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.Suspect	By : keithcompany Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Gulliver's Travels Views: 2031 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on Gullivers Travels by Jonathan Swift.

Chapter List
- 1-Suspect
- 1
More disclaimer: Do not repost this story beyond the limits of the Fair Use standards of Copyright Law (quotes, examples, ‘you gotta read this’ excerpts, the usual). the author is not making any kind of profit from this fanfic.
I tend to work with size-themed fiction, which includes overwhelming control issues and outrageous differences in scale. Such disparate sizes between people is not for everyone, so be warned.
----------
They were the weirdest living conditions I'd ever experienced in my entire life. And considering the various places I'd been since I was shipwrecked on Brobdingrag, that was saying something.
From what I remember of the movie, and what little I remember of the book, Gulliver told his tale accurately. The people were large, about twelve times nominal human scale, and everything around me was of a size to match them. The science of the place was a few hundred years behind humanity, while their morality was a bit ahead.
They have, for example, greater and lesser crimes, matching the felony and misdemeanors of home, but they also seriously consider the victims when classifying illegal behavior. I was accused of a Crime Against Person(s), which they see as distinct from crimes against State, Society or One's Self.
Crimes Against Person(s), in their view, would be the worst crimes of all. One can find uncommon cause with a government, and the needs of the individual may not match the mainstream of a culture. Such crimes are therefore seen as civil disobedience. They cannot be tolerated by a functioning society, but the motivation to doing such things is almost cherished.
Crimes Against Self are almost a self-correcting problem. You inflict the punishment as you commit them.
But the type of mentality that can prey upon fellow members of one's society, those are evil people indeed. As I was accused of such a crime, my treatment was dictated very specifically.
I was locked in a solitary cell deep within the castle that guarded the northern approach to the capital city, Lorbrulgrud. That was beyond anyone's authority to change. But being the only human living on the island at the time gave them some challenges.
I was small enough to walk between the bars and make an escape, should I choose to do so. Thus, they locked me inside a dollhouse, placed inside the greater cage of my cell. Mounted on a pedestal, my room's floor was a good forty feet above the stone floor that my guardians walked on.
They were also worried that my fellow prisoners would be jealous of my accommodations. They had one room, my house had a dozen. So they walled off all but one chamber, going to great lengths to calculate the one closest in scale to the size of a cell. Great iron staples kept the door of what had been a study closed. An iron mesh covered the open wall that faced the cell door.
I was looking through that when my learned counsel approached. The guards went through the convoluted process of unlocking the door, searching him, making sure I was in place, letting him in and locking the door behind him.
He sat at the one seat in the room, the bed I'd never touched, and leaned forward. "My fellow, you're in grave danger."
"Sassithale, I'm innocent. I mean, how could I be anything but? Have you contacted the queen?"
"Yes, Robertjaytern, I have." That worried me. I'd finally broken my solicitor of the habit of joining my names together, unless he was really stressed. It wasn't a good sign. "She cannot risk appearing to alter the course of justice. She will help, but not directly."
"I'd been kind of counting on a pardon, or a Writ of Obvious To A Blind Man."
"A what?" he asked. I waved it away. He was used to my lapses into English when I was stressed and didn't inquire further. "Well, one of the queen's protégés happens to be a very good court lawyer." He squirmed a bit on the bed. "If, ah, well, you should consider..."
"Sassithale, you're an excellent copyright attorney," I assured him. "And a wonderful agent. But if you don't feel confident taking my case before the magistrate, I won't lose any confidence in the abilities you've already demonstrated." His sigh of relief knocked me back on my ass.
When I came back up, the protégé was going through the entry process. She was an imposing figure. But then, all the giants are imposing figures. Still, in her court robes and lawyer's hat, she took up a lot of the available room in the cell. She stood 68 feet to my 68 inches, or so, not counting court costume.
She bent down to introduce herself and I was lost in her eyes. Dark blue with flecks of sapphire, her blonde hair seemed a bulls eye with heaven as the target.
"Not bothering to look at my cleavage?" she said with soft sigh. "I've lost my ability to sway men. Even tiny men."
"Court robes never show any cleavage," I replied. "I didn't bother to look." We exchanged a smile.
"Robert Jay Tern," Sassithale said, "meet your undefeated court representative, Dhondahilde. Dhondahilde, meet your rather headstrong client, Robert."
I stuck my hand through the mesh. "Pleased to meet you, Dhondahilde." She brushed a knuckle against my hand. "You'll be my first accused rapist!"
