The Eyes Of Justice

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Anyone who is under the age of 18, along with anyone offended by stories of a sexual nature or containing sexual situations or offended by the idea of mind control in any fashion, please do not read this story.

This story takes place in the fictional city of Chrystal Heights. This is not significant in any way other than I hope to continue creating stories involving this town.

"I want 'The Rack.'"

Steven, my lawyer, went into a coughing fit. He thumped his chest a few times and finally caught his breath. "No, you don't want Judge Hanover to preside over your case, Tracy. Trust me."

I narrowed my eyes. "Don't tell me what I want, Steven. I'm nineteen years old. Nobody tells me what I want."

Steven looked at me incredulously. "Tracy, why in the world would you want Judge Hanover?"

I lit a cigarette. I knew smoking in Steven's office would piss him off, but I didn't really care. As my public defendant, he had to keep my case. "Because, from what I hear, he never gives jail time."

Steven took a drink of water. He actually looked a little pale. "That's true. Still, trust me, you don't want Hanover. How did you hear about him, anyway? He only handles special cases."

I shrugged. "The night they locked me up, some of the girls were talking about him. Anyway, get me on his docket. I don't want any jail time. I'll do fucking community service or whatever."

Steven shook his head. "Not a good idea, Tracy. You'd rather have jail time."

I slapped his desk. "What's the problem with Hanover, Steven? Fucking A...I mention his name and you practically wet yourself."

Steven shifted uncomfortably. "He's...he's a boob man."

I blinked. "What? What the hell does his preference have to do with my case? Have you fucking lost it?"

Steven sighed and shook his head. "Fine, Tracy, have it your way. If you want 'The Rack' so bad, I'll see what I can do. Don't say I didn't warn you, though."

***

On trial day I made sure to dress really nice. I wore brand new jeans and made sure my t-shirt didn't have any bands on it that might offend his Honor's sensibilities. I slid my cigarettes into my pocket, even though Steven had made me swear not to light up in the courtroom.

I met Steven in the main lobby of the Chrystal Heights' courthouse and we made our way toward the courtrooms. Instead of going down the usual hallway, however, we went down a little used passageway that I had thought was only for maintenance personnel. It wasn't very well lit and it smelled a bit dank. We walked pass a sign that stated, "No media beyond this point." At the end of the hall there stood a set of double doors. A clipboard hung on the wall next to the doorway. I picked up the clipboard and flipped through it until I located my name. I handed Steven the docket.

"Alright, Mr.Lawyer-Man, let's go get this over with. I'll say I'm sorry, Judgey-poo slaps me on the wrist, and I'm home in time to catch Dr.Phil."

Steven rolled his eyes. "Tracy, you have no idea what you're in for. Just look contrite and say as little as possible, alright? Don't get him mad, whatever you do."

We entered the courtroom and slid onto an empty bench. The room was surprisingly full, though not packed. Still, it was a strange contrast to the dark empty hallway just outside the doors. Then the bailiff shouted "All rise" and everyone around me got up. I stayed sitting. I was in the back, so Hanover couldn't see me. The hell with him.

Everyone finally sat down, so I got my first look at Judge Hanover, also known as "The Rack." I had heard of hanging judges, so I assumed his nickname was based on being a torture rack or something. He didn't look like much. Older guy, maybe in his fifties. Black hair, though really receded. I could usually wrap his type around my finger easily enough. I leaned against Steven and whispered, "Wow, he really looks tough."

Steven gave me a dirty look but didn't reply.

The judge said something to the bailiff, who then looked at the clipboard in his hand. Then the bailiff said, "The people of Chrystal Heights vs. Christine Pollard." A thin redhead stood up and walked before the judge, her hands clasped in front of her. Judge Hanover looked up from the paperwork.

"Well, Ms.Pollard," said the judge in a surprisingly deep baritone, "It says here that you assaulted a waiter because your hamburger was undercooked. What do you have to say for yourself?"

The pretty redhead wrung her hands nervously. "I'm sorry, your Honor. I was, um, drunk."

"Yes, so it says here. It also states that this is the fourth time you've assaulted somebody while under the influence of alcohol."

The redhead looked at the floor. "I'm working on that, um, problem, your Honor."

The judge looked around. "Is the waiter, ah, Ron here?"

A thin man in his thirties stood up. "I'm Ron, your Honor."

