by Doctor MC
“Oh my smoke, oh my smoke, Jerngert froze,” Fatima kept saying.
Fatima’s lightball danced in the air, forgotten.
Chapter 38
I Warn; Paula Plots
THE REST OF MONDAY
Monday, 3:38 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time, 11:38 a.m. Alaskan Daylight Time
Fatima had pretty much cried herself out when there was a knock at my bedroom door. “Marvin sir?” said Almira or Elvira through the door.
Fatima green-smoked her face, then de-smoked it, which made her eyes not red or puffy anymore. She vanished the green lightball, then nodded at the door.
I unlocked and opened the door. It was Almira, who told me, “Mom’s lawyer is at the gate, demanding to see Elvie and me. She’s been bugging us since ten this morning. But we told her we won’t let her in till you’re home from school.”
I said, “Wow, Almira, I’m really pleased, you not letting her in before now.”
Almira beamed.
I continued, “Being as A, I’m a Testosterone Person, and B, I’m a prosecution witness, she could really have made trouble for me if she’d had the run of the place. You done good.”
Almira beamed again.
Fatima said, “Master, may I handle this?” Almira looked startled, hearing Fatima’s voice.
I nodded. “Almira, let Fatima handle the gate intercom and the front door.”
Fatima then asked Almira, “Could you and your sister stay upstairs, or stay in the kitchen, till the lawyer and I come find you?”
“No problem,” Almira said, giving Fatima a smile (and me an even bigger smile).
Almira left. As I was making damned sure that the footlocker was locked, I asked Fatima, “What are you up to?”
She said, “You have a big problem to think about: Paula Sarin. Some parts of your problem, I’m forbidden to help you with. But you don’t need to also worry about a bunch of little problems caused by some ogress.”
Once we got downstairs, Fatima asked me, “Master, may I ask that you go to the computer room now? The lawyer and I will be there shortly.”
I made productive use of my time on the computer, deleting spam—do you have any idea how much spam a billionaire gets? About three minutes after I’d turned on the computer, Fatima and a woman in her forties walked into the computer room.
“...wiser than me,” the woman said in a monotone.
Fatima was stroking the back of a lawyer-hand. “Marvin Harper is a good man,” Fatima said. “He has a good reason for everything he does.”
“Marvin Harper is a good man. He has a good reason for everything he does,” the woman repeated dully.
“You trust Marvin Harper absolutely, always to keep his promises and never to lie to you.”
“I trust Marvin Harper absolutely, always to keep his promises and never to lie to me.”
The programming went on like that for another minute, then Fatima broke touch with the woman’s hand. The woman blinked, and seemed surprised to be in the computer room with me.
Fatima said, “This is Victoria Allblue, defense attorney for Almira and Elvira.”
Victoria smiled at me and took a step forward. “Mister Marvin Harper, I’m so glad to meet you! You’re not at all what I expected.” She was looking at me like I was a rock star.
I said, “Ah, so you recognize me. That’s good.”
When I said good, Victoria gasped.
I said, “So what did you expect me to be like?”
She blushed. “The twins’ mother had me convinced that you’re holding them prisoner.”
“But you no longer think that?”
“No. Because meeting you, I realize that you’re a good man, and you have a good reason for keeping them here.”
I smiled. “Michelle LeClerc is a lost cause, but at least you can be convinced of my good heart. That’s good.”
Victoria gasped again, and blinked.
I glanced at Fatima, whose smile showed mischief.
“So what are your plans here?” I asked Victoria.
“I shouldn’t tell you, because of attorney-client privilege, plus you’re a prosecution witness—”
“But?”
“But I’m going to meet with Almie and Elvie, and hope that they can tell me something about that night, or about them, or about you, that I can use to win an acquittal.”
“Victoria, I know it went against your lawyer ethics code to tell me that, but you did anyway. That’s good.”
Victoria quietly moaned for five seconds.
Then I frowned at her. “But an acquittal? They shouldn’t be acquitted, and as their lawyer, you shouldn’t get them acquitted. What you’re planning is bad.”
Fatima had done a good job. Victoria should have ripped my head off then; but instead she whimpered, then asked with worried face, “Why do you say I’m doing bad?”
I said, “Because Almira had crack cocaine in her purse, and Elvira had a latex glove in hers. Each of them admitted as much, and I saw the baggie when the cop opened Almira’s purse. They broke the law, so they should get jail. Keeping them out of jail is bad.”
