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“All rise. Family Court Division D is now in session, the Honorable Nancy G. Moore presiding. Case of Mulhouse vs. Mulhouse, petition for divorce on the basis of irreconcilable differences. Counter petition by defendant on the basis of marital infidelity,” the bailiff announced just as we entered the courtroom.
“Your Honor, I object!” I deliberately called attention to myself now, along with my naked crew.
“Whoever you are, you are out of order, both as to the process and as to your state of undress. Leave immediately or I will hold you in contempt of court!” the trial judge snapped at me while gaveling to regain control of the court in vain.
“Oh, but haven’t you earned that contempt, Your Dishonor? For isn’t it very dishonorable to award such a huge portion of a man’s hard-earned savings to his ex, just because she happens to be a woman? Why is that when a man cheats, he’s at fault, but when a woman cheats, he’s still at fault? For a system labeled ‘no-fault,’ it sure doesn’t behave like one. The man is always given the shaft, regardless of blame.
“On the other hand, Mr. Mulhouse, divorce isn’t really the best tool you have for dealing and coping with your wife’s indiscretions, is it? Haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em?’ I think that I can resolve this matter far more effectively than any civil servant or officer of the court. You just need to trust me and my ... shall we say, judgment? What you need is a new ... arrangement in your marriage, one where both of you benefit from some side action, some strange booty.
“As for you, Mrs. Mulhouse, you’re also going about this all the wrong way. He won’t simply stay married to you on your personal terms, so you kick him to the curb and try to rape him in court, to take him to the cleaners, as they call it? No, no, if I had been advising both of you all along, I would have counseled you to strike a bargain, make a deal, a new pact between the two of you as well as your paramours.
“So, here’s the deal, my friends. It’s all adults here in court right now, so we’re going to set down a new covenant in your marriage, sealing it with an orgy ... on MY terms. Oh, you don’t know who I am yet. But you will. You will know who I AM!” I let my eyes flash with the brightness of several suns as my skin and appearance changed to translucent.
“Who are you, again?” the judge demanded, “how dare you barge into my courtroom and dictate to me and the litigants?”
“I already told you who I AM!” I caused the woman to piss herself under her robes as she gazed upon me and then averted her eyes.
“Who ARE you?” the plaintiff’s lawyer foolishly repeated the query.
“As I just told you and the rest of the court, I AM!” I blasted her with incredible heat, along with the trial judge now.
Both were cooked alive within seconds, yet the bench wasn’t damaged at all.
I had to make examples out of both of them for not getting the point. The defense counsel was less obtuse. He quickly deduced my meaning, falling upon his face in front of me, bowing in my sacred presence. It wasn’t every day that one encountered the Almighty.
“God, is that You?” he asked me through chattery teeth.
“Yes, but don’t be so damn formal. Call me ... Leviathan. Yes, I am the Lord God of Heaven. I am the King of Heaven. I am the Master of the Universe. I am El Shaddai. I am Adonai. I AM THAT I AM! As you can see, I don’t appreciate arrogant defiance and insolence from mere mortals like the judge and the plaintiff’s attorney.
“I also don’t appreciate this current system of family law. It is so patently unfair to men. So much for gender equality, if the women get special privileges and no accountability or obligations at all. That reduces men to second-class citizens, the first class being reserved for the female half of the populace. Equal rights should bring equal duties, not fewer ones.
“Women have tried to have their chivalry and equality both at once, to have their cake and eat it, too. No more of that rubbish. You can’t say that men and women are equal, but then say that women are more equal than men. That has to stop. No wonder men refuse to wed these days. It’s a really reckless gamble with their finances, hoping that they are the half of men who don’t lose their shirts in a divorce.
“No more of that. Here’s my judgment, which we will seal shortly with a proper clusterfuck. You two will not divorce. You will remain man and wife and you will both have the freedom to pursue extramarital affairs as you wish. You will have to disclose them to each other, of course, but you will have a fully open marriage. No restrictions beyond basic common sense, proper legality, and simple human decency.
“Furthermore, to protect both of you, there will be a postnuptial agreement between you and your assets will be better partitioned as well as disclosed. Some property will remain joint and marital, but the majority will be personal instead. You will have one joint-bank account, and then two separate bank accounts. Your pay will go into the latter, each of you, and a percentage of each will be transferred to the joint-bank account.
“This will become a model case for the future of matrimony, if you ask me. It will also take the pressure off in so many ways. If you choose to withhold sexual favors to manipulate each other, for instance, it risks backfiring due to competition. Neither of you will have that kind of unfair economic or sexual leverage over the other, ever again. I will continue the process of disrupting the existing balance of family law until true harmony and justice are restored.
“Now, any questions or objections? Because if I have to roast someone else, I’d rather get it out of the way,” I smiled savagely in a manner truly awed and terrified everyone present.
“No ... sir,” the court reporter dared to speak up now, while the bailiff coughed and awaited my pleasure.
“Chrissy, wasn’t it? Chrissy Dunbar. Stand up, Chrissy, raise your skirt, and slide your panties down to your ankles. Yes, that’s good. Now, put your hands on your desk and stay put. I have to seal you first, of course. As mine. Once you are sealed, you are perfectly safe as long as I wish you to be,” I instructed Chrissy before I indeed sealed her as mine.
Chrissy absolutely belonged in my harem, as did the Mulhouses, but they were far from the only ones. I slid into Chrissy from behind and started fucking her in earnest, my hands rubbing her sweet, sleek bum as I plowed her juicy gash. I even began pulling her long, luscious locks of hair as I rammed her good and rough from the back. My other hand now wandered over to her butthole and eased a finger past her puckered ring.
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