Peter Duffy knocked gently on the door to Adele’s office. It was nearly midnight and the law office was devoid of staff. Celia was at her monthly dinner date with her mother, a chore she hated but tolerated. It meant staying overnight or driving for three hours to get back home and as Celia required at least two cocktails before dinner and a half-bottle of Shiraz with dinner just to get through the ordeal, driving home was out of the question. Adele had received a memo from the Partners directing her to pursue a settlement or drop the case. She intended to do neither but she couldn't say so, so she was drafting a response to them full of legalise mumbo-jumbo to buy more time. The case wouldn't run for more than three more days.

“Burning the midnight oil?” Peter leaned through the door and smiled at Adele.

She was once again struck by how stunningly handsome he was. His suit jacket was casually thrown over his shoulder, he had removed his tie.

Adele didn’t know this because she was too engrossed in her work, but Peter had been standing at her open door watching her for a while. He smiled when she raked her fingers through her tousled brunette hair or chewed on the end of her pen, her full red lips worrying the implement. At one stage she thrust out a long, diaphanous nyloned leg from under her desk and rubbed the back of her knee, her red fingernails rasping softly on her stockings.

Just watching her made him hard.

“I could say the same for you. What brings you here so late in the day?” Adele looked up at him from behind her desk.

“I had a business meeting with Alan Tate that just kept running on. Boring stuff really. Nothing like the case you are trying,” Peter smiled at her.

Adele did not invite him into her office and Peter was too much of a gentleman to enter without invitation.

“Alan has just left the building and I needed to use the facilities before I left. I saw light coming from your office so I thought I’d come over and say hello,” Peter’s smile was engaging.

“So you left Alan’s office needing a piss and instead of using the Partner’s pisser right across the hall from Alan’s office, you worked your way through all of the junior Associates and paralegals desks to use the crapper farthest from the elevators where I assume you are heading next?” Adele chewed the end of her pen and Peter couldn’t take his eyes off her lips.

“Ok I lied. I asked Alan if you were still working and he told me where your office was. Are we always going to be combative now that I’ve signed up to your firm?” Peter was still smiling.

Adele’s face filled with storm clouds and Peter suddenly realised what he had unintentionally implied.

“So you’re saying that I threw you a fuck so would take bring your business here and now I don’t want anything to do with you?” Adele pushed herself out from behind her desk and stood.

“I’m implying no such thing. That came out all wrong and I apologise,” Peter’s confidence was gone, his shoulders slouched.

Adele stood defiantly with her hands on her hips. She was wearing a dark mauve business suit, her jacket was open and her breasts pushed against her white silk blouse, the bottom of her jacket was level with the hem of her short skirt. Her long legs, planted defiantly apart, were sheathed in coffee-coloured gossamer nylon, and her feet were shod in black four-inch heeled Louboutin's.

Her suit was wrinkled from a long day’s work, she had a runner in one of her stockings, her makeup was smudged where she had rubbed her eyes and her red lipstick was smeared. Even looking dishevelled as she did with her unkempt hair she looked gorgeous, her dishevelled appearance somehow making her look even sexier than usual.

“I told you when we fucked that it was going to be a one night stand so why are you here?” Adele glared at him.

“Ok I’m sorry. I just wanted to see you again. I think that you’re an amazing person and I enjoyed your company so much at dinner I was hoping we could maybe do it again,” Peter sighed.

Adele smiled. She liked it when she made powerful men be contrite with her.

“And the after dinner part?” Adele raised her eyebrows, a little amused.

“Well that was wonderful too but I know it’s never going to happen again,” Peter replied.

Adele relaxed and leaned back against her desk and rubbed her aching neck.

“Sorry for being a bitch; I seem to make that a habit with you. Come in and have a drink before we go home,” Adele pointed the small wet bar in the corner of her office.

Peter grinned and entered the office; he hung his coat on the rack by the door. Adele realised the connotation that could be read into what she just said.

“I meant when we both go home to our own apartments, alone,” she grinned back at him.

“Scotch, rocks, please,” she said when he looked at her quizzically.