-----
Sassithale had spared no expense on my legal problems. All of it my own money, but I had plenty. Gulliver spent a lot of time learning how these people lived. Bonehead. Once I spoke the language, I spent my time talking.
I dictated stories that were published, sold to a greedy public. There wasn't nearly as much excitement on Brobdingrag as there had been on my TV set. I told tales of castaways, cargo pilots, lounge singers, private investigators and kitchen staff workers.
I avoided cop shows. The queen refused to allow me to invent or even describe gunpowder. I could make a private investigator work with a sword, but cops shouting 'Stop Or I'll Stab!' just left me cold.
Anyway, I had oodles of funds available. Dhonda put it to work. First of all, she bribed the guards. I bribed the guards, really, it was my money. Accommodations improved, food became edible and the bedding stopped smelling of mouse pee.
The arrangements to move money from my banking fund to my bribery fund was rather time consuming, so I cut it short. I dictated an episode of the Simpsons for each guard, and outlined the Count of Monte Cristo for Lord High Warden. I told them to come back when those stopped paying.
Next, she went about hiring experts. Experts are crucial in a Brobdingrag court. The city Watch is about as efficient as campus police. As long as you're sober, and fully dressed, they won't bother you. Or notice you, really.
The case against me was almost devoid of what I'd consider 'evidence.' Rather, the interested parties would testify, experts would counter, and the juries would decide. That one got my attention when she explained it.
"Plural juries?" I asked, pacing across the bed. Dhonda sat at one end, her papers spread around her. I wandered over and climbed onto a legal reference as she explained.
"There are four classes of crimes, so there are four juries," she said, pointing to various booths in a sketch of the courtroom. "Four men of note sit and listen, deciding if your crime is against Society, Self, Persons or State."
"But I've been accused of a crime against a person," I argued. "The Lady Withielamm. Surely only one jury can sit in judgment on me?"
She shook her head. "I don't know about your lands," she said, "but there are basically two ways to deal with a criminal charge." She reached her hand out to hover over my head as she counted them off. Like I could miss those things at any distance. "One, we prove that you didn't do it. Or, we prove that they can't prove that you did do it. Or we cast doubt on the testimony that says you did it."
"That's three things."
"That's one thing," she said sternly. "Innocence."
"Ah."
"The other," she counted to two, "is that you did do it, but you had a good reason."
"Ah. 'I killed him, your honor, but he was about to kill my sister,'" I offered.
"Excellent. So, each jury is there to ensure that your defense doesn't move you out of one criminal area but into another." I stared at her. She bent over to lecture. She wasn't in court robes today. The tunic she wore didn't exactly display anything, but the outline of a healthy bosom moved over my head. I missed most of her explanation. "...would therefore interfere with affairs of State," she finished.
"I see," I lied. I just didn't think it affected me. I was trying to look thoughtful when she scooped me up into the air. She placed me down on a circle on the map of the courtroom.
"Now, you'll be here where the accused stands," she explained. We covered her strategy.
-----
On the day of the trial, a jailor delivered me to a small room in the courthouse. By small, of course, I mean only sufficient for one 767 maintenance hangar. Sassithale offered me three suits to change into. Dhondahilde selected one for me and I dressed. Then we marched into court.
Marched. Across half a mile of hallway, down the stairs into the business area of the court, I tried to keep up with her pumping legs. The entire court watched me leaping down the steps, running and panting. At the dock, I stood quietly in the center of the space. It looked like a rocket gantry.
The prosecutor, Sir Vistifalla, glanced over the rail down at me and sneered. Well, it was his job to be the evil hatchet man of the legal system. I waved up at him in a friendly manner. Maybe he'd think I was too simple to know who he was.
The judge entered and we all stood for His Honor Polemarbly. I was already standing, of course. When everyone was seated, my counsel went to work.
"Your honor, can we have a small break with tradition? My client can see nothing from his position, of his accusers or his examiners. Could he have a chair?"
"And a booster seat?" the prosecution joked.
"Excellent suggestion," she replied. I could hear her smile, though I couldn't see it. The judge allowed it. At a snap of her fingers, twelve pages entered. One carried a chair, the rest had lawbooks. They built them up until level with the top of the rail. Then Dhonda lifted me to stand upon the top of the pile.
"Yes, yes, your client is small," the prosecution said wearily. "You've made your point, can we get on with it?"
"I agree," the judge said. "Let's get on with it."
"Certainly," Dhonda said. Then sat down.
