small thrusts. As his penis was thicker than his finger, Bridges took more time, letting the little girl's pussy stretch and open on its own.

	Olivia felt the compression inside her as her cunny spread around the man's prick. Every time it slid deeper, the judge's member rubbed the sensitive walls the child's pussy, making her gasp and squeak with every millimeter of penetration she took. When he had fully taken her, Bridges leaned back in his chair, letting Olivia snuggle against his chest while her hairless twat remained impaled on his rod.

	Bridges rocked back and forth the chair creaking softly as it pivoted on its base. The movement made Olivia slide up and down by about a half inch. It wasn't much, by Bridges didn't want to hurt the girl by thrusting in and out along the entire, if somewhat modest, depth of her tiny cunt. Her pussy was like a slippery vice as it was and the small amount of rubbing was all he needed. This was confirmed when his balls boiled over and he sent several thick wads of cum steaming into Olivia's itty bitty womb.

	Not wanting to deprive Olivia of anything, he reached down and squeezed her cunny, releasing and gripping it again to grind it against the meat buried inside. Olivia's eyes went wide as she tried to say something. No words came out, but her quivering and the sudden small burst of more juices in her snatch let Bridges know she had cum.

	Taking a wad of tissues from a box on his desk, Bridge's blotted up the mess as he slowly pulled Olivia off of him. She sat naked in his lap as he showed her the papers in the folder he had brought.

	"Do you know what these are?" he asked.

	"Those are lots of big words I can't read."

	"Okay, but they say you can come live with me now."

	"Really?" Olivia said as she gave him a huge smile.

	"Yes, but I have to check with my wife, first."

	Olivia's heart pounded while the judge called his wife.

	"That's right, honey. Uh huh, six. Hmm..."

	Bridges paused as he looked Olivia over before speaking into the phone.

	"Yes, she is cute. I hadn't really noticed."

	Ignoring his teasing, Olivia was probing her cunny with a finger and suddenly looked up, very concerned. Bridges covered the mouthpiece with his hand and asked her what was wrong.

	"My pussy is sticky inside," she whispered.

	"Oh," Bridges said, looking very worried. "I'd better tell my wife."

	Olivia wasn't sure what to do. Maybe the nice man's wife wouldn't want a little girl with a sticky pussy in her house.

	"Hey, Honey," Bridges said into the phone. "Olivia says she has a sticky pussy. Yeah, way up inside, I think. What? Okay, I'll let her know and we'll see you soon."

	He hung up the phone and patted Olivia on the head.

	"Don't worry," he told the little girl. "She said she'll lick you clean when we get home."


madvlad@mrdouble.com
http://www.mrdouble.bz/htm/authors/madvlad.htm























This story is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.


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