Adele sat down on the small couch and took off her high heels, her feet were numb from wearing them all day but she had been sitting for so long that she didn’t realise how numb until she stood up.

Peter put the drinks on the coffee table and sat down beside her.

“May I?” Peter asked, smiling at her as he lifted her feet into his lap.

Adele was going to admonish him but then he began to massage her feet and all was forgiven. It felt wonderful. She lay back with her head on the armrest and sighed.

“Gimme,” Adele held out her hand and wiggled her fingers like a petulant child.

Peter teased her little, holding the drink out of reach as she went to grasp it. Adele pouted like a little girl. Peter liked this playful side to her; he relented and gave Adele her drink.

“Now you can go back to rubbing my feet,” Adele grinned at him.

“They’re smelly,” Peter joked.

“Bullshit! I’ve had men beg to suck my feet after a full day’s work. I have one particular man who loves my feet so much that he takes my pantyhose with him when he leaves,” Adele waggled her toes.

“What man? Is he the one you are in long term relationship with? The man that you love?” Peter sounded jealous.

“Let’s just say it’s complicated and leave it at that. Now… you can keep massaging my feet as payment for my scotch and my company,” Adele wiggled her feet in Peter’s lap.

She could feel the hard lump of his erection and moved her feet down on his thigh away from it.

Peter worked his fingers into Adele’s toes, delighting in the feel of her slippery nylons against his fingers. Adele sighed and sipped her scotch. Lying back on the couch with her head on the armrest, her skirt rode up high on her legs and Peter had an interrupted view of her firm thighs and the red satin panties that she wore over her pantyhose.

He moved his fingers to Adele’s ankles and she didn’t complain so he worked on those for a while, watching the little wrinkles he made in her coffee-coloured nylons as he massaged her. Adele finished her scotch and put the glass down on the floor and closed her eyes.

“Mmm, that’s wonderful,” she mewed, her voice thick with sleep.

Peter continued to look up her skirt, his cock throbbing in his pants. He tried his luck and moved to her calves, stroking them softly at first and then kneading them with his long fingers. He kept this up until he thought Adele was asleep, her breathing was soft and slow. He caressed the skin on the back of her knees, once again fascinated by the little crinkles that he created in her stockings as he rubbed her smooth flesh. His cock was uncomfortably hard and he really wanted to reposition it but he didn’t want to remove his hands from Adele’s legs.

When his hands slid up her thighs he expected her to rebuke him but she just murmured something unintelligible. He stroked her thighs, working his hands slowly up her legs, following the runner in her stocking.

He was surprised when Adele put her feet back in his lap. A smile formed on her face as she rubbed her toes on his erect penis through the fabric of his trousers.

“I thought…” he began to speak but Adele silenced him.

“Shush! Let’s just enjoy the quiet intimacy of the moment shall we?” Adele whispered.

Peter smiled and continued to worship Adele’s legs with his hands. Her skirt had ridden right up to her waist and he could see the darker fabric of the pantyhose gusset under her red satin panties, he drew in a breath and slid his finger across the front of her panties.

“Mmm,” Adele moaned.

Emboldened, he lifted her feet briefly and freed his cock from his pants. Adele put her stocking-sheathed feet around his penis and squeezed.

It was Peter’s turn to moan.

Adele moved Peter’s hand away from her crotch and snaked a hand inside the waistband of her pantyhose. She untucked herself and Peter was amazed when the smooth V of her panties suddenly developed a bulge as her scrotum swelled with her testes and her penis appeared from its hiding place along her perineum. She took away her hand and the glans of her semi-erect cock peeked above the waistband of her panties, a little wet stain burgeoned in her pantyhose as she started to leak.

Peter was fascinated and he placed a fingertip in the splotch of clear pre-ejaculated and rubbed her fraenulum with the pad of his finger through the translucent nylon.

Adele shuddered and then she slowly began to wank his cock with her stockinged feet. Peter purred; he eased down Adele’s panties so he could see the girth of her long thick cock swaddled in the dark pantyhose. He gripped her shaft and began to reciprocate the pleasure she was giving him. More precum dribbled from the eye of her penis as he slowly but firmly stroked her nylon-swathed cock.