My charges were read, the juries in their staggered benches were introduced, prosecution made opening threats, defense made light of them, the judge silenced a fan of mine in the gallery and we were off.
The prosecutor brought in the Lady Withielamm. She described visiting me on several occasions to discuss publication of my stories. During the last, she became dizzy. I offered her my guest room, that she might lay down. She dozed, and awoke at sunset. She was tied to the bed, her clothes were torn in rather intimate places, and she was quite sure that someone had had their way with her.
"Now, milady," Vistifalla oozed, "do you know who it was that ravished you?"
"Yes," she cried, pointing at my place on a book. "It was him! That little beast!" No one quite laughed. But Lady Withielamm was not a small woman, even by local standards. Pleasantly plump, she was slightly shorter than my lawyer, but half again as round in most places. The chair she sat in creaked as she waved her finger in my direction and several of the faces in court showed amusement.
I thought we should be done there. The very idea was ludicrous on the face of it. But we were to march this parade to the very end of the line.
Dhonda didn't do much counter questioning. She asked for specifics, which the Lady found rather too personal to reveal, and the court tolerated it. So she asked for any sort of reason why she suspected me.
"It was his home!" she cried. "He ravished me in a barbaric manner, without regard to his duties as a host!"
"Just how brutal could he have been if you slept through it?" Dhonda asked. The gallery roared. Withielamm refused to respond and was soon let go.
My maid, Oosifla, spoke about that afternoon. I'd let her go at almost the same instant I was arrested. Oh, don't look scandalized. I gave her a tremendous severance (The Hound of the Baskervilles), so that she could testify free and clear, without fear of retribution. There was no conflict of interest and her account was as true as she could make it.
She admitted to finding and untying the Lady, knew nothing about any ravishing (brutal or otherwise), and thought I'd spent the afternoon in my upstairs office. When she'd brought out my dinner, the sound of indignant sniping drew her into the bedroom.
"Now," Dhondahilde asked, "do you remember the ropes that you untied?"
"Oh, yes, Miss. Great shanks of sailing twine they were about... About as big around as my finger," she said, showing the digit to the juries and the judge.
"About as big around as Mr. Tern's leg, then?"
"Yes," she agreed. She gave me a small wave, then.
"Your honor!" Vistifalla called. "This witness is clearly biased!" Oosifla looked terrified then. She never did stand up to criticism, however lightly applied.
"Has she said anything you feel untrue?" the judge asked. "Considering that the accused has made her a wealthy woman, if the papers have it right, I'll allow one tiny wave to her benefactor." He nodded to my maid, who looked relieved. "She has, however, given a true testimony, and I find no reason to think she shaded the truth in any direction."
Everyone sat down and the judge closed the trial for the day. Oosifla blew me a kiss on her way out. With the juries already out of the court, Dhonda just slipped me into a pocket to return me to the planning room. After a few minutes going over the case, she turned me over to my jailors.
------
On the second day, we made the same entry, me scrambling to my place, my shoe heels drumming on the floor to the silence of the viewers.
Vistifalla clapped as I took my place on my booster-pile. "Once again, you remind us that the defendant is an insect. Will you build him a similar scaffold to climb up to the headsman's block?"
"No," she replied, giving me a pat on the head, "but we will give the man an extra sharp pair of scissors on the day."
Three members of the watch spoke at the start of the next day's proceedings. They had found the upset woman in my kitchen, sipping at a tea and rubbing at rope burns on her wrists and ankles. They separated and questioned my staff, who claimed ignorance, aside from my maid. They questioned me, and I claimed innocence and ignorance.
Their stories matched very well, very practiced. I was couldn’t have been more proud of their recitals if I'd written them.
And that was the end of anything resembling crime scene investigation.
We went into the expert testimony. The hardest part for the prosecution was coming up with a rape scenario that let me overpower a giant woman.
They came up with a Doctor Finnlan. Vistifalla propped him up nicely.
"So, Doctor, how could a man like the rapist over there-"
"Objection!" Dhondahilde cried.
"What?" the judge asked. The cry was straight out of the courtroom dramas I had published. Not Brobdingragian law. It was a legal setback, but I knew I had a fan. After the kerfluffle, the testimony continued.
"Well, as you know, the last Englishman to visit our shores was a trained physician," Finnlan shared. "He identified a number of plants among the local flora that had medicinal values. We're still cataloguing all the treatment applications we're deriving from his notes."