The judge nodded. "Excellent." Then he looked at the redhead and spoke, his deep baritone becoming commanding. "Ms.Pollard, you are aware that you have a problem maintaining proper composure when you are intoxicated, yet you insist on drinking anyway. The days this poor gentleman missed from his employment while recovering mean nothing to you. In short, you care for no one but yourself. You are selfish and cruel, Ms.Pollard."

The redhead spoke up. "That's not true! I..."

"Silence!" roared the judge, and the redhead went silent. "You will repay this gentleman for the hurt and trouble you have caused him." Then Judge Hanover's deep baritone took on a new quality as his Voice became darkly vibrant. "You are Sentenced to perform oral sex upon Mr.Johnson every night for ninety days. You will do so cheerfully and in whatever manner he chooses, and you will swallow all ejaculate. You will then apologize to Mr.Johnson for your behavior. That is All. Next!"

What the fuck?

I turned and looked at Steven as they led the crying redhead away. Steven was smirking. "I warned you."

I was outraged. "He can't do that!"

Steven shrugged. "According to the Chrystal Heights' special charter, yes, he can. Judge Hanover believes strongly in justice, and he deals it out in a special way."

The bailiff was giving me a dirty look, so I stopped whispering to Steven and turned my attention back to the next case.

The judge was berating a blonde woman who had apparently stolen a guy's identity and used it to empty the guy's bank account. Then the judge read some more and looked back up at the blonde woman.

"How old are you, Cindy?" he asked.

"I'm twenty-four, your Honor," the blonde replied.

Judge Hanover nodded. "And it says you are quite healthy."

Cindy nodded, looking confused. "Yes, your Honor."

The judge turned his unforgiving stare on the blonde woman. "Cindy, the gentleman whose identity you stole is married to a woman who is unable to bear children. The money you stole was funding they had set aside to arrange for the care of foster children. This was very important to them and you disrupted their lives- and the lives of the potential borders- because you felt entitled to their money." Judge Hanover's Voice became dark and ominous again. "You are therefore Sentenced to bear three children for the barren couple. You will cease using any form of birth control and your fertility is now absolute. The pregnancies will be consecutive, with each following the previous one immediately. You will also perform any household duties the couple deem safe for one in that condition. That is All. Next!"

This was fucking outrageous! I glared at Steven.

Steven shrugged. "That girl should be in jail for five-to-ten years, based on the amount she stole. Instead she's spending three years perpetually pregnant. Like you said...Judge Hanover doesn't give jail time."

I fumed. This was bullshit. I didn't care what the judge said, I wasn't doing any of that stuff. Then the bailiff looked at his clipboard and said, "The people of Chrystal Heights vs. Tracy Towns."

My heart jackknifed. I was up.

We stood up and Steven escorted me to the front of the courtroom. I struck a casual pose and waited.

Judge Hanover looked over the paperwork and then looked up at me. "So, Tracy, it seems that you have been harassing the owner of a convenience store through shoplifting and threats for some time now, despite repeated legal warnings and even a restraining order."

I shrugged. "I think it sounds worse than it actually is." Steven nudged me. "Um...your Honor."

The judge raised his eyebrows. "Really, now? It says you were caught shoplifting seven times, arrested on three of the occasions, and even going as far as to throw bricks through all the plate glass windows on three separate occasions. You were told never to enter the store- or even the parking lot- again. Yet you went back, broke a great deal of merchandise, and even threw several items at the storeowner, Samuel Kane. The transcripts from your most recent trial state that you said, 'He brought it on himself by telling on me.'

I shrugged. "I know I shouldn't have been there, your Honor, but I was just trying to apologize to Mr.Kane."

"Come now, Tracy, surely you don't expect me to believe that," he said.

I looked non-chalant. "You don't have to believe me. It's the truth, though."

Judge Hanover glanced toward the bailiff. "Swear her in," he said.

The bailiff brought a book over and instructed me to place my right hand on it. Then the judge Spoke. "Do you Swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

My voice felt vibrant as I said, "I do."

The judge nodded. "Alright, Tracy, tell me what happened."

I smiled, trying to convey that this was all just a misunderstanding. Heh. "Well, I was still mad that he had called the cops on me just because I stole a couple packs of cigarettes and a candy bar, so I just went there to tell him off. He got all pissy and threatened to call the cops again just because I wasn't supposed to be there, so I trashed the place. I knew it cost him a lot of money and I would just get a slap on the wrist even if they managed to catch me. He's a jerk. All he cares about is his stupid store. I can't help it if I don't have enough money to get the stuff I want, and he must have a lot of money if he owns a store, so what was the big deal?"