Adele pressed her heels and toes together, making a tight silken channel to encase Peter’s cock. She worked her feet up and down and she smiled when she felt her nylons dampen with his pre-seminal fluid. They were both leaking.

The quiet office filled with the muffled sounds of their lust-filled moans and groans as Peter and Adele masturbated each other through the diaphanous shrouds of her nylons. Electric sparks of deliciousness emanated from their respective throbbing members.

Adele turned her face to the padded armrest and muffled her cries as she orgasmed. A puddle of creamy sperm erupted through the gusset of her pantyhose as she writhed and wriggled on the couch. The sight of this triggered Peter’s climax and Adele felt his scalding seed splash onto her feet and legs. Peter bit his lip to stifle his moans as Adele’s silken-sheathed feet expressed more of his issue which spewed from his manhood in a series of long ropy spurts.

They massaged each other’s cocks until their cocks began to droop and the rubbing become abrasive.

“There are tissues in my handbag. Do not get any semen on this suit!” Adele said authoritatively.

Peter felt quite the twit as he took Adele’s feet and laid them on the couch and duck waddled with his cock sticking out of his pants to get her handbag off the desk. He rummaged in her bag and found the tissues and dabbed at his cock before putting it away. Then he sat beside her and swabbed at the thick pool of semen that had formed in her pantyhose gusset, then he took more tissues and daubed at the sticky mess he had made on her feet and legs.

“Thank you. You are gentleman,” she chuckled as she arched her back and pulled off her panties and then her pantyhose.

She took more tissues and wiped herself dry.

“Not very ladylike I’m afraid,” she said dryly as she went to her desk drawer for a new package of pantyhose.

“Be a sweetheart and pour me another drink,” Adele kissed Peter on the cheek.

Adele had no inhibitions as she dropped her skirt, stepped into a pair of flesh-toned pantyhose and tucked herself. She smoothed out the nylons along her legs, stopped to take a sip of her drink and then stepped into her panties. She put on her skirt and adjusted it.

Peter had gathered together all the sticky tissues and was looking around for somewhere to dispose of them.

“Take them down to the bathroom and flush them please. Take these too. You can bin them or keep them. Some men seem to like collecting them for some reason,” she handed him her cum-soaked pantyhose and her blue eyes twinkled with mischief.

When Peter came back Adele had packed up and was standing by her office door ready to leave. She had her handbag over her shoulder; a file in one hand and his coat in the other.

“Give me a couple of minutes and then take the next elevator. I know it’s after midnight but I don’t want anyone seeing us leaving together and that includes the security guys,” Adele said, handing him his jacket.

“Can I see you again?” Peter called out as she started to walk away.

“Not like this,” she said over her shoulder.

“That’s what you said last time,” Peter called after her, appreciating the swing of her hips and the swagger of her buttocks.

“Thank you for the pictures. They came in real handy at the trial today,” she called out and kept walking.

*****

The twenty-four hour news cycle fed on stories like the Melody Summers case. Was she a pretty young girl who was forced into prostitution or was she a scheming witch trying to take four innocent men for a substantial sum of money?

Her picture appeared everywhere; there were rumours that ten thousand dollars had been offered for any of the pictures that had been shown in court. Television news shows held debates, phone-ins and online polls: 'was Melody Summers telling the truth?'

Adele and Celia wore satin negligees to breakfast and nothing else; Celia's was black of course. They had both failed to remove their makeup before they went to bed and they poked fun at each other about panda-eyes.

Adele was reading a newspaper chewing on toast while Celia sipped coffee and concentrated on her tablet.

Adele poked Celia with her toe under the table.

"What do you think? Is conventional wisdom for us or against us?" she asked around a mouthful of bread.

"I think that ladies who talk with their mouths full have bad manners," Celia looked up from her tablet reproachfully.

"You didn't say that last night," Adele smiled at her.

Celia poked Adele back with her toe and gave her a reproachful frown.

"Seriously, what do you think?" Adele finished her toast and reached for coffee.

"I think we are about fifty-fifty in the court of public opinion which is better than expected given that our sweet little darling turned out to be a high class hooker," Celia replied.