"Very impressive, Doctor," the lawyer handjobbed. "So is it possible that another Englishman might have advanced medicinal knowledge?" I'd tried on several occasions to explain just how many lands there were, aside from the one Gulliver came from. But they persisted in using Englishman as a synonym for humanity.
"Oh, very possible. Even likely."
"And he could dose someone sufficiently to leave them helpless?"
"He certainly could."
Visti leaned forward, first glancing around to check the expressions of the juries. "And then he might be able to have his way with them?"
"As a scenario," Finnlan boasted, "I find nothing to doubt about it." A low moan of glee sounded from the gallery. The judge chose to ignore it.
"Excellent," Vistifalla chortled, taking his seat.
Dhondahilde shot to her feet. She'd expected this sort of testimony and we were prepared for it.
"Doctor," she said, with a careful pause. It implied nicely that his credentials were suspect, without actually saying so. "...Finnlan, you say that an Englishman could have this advanced apothecarial knowledge. Do you know of any time that Mr. Tern demonstrated such knowledge?"
"No," he said calmly. He'd probably also expected such a defense tactic. "But he does claim that his specialty is in some fantasy machine, a conntuter. Lacking any sort of way to evaluate this claim, it's equally possible that he's merely hiding his true profession. Which could be physic, medic or apothecary. The possibilities are endless."
"Possible," she stressed in response. "But not proven."
"Not in the classic sense," he answered. I understood his reply to suggest that he'd grasped the truth, even without evidence. Fucker.
"Tell me, Doctor....Finnlan, do you know of any herbs or other medicinal plants that could be used to explain the condition Lady Withielamm found herself in?"
"Yes, there's the flower of-"
"Could you just tell me the number?"
"Seventeen," he replied instantly. He'd done his homework.
"And of those, how many have side effects that allow a physician to identify their use?" She paced while he stared into the distance, thinking.
"Ten, or so..." he replied. She reached the end of her walk closest to me, offered a wink, and turned around.
"So, did anyone treating Lady Withielamm note these effects?"
"No," he said softly. "But the other seven-"
"How many of those can grow in the climate of Lorbrulgrud?" she cut him off.
"Um, two," he admitted.
"And were any of those found in the defendant's garden?"
"Not that I am aware of," he said. What was that line? 'He sagged, visibly, like an animal taking a bullet.' It was nearly my favorite line in Fear and Loathing, and I almost danced a jig to realize it described this pompous ass. But he rallied. "Still, the theory is that there is a plant Mr. Tern knows of that we don't."
"That's a good theory," she said happily. "The best theories, the philosophers tell us, are those that are never disproved by later evidence. Of course, the only reason it's so protected is that there is no evidence FOR this theory either." The juries and the better educated of the gallery watchers snickered at her line.
"So, you're testifying that there may be a mystery plant my client used to dose his victim and have his way with her. Is that right?"
"Yes. It would be necessary for him to do so, in order to have any chance at wreaking mischief without her stopping him."
"Well, if she was so sedated, why did he tie her down?" More laughter followed as he gaped, open mouthed, at Dhondahilde's back. She walked over to stand beside me.
"Tell me doctor, how large is the accused?"
"He is famously one twelfth the size of a normal man," he replied.
"So, if he were to craft a drug to affect one of our order," she said slowly, "how should he go about calculating the dosage?"
"That would be a straightforward multiplication by twelve, I should think," he said, putting his foot in it. Dhonda picked me up and moved me to the evidence table. I stood quietly while she approached the witness.
"May I see your belt, sir?" He stood, a confused look passing between him and Visti.
"Your honor, what does the expert's testimony have to do with his belt?"
"Merely establishing his expert qualities, your honor," she replied. She used a piece of chalk to mark where the doctor fastened his buckle. "May I borrow this?" she asked. At a nod from the judge, he stripped it out of his trousers and handed it over.
She refastened it at the mark and laid it on the table, around me. From my perspective, it looked like the fence of a corral.
"It seems to me that it would take more than twelve men of my client's side to fill the area of your waist," she said.
"Oh! Well, uh, the fact is, I would be about twelve times as wide AND twelve times as thick."
"So how much bigger than him would you be?" she asked.
"Twelve times twelve, a hundred and forty four times as big." She nodded.
"But that's just one slice across you, right? You're twelve times as thick, and as wide, AND as tall. So how much bigger is that, again?
"Um...that's uh...carry the...about 1500 times as big, all told."
"I think you'll find that it's more than 1700 times," she corrected him. At a wave, a page stepped forward with a soup tureen to set it beside me. It was filled with marbles. I was put in mind of a trash barge dumping bowling balls.
