Interlude ?

"All rise for honourable judge Khenumra," the well-built bailiff cried out.

As the judge entered the courtroom room, the bailiff's tight-fitting blue pants, suddenly got tighter.

The judge was wearing the well-recognizable outfit, suitable for his potion. A white wig and black judge robes, but nothing else. The soft patter of his feat as moved through the courtroom, showed that he was barefooted.

The robes were made of transparent silk, giving a tantalizing glimpse of a slender body.

From little what bailiff could see, and he could not resist trying to catch more than a peek, the judge's body was a perfect work of art. Like Michelangelo's David, only so much sexier.

The judge was utterly perfect like a superbly composed collage of the best parts of every face bailiff was ever attracted to,

The judge approached the bench.

That piece of furniture dominated the courtroom. Its size, position, and design demonstrated the judge's power. It was made of some transparent plastic, showing that the insides were hollow. A naked, and collared slave was under it, chained to the judge's chair.

The slave was a tanned, muscled man, in the prime of his youth. The buzz cut suggested the military, as well as the discipline slave showed kneeling.

When the judge sat on the chair, the naked man crawled under the judge's robes and greedily began to such and lick.

The bailiff was stuck for a sudden flash of jealousy. It should be him under there. But he had his own role to play here.

Somewhere from his robe, the judge took out two items. an hourglass, and the judge's hammer.

The banging of the hammer echoed loudly in the courtroom. The bailiff's mouth dried in anticipation. They were about to begin.

"Bring in the defendant," the judge said, almost appearing to ignore the nude man's efforts at pleasing him.

Only then did the bailiff notice that there was a cage in the back. He went and dragged a young man in a schoolboy outfit, short pants, and a short-sleeved shirt. He was not of schoolboy age, despite what he was wearing, but he was not that much older. College, maybe a postgrad at best.

Still, with his delicate features, wavy medium-black hair, and slender build he was quite cute.

By the de neck the bailiff dragged the squirming defendant to the stand.

"How do you plead?" the judge sternly asked.

The bailiff watched the defendant sweat with a predatory gaze. He did not know what would be coming next but knew it would be good.

"For what? What am I doing here?" the defendant confusedly replied.

"How do you plead?" the judge asked again, his gaze pinning the defendant like a hawk to a plump little rabbit.

"Not... guilty…" the defendant muttered.

"I pronounce you innocent," the judge said. The sadist waited for just enough for defended to relax and then thundered. "And thus, guilty of wasting my time."

"What?" the defendant cried out.

"Bailiff! Gag the defendant!" the judge cried out.

With a hungry grin, the bailiff took a ball gag out of one of the pockets in his very tight pants. The defendant defiantly closed his mouth, but the bailiff grabbed the younger man between his legs and squeezed. By the hardness the bailing felt in the faux schoolboy pants, he knew that the other man was as not unwilling as he seemed.

As soon the defendant opened his mouth, in scram as his balls were violently crushed, the bailiff forced the ball gag in.

"Strip him," the judge ordered.

More the happy to comply. The schoolboy uniform tore as it was made of paper, and the defendant's struggles were feeble at best.

Piece by piece, the piece of pale white shin was shown. The bailiff liked white boys best, their shin showed bruises so well. Stripped of his covering the bailiff could see that his victim was pale and skinny, as he had never even hit a gym. He did have a nice bubble butt, and while his cock was a bit smaller than average, it was both shaved and hard. The bailing run one of his fingers over the defendant's cockhead, smearing it with leaking precum, and brought the same finger to his mouth.

He savored the taste. Warm and salty. Just as he liked it.

"For speaking out of turn, I sentence you twenty strikes by tawse," the judge declared, "Bailiff, carry out the sentence."

The bailiff pushed down the defendant, beading him over the stand.

He gazed at his victim's exposed butt, then kicked at the younger man's slim legs apart, "Spread them. More."

The globes parted showing what lay between, the defenseless crack.

"One," the bailiff said as he swung the tawse that was suddenly in his hand with all of his considerable might.

It hit the target perfectly, covering the rich check with a few tails sliding into the crack, one even hitting the pucker. The bailiff licked his lips. There was nothing like fucking well-bruised hole.

"Two." Now the left cheek.

"Three." Right again. The red was vivid on pale skin.

"Four." The younger man's fingers were white from his hard grip on the railing of the stand.

By seven, the boy's knees were trembling from the effort to keep in position.

By ten he was sobbing. Soft whimpers, muffled by the ball gag.

By fifteen, his raven hair was slick with sweat.

"… twenty."

The officer stood to admire his work. The once-white bubble butt was completely red, but there puddle between the boy's legs. Not piss more precum. He was leasing as a hose.

"And for the worse crime of being innocent, I sentence you to hard dry fuck," the judge's declared, "Bailiff, carry out the sentence."

As the cold air his cock, the older man could not but feel relief. Free at last.

But he did plan to leave his cock exposed to air for long. Because ring in from him the bent boy's defenseless red ass looked so inviting.

With a violent thrust, he pushed right in.

In and out. He pumped like a piston, but soon sobs were replaced by different kinds of moans.

He was too preoccupied. to notice, as the single gain of sand fell upwards in the hourglass on the judge's desk.