"And Millicent Ford, the forewoman of the jury; she looked like she wanted to get out of her chair and give Melody a good spanking when it was revealed that Melody was a prostitute," Celia sighed.

"Yeah well… have we ever had a client who hasn’t lied to us?" Adele got up and padded around to Celia's side of the table and rubbed her shoulders.

Celia laid her head on Adele's hand.

"You can stop doing that in about an hour," she purred.

"Sorry honey, we need to get ready for court. It's John Murray's big day," Adele leaned down and kissed Celia's cheek.

Adele and Celia had fired their guns and rested their case. It was John Murray's turn to offer a defence.

Surprisingly he called Mitchell Brooks to the stand. Defendants rarely took the stand in criminal trials but they often did in civil litigation, but given that it meant that Mitchell Brooks would be exposed to a cross-examination she found it surprising. Adele was caught unprepared. She and Celia opened fresh legal pads and began to write.

"Are you Mitchell Brooks, currently CEO of the company known as the Dalton Corporation a subsidiary of Brindle Holdings?" John Murray began his defence.

Mitchell confirmed such.

"Did Miss Melody Summers tell the court the truth about the events that occurred at the cocktail party at the Beaumont Hotel on the evening of May twelfth, 2018?" John got straight to the point.

"Not much of her story is true. The four of us had sex with her that's for sure. She liked it and so she should have. Brian, Peter, Danny and I pitched in one thousand dollars each for her services," Mitchell glanced across at the plaintiff's table.

"He's lying!" Melody hissed.

Celia squeezed her hand.

"We'll get to cross examine him soon enough, just sit still and keep your head high, don't show any emotion," Celia whispered in melody's ear.

"You paid Miss Summers four thousand dollars to have sex with the four of you?" John leaned in towards his client.

"Cash on the barrel. She did me first on my own because I wanted it that way and she was sweet on me, then the other guys joined in," Mitchell explained.

"And she was a willing participant?" John asked.

"She loved it; I tipped her five hundred dollars before she left because we ripped her dress," Mitchell folded his arms.

"So why do you think she has made these accusations?" John was on a roll.

"Objection your honour; calls for speculation," Adele was quick to get to her feet.

"In criminal court yes, but this is a civil a matter. I'll allow the question," the judge answered.

"Well the first thing I thought of was money of course; she wants a settlement. But I also think that doing the group-sex thing turns some women on but then they feel guilty afterwards. We've hired many girls to do this kind a thing in the past and a few of them have tried to squeeze us after," Mitchell replied.

"It's like they want revenge to make themselves feel better for something they are ashamed of doing," Mitchell looked at Adele and sneered.

"So to clarify; your testimony is that you hired Miss Summers, paid for her services and now she is trying to extort money from you and the other three defendants?" John Murray summarised Mitchell's testimony.

"No more questions," John walked back to his table.

Adele was on her feet lightning quick.

"So you and your friends didn't hold Melody Summers down and force yourself on her like we have seen in the pictures presented to the court?" Adele began.

"Sure we did. She liked it. She wanted it," Mitchell sniggered.

"You're telling me that a woman likes to be forced to have sex with a group of men?" Adele asked trying to drive home her point.

"Some do. You sure did. Remember in college you moaned like a whore when I fucked you," Mitchell Brooks said viciously.

Adele just stood there stunned.

"Objection! Objection!" Celia was screaming at the judge.

Once again the court erupted and the judge rapped his gavel repeatedly until the court came to order.

"Counsel. Chambers. Now!" the judge adjourned the court and stormed angrily from the bench.

"What the fuck is going on in my court? Did you coach your client to say what he did about Ms Edwards?" the judge was red-faced.

"No your honour. I had no idea that Ms Edwards and my clients had a previous relationship," John Murray tried to lie some of the blame on Adele.

"I would hardly call being forced to have sex with four strangers my fault. It just so happens that they also happen to be the same men who assaulted Melody Summers," Adele fired back.

Celia winced. Adele should have kept her mouth shut; made John Murray defend his clients actions, not confirm that what Mitchell Brooks said was the truth.

"Are you claiming that the four defendants attacked you when you were in college?" the judge was incredulous.