Dhondahilde selected one marble. "So, if the mythical drug had a dosage of one pill," she rolled it back and forth between her fingers. "Then my client would have to have fashioned more than 1700 of his doses to have the same affect upon a normal man. Or woman." She tossed her marble back into the bowl and stepped away.
It was a trick, the pile of marbles should have been compared to a Brobdingragian for scale, but the point here wasn't scientific accuracy. The juries looked down on me, standing in the shadow of a gigantic pile of 'pills' and considered what effort it would be for me to make so much.
Vistifulla made an effort to recover his expert, but the man's impact against me was irretrievably hobbled.
In the end, though many people offered 'he could have' or 'he might have' opinions, there was nothing that convinced any of the juries that I was guilty. The judge set me free with the thanks of the court for my cooperation.
With justice finally served, the queen could embrace me again. And she actually did, at a party celebrating my release from prison and suspicion. There was much revelry, and a lot of discussion about the motivations and mechanics of rape.
The queen, a long time fan of me and my published stories, gathered me into one hand and crushed me to her bosom. A single tear splashed on my head as she bemoaned my close brush with fate.
"Not at all," I said, wiping my hair out of my face. "I had the best defense lawyer in the kingdom at my disposal." When my words were repeated to the rest of those present, a great cheer went up for Dhondehilde. They sang her praises and plied her with drink.
Hours later, she carried me up the front steps of my mansion. She tugged on the door bell before I managed to get her attention.
"I let all my staff go," I shouted. She stared at me. "When I was arrested? So they could testify, never fearing that I'd punish them?" She nodded, then tried the door.
"It's locked!" she noted. But the Englishman-door in the trim wasn't. I entered and dragged the key out to her. She let herself in and scooped me up again.
"Home again, home again," she sang happily. She wasn't drunk, not quite, but she had rather well lubricated her brain at the party. "So, my little client needn't fear the chop."
"Nope, all thanks to you," I replied from her hand. She walked through the parlor, into the side room where the crime had been alleged.
"Don't thank me," she muttered, looking around the bed. "I had a reputation to uphold." I was shocked.
"You mean, you did this all for your standing? Nothing for me?" She turned to face me, by bringing me up in front of her face.
"No, no. I have great regard for you. You're the cutest client I've ever represented." Her great finger patted my head in the manner of a woman with a pet. "And you looked so adorable in the Box."
"Ah. Well, would you like to lay down?" I pointed towards the bed. "I don't have a staff to offer you coffee or refreshments, but you look like you could do with a rest." I'd fix this arrogant, condescending bitch.
"Thank you," she said, stretching out on the bed. I hopped down from her hand to the bed, jogging up to the pillow next to her ear.
"I had the room decorated to my order," I said. "What do you think of the chandelier?"
She gazed upwards to view it. It was positioned just right to put a slight strain on her eyes as she looked at it.
"That's odd. What do you call the style?"
"That's a disco ball, Dhonda," I replied. "Lots of tiny little mirrors all over it, spinning around." A wind vane on the roof kept the ball rotating. At the moment, it was slow and stately. "See how often a mirror goes by at just the right angle to reflect your face."
She stared upwards. I watched as her eyes teared, and the lids blinked. Faster and faster, they snapped down and back up. Judging my moment carefully, I suggested that she take a nap.
I don't know why, but the giants are horribly, horribly vulnerable to suggestion. If I had a hypno coin the size of Captain America's shield, I think I could conquer this nation.
When she had passed some simple tests, I put her into a deep sleep. Then I ran off to prepare.
----
"And...wake." Dhunda's eyes fluttered open. She focused on me, standing on one breast.
"Am... Ah, Mr. Tern. I must have fallen asleep."
"Yes, technically," I agreed. "So, you like my courtroom dramas?"
"Oh, yes," she said happily. "I don't always understand the legalities, but the characters come across nicely."
"Excellent. Glad to hear. From now on, I'll have the publishers send you a copy of anything I produce." Her eyes flickered around the room for a bit. She could tell something was wrong.
"Um, excuse me, but I wonder if you could somehow get a physician?" she asked. "I can't seem to move."
"Really?" I asked. "Can't you raise your right hand?"
"No," she replied.
"Oh!" I snapped my fingers. "I phrased that wrong. Raise your right hand." It rose up from her side. She stared at it in surprise. A hawser from my wrecked sailing ship was tied around it.