My eyes widened. That was not what I had meant to say.

The judge looked at me with smoldering eyes. "Did you throw things at Mr.Kane, Tracy?"

No!

screamed my mind.

It's his word against yours. Say no!

"Yes, I did. I was just going to say he attacked me," my mouth said.

The judge nodded. "Very well. Is Mr.Kane here?"

Sam stood up. I hadn't noticed him there. He said, "Yes, your Honor."

The judge asked, "Do you have any employees, Mr.Kane?"

"No, your Honor. Business hasn't been very good lately," Sam said.

"I see," said Judge Hanover. "I have just checked your business zoning, Mr.Kane. I think we can help you."

"Thank you, your Honor," said Sam.

Judge Hanover stared at me. "Tracy, you have assaulted and stolen from a store-keeper simply because he refused to let you get away with stealing his livelihood. You represent what I feel is a great weakness in our justice system. Simply, there is rarely true justice."

The judge seemed to warm to his theme. "Some feel laws should be preventive in nature. Some feel the system should encourage rehabilitation of the criminal. Still others feel the system should be punitive." Then he gave me that smoldering look. "I feel it should be all three."

I shifted nervously. This was not going well for me. Still, I wasn't going to spend time in jail, at least.

Judge Hanover's Voice became vibrantly dark and ominous once more. "Tracy Towns, you are Sentenced to become an indentured employee at Samuel Kane's convenience store for a period of three years. You shall work topless, as that will, in all likelihood, attract a larger number of customers. Once the store has closed for the evening, you will service Mr.Kane in any way he wishes, whether it be orally, anally or vaginally."

My eyes widened. "You can't do that!"

Judge Hanover's eyes iced over. "Tracy, I will have order in this court room and you are guilty of Contempt of Court." Then he leaned forward. "I see a number of problems with you, Tracy. You steal. In the spirit of prevention, your fingernails shall grow to a length of one inch, to make stealing more difficult. Let the records show that the color shall be red. You have a disrespectful mouth as well. In the spirit of rehabilitation, you shall only speak with...hmmm...let's say, vocabulary block 'B'. And in the spirit of punishment...inasmuch as you will be working topless for the next three years..Ms.Towns, do you know why they call me, 'The Rack'?"

I shrugged, struggling to keep my composure but trying not to show it. "Because you're, like, you know, a torture rack and stuff, I guess." My eyes widened again. Holy shit. I was talking like an airheaded bimbo.

The judge leaned back in his chair. "That is incorrect. They call me 'The Rack' because that is my favorite punishment...to give selfish young ladies a 'rack', so to speak. Due to being guilty of contempt, you are further Sentenced to possess E-sized breasts as well as being restricted from wearing any clothing above your waist, until such time as your sentence has been satisfactorily carried out. That is All."

I stared incredulously, although I knew better than to say anything. I was sentenced to have a huge rack? Was he insane?

I jumped as I suddenly felt a tickling sensation on my fingertips. I lifted my hands. My jaw dropped as I watched my fingernails grow before my eyes, turning a bright cherry red even as I watched.

Then my eyes widened and I gasped as it suddenly felt like a billion little insects were biting me from my waist to my neck. The burning, biting sensations were so intense that I ripped my t-shirt off immediately, my heart racing. The sensations faded from my belly and my shoulders, but my breasts were still burning. I spun around, frantically trying to unhook my bra. Finally Steven reached behind me and unsnapped it with a deft flick of his fingers. The sensations faded and I leaned against a chair to catch my breath.

And that was when I realized my tits were growing.

It was almost unnoticeable at first, but soon it obvious my boobs were swelling. I watched helplessly as my chest swelled straight through three cup sizes without pause, finally settling at what I assumed were Judge Hanover's dictated size. I bit my lower lip, trying to get used to the unexpected weight. Then it finally crashed down on me that I was standing topless in front of the whole courtroom and I couldn't do anything about it.

Judge Hanover's deep baritone sounded once more, although it was an ordinary voice once more. "Go to work, Ms.Towns."

My cheeks burned. Sam got up to leave as well, his eyes on my ass. Steven walked beside me, humming as we left the courtroom. Only later would I realize the song he was humming was, "I Fought the Law and the Law Won."

I had asked for "The Rack" and gotten it.

THE END