"I'm going out into the courtroom and declaring a mistrial," the judge slammed the palm of his hand down on the table.

"What for?" Adele barked at him.

"What for? Because the lead counsel for the plaintiff has been accused of using her client to get revenge for an incident that she claims happened nearly sixteen years ago in college; that's what for," the judge yelled back at her.

"What if I was prepared to take the stand?" Adele said meekly.

"What?" the judge was dumbfounded.

"Not a chance. Too prejudicial and I've never heard of such a thing," the judge growled.

"There is precedence your honour. I can file a motion for you today," Adele countered.

"No way. I'm dismissing the case, your associate can re-file it with the court Ms Edwards, but you are no longer trying this case," The judge arose, ready to leave chambers.

"Hey wait on judge," John Murray had been thinking.

"You're going to make my clients go through all of this again? That will be the third time that they will be tried for something they claim they are innocent of. If Ms Edwards is willing to relinquish the trail to Ms Bettany and recuse herself from representing Miss Summers I'd like the trail to proceed. I think I've got this case won already," John Murray proposed.

"I'll do it!" Adele snapped back.

"Hold on you two; I'm the decision maker here," the Judge rubbed his chin.

"Ms Bettany; are you prepared to take over from Ms Edwards? Can you offer your client fair and reasonable counsel?" the judge asked Celia.

"I can your honour. Ms Edwards and I have worked on this case together day and night," Celia said a little too enthusiastically.

"I bet you have," John Murray gave them both a lecherous look.

The remark flew over the judge's head.

"Ms Edwards, you are recused from counsel. Ms Bettany, you are no longer second chair; welcome to the big leagues," the judge heaved himself out of his chair and ushered everyone out of his chambers.

The judge bought the court to order and explained that Adele Edwards had been recused from representing Melody Summers.

"Miss Summers; are you prepared to continue your suit whilst being represented by Miss Bettany?" the judge asked.

"I am your honour; I have faith in her," Melody replied.

Adele was sitting in the court behind the plaintiff's table and was on the receiving end of a reproachful glare from Millicent Ford.

"The court is adjourned until nine o'clock tomorrow to allow Miss Bettany to prepare and for all of us to regroup," the judge rapped his gavel.

*****

"The defence may continue," the judge rapped his gavel when court began the next day.

"The defence calls Adele Edwards to the stand," John Murray swivelled in his seat and glared at Adele.

"Objection your honour. Ms Edwards is no longer party to these proceedings," Celia glared back at John Edwards.

"On the contrary your honour. Adele Edwards is a material witness to what these men claim is just fun, what they call, I beg the court's pardon, a gangbang. Let's hear about her experience and she can either corroborate or rebut Miss Summers’ experiences," John Murray challenged.

Adele was up and through the gate heading for the witness chair before the judge even ruled.

"Well it looks like Miss Edwards has no personal objection so let's see where this leads us," the Judge sat back in his chair.

“Please state your full name for the record,” John Murray began.

“Adele Edwards,” Adele replied.

“Has your name always been Adele?” John asked.

Celia Bettany was on her feet lightning-fast to object.

“Withdrawn. Ms Edwards what gender are you?" John gave Adele a steely glare.

"Objection your honour; relevance?" Celia was on her feet.

Judge Karl Brinkman knew that Adele was transgender as did some in the gallery but her celebrity had faded over the years so it was not that well known generally. There was almost certain to be members of the jury that did not know that she was transgender and who were likely to be prejudiced.

"I'll allow it but get to the point quickly counsellor," Judge Brinkman barked.

"I'm a woman. Female. It says so on my driver's licence and on my passport," Adele held her head up high.

"And on your birth certificate?" John Murray was getting to the point he wanted to make.

"Withdrawn. On the birth certificate issued when you were born?" he grinned at Adele.

"Perhaps it will help the court and the counsellor if I get directly to where Mr Murray would like to take us. I was born a male but was gender dysphoric during my childhood and teens. I began my legal transition to become a woman in 2003 and legally became a woman in 2005," Adele looked directly at the jury.

"But your case is somewhat unique is it not? You are one of very few transgendered women who have been legally accepted as a woman without have proof of irreversible sex change surgery?" John raised his brow.