"You know, the lawyers in my stories often talk about evidence that impacts the case." I walked down her breast, across her throat and onto her pillow, talking as I passed her ear. "I never get too deeply into that, because the science base just isn't here. I'd have to explain far too much for you guys to even grasp the issues of a CSI episode. But that's okay."
I grabbed the string and walked back to stand within her view. "I found that there's a dumbwaiter in the house. It isn't used, nothing I own takes a giant much effort to take to my room. So it's boarded up. Even with a counterweight, it takes me two days to get it up to the top floor. Then I have to lock it in place," I shook the string, "shift weights onto it. It takes me a month to get ready for this."
"For what?" she asked. I pointed to her wrist, with the line around it.
"Forensic medicine would probably have noticed that the rope burns on the Lady's wrists didn't match the ropes she was tied with." I yanked on the string, releasing the stay, allowing the dumbwaiter to plunge down. The ropes snaking through the bed frame were pulled taut, stretching my lawyer out like a sacrifice on an altar.
She cried out briefly. "Yes, that's where the burns came from," I said. I then demonstrated the knots with the giants' rope. I didn't have to pull them tight enough to restrain. Laying the ropes around in the pattern of the knot I desired was enough.
For Dhunda, I only did one limb. After the ropes were in place, I released the line, then walked back to her ear. "Tug your wrist gently upwards," I ordered. She complied, staring death at me.
"What devilment is this? Did you drug me?"
"Not at all," I said. "You're just in the mood to cooperate with my every command." As I spoke, I climbed up onto her blouse, crowbar slung over my shoulder. "I don't really need to tie you down, it's just more fun. I prove that you, all of you giants, are really more powerless than little old me." It was short work to pry the buttons through the holes and bare her cleavage.
The corset was a bit more of a challenge, but I eventually freed one breast from bondage, ignoring her yelps as I tugged. The whole time, working up a sweat in close proximity to her heaving bosom, was almost like sex itself.
Her nipples were even larger than I'd imagined them. I licked at the exposed one for a while, caressing each fold and bump of the teat with finger and tongue.
"Argh! Stop that!" she muttered. "Why are you doing this?"
"Why does anyone rape? To exert control. I've had my way with a dozen women in the city. Most are completely unaware of the fact."
"A rather frank admission on your sexual skills," she said snidely.
I shrugged and walked down her belly and leg to her knee. The return trip was tricky. The underwear layers of a proper lady of Lorbrulgrud reminded me of a circus tent folded to fit inside a fast-food joint. I'd learned the trick of it, though, and sought her thigh first of all. Thereafter, with one hand upon her bare skin, I just kept going in the direction of flesh.
I also knew that the physical contact reminded her of my location as I approached my target.
Eventually, I came up on her pussy. The pantaloon or whatever they call the closest layer was rather strongly odored by the time I arrived. She hadn't changed all her layers after court, I supposed. Still, it wasn't too strong.
I stroked and kissed, exploring her womanhood with impunity. Just touching it was almost enough for me. A woman 1700 times my size and she couldn't say no to me.
That'd show her. Eventually, even I tired of the game and crawled back out.
Up at her ear, she continued to glare at me.
"You have to release me eventually," she hissed. "And then, little man..."
"And then nothing," I said. "You're going to wake up tomorrow, slightly disheveled. After the night we had, that's to be expected. Your clothes aren't cut or torn. If you even suspect that I did anything, you'll be quiet.
"I know that the legal system of this great kingdom differs from home. If you got a guilty man off of a crime, they see you as an accomplice. You're as guilty of my rape as I am, now."
She tried to strain against the ropes but her arms wouldn't respond. "I don’t understand," she finally said. "If you can get completely away with this, why did you let yourself get caught?"
I pressed against the side of her breast, watching the ripples move through the booby flesh. "I wasn't caught. I was accused, examined, and vindicated. It was a win. And if anyone else comes forward in the future..."
We were interrupted by Sassithale. He was talking as he entered. "I heard voices! I was going to tell you I arranged some staff to start working tomorrow, you'll just have to-" When he finally noticed the situation, he looked at me, then at the breast beside me, then the face of Dhondahilde, then the breast again.
"Sassi," I shouted. "Get out!" He turned and ran without a word. Dhonda cried after him but he never looked back. She turned to glare at me.
"This paralysis you worked on me. You've done the same thing to him!"
"No, no," I said. "I just pay him a shit-ton of money." I stepped closer to her ear. "Now, time to go to sleep," I said. "I have a lot of work to do, cleaning this up."
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