Celia Bettany was immediately on her feet.

"I'll get to relevance in my next question your honour," John did not allow Celia to object.

"So you were still a boy, well a young man actually, when these pictures were taken of you in your first year at college?" John used his clicker.

Adele was sitting on the bed in her dormitory dressed in a leather miniskirt, white satin blouse, sheer taupe pantyhose, and black high heels. She was wearing heavy makeup, a platinum-blonde shoulder-length wig and cheap costume jewellery.

Adele shuddered as she remembered the four men entering her room. This would have been the first of many pictures that they took that night. She was prepared for this line of questioning as much as she could be.

"Yes. As I said I was gender dysphoric and at that time dressing as a woman was comforting, it made me feel like who I really wanted to be," Adele answered.

The bailiff was passing stills of the images being displayed on the screens to jury. The audience in the courthouse was leaning forward to gawk at the screens.

"And here. Did you find this comforting," John grinned.

Adele was in the arms of Mitchell brooks and he was kissing her. In the picture, it looked like she was reciprocating. In addition, this, and this, and this…" John Murray shuffled through a series of images depicting Adele having sex with the four men.

"That's a fine selection counsellor. All those pictures are carefully selected by you to make it look like I was a willing participant," Adele replied.

"So you claim you were unwilling?" John smiled at her.

"I was passive. I didn't want to get hurt so I did what they made me do," Adele countered.

"Made you do? What about these," John showed a selection of pictures that clearly showed Adele had an erection.

"Counsellor, the plaintiff's expert witness has stipulated…" Celia was cut off by John Murray.

"That it is possible for a woman or a man to experience sexual gratification even if the act is against their consent," he completed her answer for her.

"So you do know my clients Daniel Benstead, Brian Stetford, Peter Grady, and Mitchell Brooks and you knew them in college, before you became a lawyer. Yes or no answers to my next few questions if you will Ms Edwards," John Murray was on a roll.

"Yes," Adele replied.

"You had sex with them in your dormitory at college, allegedly without your consent correct?" John continued.

"Yes," Adele replied.

"But you never made a complaint at the time?" John glared at Adele.

"Well I was scared that they would expose me. I wasn't out as a trans-woman," Adele stammered.

"So you chose to remain an anonymous crossdresser rather than seek justice for what, according to you, was four men using your body for sexual gratification against your will?" John's voice was getting louder.

Celia wanted to object but Adele glared at her from the witness stand. They knew that this line of questioning was coming.

"Yes. But it was not that simple," Adele replied.

"Oh and I forgot to add that during the so called attack you managed to achieve sexual gratification yourself, possibly here," John clicked his clicker.

Adele lay underneath John Murray, her arms embracing him and legs locked around his waist.

Adele did not answer; she bowed her head.

"Let's move onto some less distasteful testimony," John Murray blanked the screens with his clicker but the damage had been done.

"When did you hear that my clients had been found not guilty in the sexual assault case against Miss Melody Summers?" John Murray changed tack.

"I read about it in the newspapers the day after the trial; but Miss Summers was never named. Her name was suppressed by court order," Adele replied.

"Exactly Ms Edwards. So you must have made some effort to track Miss Summers down; or did she come to you and propose civil litigation?" John was on a roll.

"I found her and suggested that we might have a case. That although she had lost in the criminal justice system, perhaps I could get her compensation through litigation," Adele replied coolly.

"Exactly," John grinned.

"So my final question to you is this?"

"Did you bring this frivolous and vexatious law suit against my clients as a means of taking revenge for something that you claim happened fifteen years ago, but was never reported at the time or since?" John finished triumphantly.

Celia shouted her objections over the ramblings of the audience in the courthouse while the judge repeatedly banged his gavel.

The court was finally quiet.

"Withdrawn," John smugly returned to his seat.

*****

After a short comfort break the trial continued.

"Please state your full name for the record," John Murray began.

Roy was sitting in the witness chair looking every bit the urban cowboy. Stylised western shirt, denim jeans and jacket, cowboy boots, he was even wearing a bolo necktie. He had that cocksure grin on his face.

"Arnold Duncan Phyton Chesworth," he replied and blushed.

Adele guffawed. If was incongruous that her cowboy lover had a name befitting a Wall Street banker.

"Mister Chesworth is this you?" John used his favourite toy to bring onto the screens the online ad for Executive Encounters featuring the image of a shirtless handsome and tanned and muscular young man wearing a Stetson, jeans and cowboy boots.

"Are you Roy?" he continued.

"That's the name I work under yes and that is indeed me," he said proudly, smiling at the court.

"And do you indeed swing both ways as the caption reads?" John asked.

"Yes I do. But only for money," Roy said a little sheepishly.

"And swinging both ways means?" John leaned into his witness.

"It means I can top or bottom, pitch or catch, give or receive…" he answered before John cut him off.

"So you are a bisexual man who can play both roles in bed?" John said for clarification.

"Only for money," Roy clarified further.

"Do you know the woman who was previously counsellor for the plaintiff, Ms Adele Edwards?" John was getting to the point.

"Yes sir I do," Roy replied.

"In what capacity?" John asked.

"She's a client," Roy replied curtly.

"She uses your services… for sex?" John was grinning.

"We can stop this," Celia turned and hissed at Adele.

"No let him go on. He'll only introduce financial records to prove that I use Roy's services if you object," Adele explained.

"Yes sir she does," Roy replied.

"How often?" John smiled.

"About once a week. When the mood takes her," Roy replied casually.

"What specifically does she get you to do? Does she like to be humiliated? Does she like to be restrained or held down while you have sex?" John asked smugly.

There was a pause as both judge and defence counsel expected an objection but none was forthcoming.

"No sir, we just make love the usual way," Roy replied.

"And does she like to go both ways? Does she like to pitch it to you?" John was a little irritated with Roy's previous response.

Adele had to physically hold Celia in her seat because she was so hot to object.

"No sir she does not. She's a beautiful feminine woman who is a gentle and a considerate lover and I treat her that way. I only ever make love to her like she is a lady because that is what she is," Roy replied.

John was seething; this was not the answer he was expecting; not the answer that they had rehearsed during witness preparations yesterday.

"But you said… Strike that!" John Murray's line of questioning was derailed.

"Do you know Melody Summers?" John changed tack.

"Only from the TV and the papers," Roy grinned at John Murray who was now infuriated.

"Because you work at the same agency, did Ms Edwards ever ask you about Melody Summers?" John took a deep breath.

"Which question do you want me to answer counsellor? That I did not know that Ms Summers worked at the same agency as me or that Ms Edwards never asked me about Melody Summers," Roy said indignantly.

"Ms Edwards never asked you if Melody Summers was employed by Executive Encounters or asked you where she could find Miss Summers?" John's frustration with his witness was evident.

"Asked and answered!" the judge interjected before Celia could even object.

All that John had proved was that Adele had used a male prostitute on occasion. His attempts to prove that Adele already knew that Melody Summers was a callgirl before the case began or that she had tried to find Melody through the agency to solicit her to sue had been debunked. His half-hearted attempt to prove that Adele liked rough sex had also failed.

"I'm finished with this witness," John stormed over to the defence table.

"You know what to ask," Adele said to Celia as she rose to cross.

"Mr Chesworth; how much did the defendants counsel pay you to testify today?" Celia asked succinctly.

"Objection!" John Murray leapt from his chair, his face red.

"Well they paid me fifty thousand dollars ma'am," Roy gave Celia a beatific smile.

"The witness will remain silent until I have ruled on the objection!" Judge Brinkman was furious.

"Withdrawn your honour," Celia swept her skirt under her as she sat.

John Murray shook his head and took his seat.

"Sorry," Roy mouthed silently to Adele as he walked past her.

She just gave him a wan smile. Adele was pragmatic; Roy was a prostitute after all, he did what he had to for money.

*****
The case went viral in every form of media. A beautiful sophisticated trans-woman lawyer defending a pretty sex worker, both of whom claimed to have been sexually abused by four prominent businessmen was fodder for the news services and in the blogosphere. Everyone had an opinion.

To be continued