Victoria whimpered again. Then she got as nervous as Oliver Twist asking for seconds on the gruel: “Would I—would I be a good lawyer if they pled guilty but got a suspended sentence?”
“Almira and Elvira need to stamp out at least one license plate, Victoria, or else I can’t believe that you’re serious about justice.”
“But is a plea bargain good?” she asked hopefully. “They plead guilty to a lesser charge, in return for lesser jail time?”
“Yes, a plea bargain shows you’re a sharp lawyer. I respect sharp lawyers.”
Victoria smiled with relief.
I continued, “Three years apiece in jail is a good minimum.”
Victoria quit smiling.
“But, um, Elvira too?” she asked me. “Almira had the drugs, Elvira was only the accessory before the fact.”
I said, “Those two are bookends. That night, it was only a coin-flip that the drugs were in Almira’s purse. Those two should walk into jail together and they should walk out together, no matter how much or little time they get. That might not be the law, but that’s justice.”
Victoria nodded like a student in lecture. “Okay, that’s how I’ll play it. No acquittal, identical sentences, three years minimum.”
I nodded. “You understand what justice requires, Victoria. That’s very good.”
For fifteen seconds or so, Victoria moaned and trembled. Then she opened her eyes and said, panting, “Mitchell will not like my sending her twins to jail.”
“Michelle. In my house, the twins’ mother is Michelle.”
“Yes, sir.” Victoria began twisting her fingers together, then she said, “Um, Marvin sir? Mitch—Michelle expects me not only to get her daughters acquitted, but to get the goods on you. So I can ‘sue him up the wazoo,’ to use her words.”
“Be honest: Were you planning to do that before you met me?”
“Honestly? Yes, I was planning to destroy you on the seven o’clock news. I figured that it would help my career.” Victoria was looking at the floor as she spoke.
I said, “You are honest with me, when it’s hard for you. That’s good.”
Victoria’s mouth flew open, and she grabbed the edge of the computer desk.
When Victoria was no longer internally distracted, I asked her, “Can I hope that you’ve decided not to ‘get me’?”
She shook her head fiercely. “That would be wrong, Marvin sir! And I promise, if she hires a detective, I’ll let you know!”
I said, “We both know that you could be disbarred if Michelle told the local bar association about this. And yet you plan to do the right thing? That’s good, Victoria, very good. You’re doing a good thing for me. You’re a good woman.”
Victoria screamed, and dropped to her knees. From her knees, she rolled onto the floor, spasming and gasping. Her face was red.
Fatima asked, “Master, does she have your
permission to touch herself in front of you?”
“Yes,” I said.
It took Victoria a full minute to recover enough. Then she knee-walked to where she was beside my chair, then she jammed her hand down inside the slacks of her pantsuit. “Thank you, thank you, Mister Harper, sir—ooh, this feels so good!”
I let the lawyer jill herself for two minutes, then I told Fatima to help Victoria Allblue get presentable for meeting with the twins.
Just before they walked out of the computer-room door, Fatima touched Victoria’s hand. “After you talk to the twins, you crave to talk to Marvin Harper again. You will make up an excuse.”
Victoria repeated this, then Fatima broke the trance, and the two women left.
Ten seconds later, foom—atop a corner of my computer desk appeared a candy dish filled with breath mints.
I thought, Gee, I wonder if Fatima has further plans for subjugating Victoria?
****
Fifteen minutes later, I was still at my computer. I was reading a fresh email from Olivia, the formerly virgin Hollywood actress now in my harem—
Subject: OMG!!! I GOT THE PART!!! ABC BOUGHT “CALL OF DUTY”!!!
Here’s the show’s description: “Cynthia Smith and David Jerome Pendergast III eloped on December 6th, 1941. Pearl Harbor happened on December 7th. David joined the Marines on December 8th. Now Cindy has to move back in with her parents. Her husband’s brother Peter is stalking her, and her new in-laws are calling her pregnant white trash who trapped their son. Meanwhile, David is training for the days when he’ll have only two choices: kill or be killed.”
And I’m cast as Cindy, the star! OMG!!! The script describes me like this: “Cindy loses her virginity on her wedding night, but she never loses her innocence. She remains affectionate and trusting, and is always shocked when people act mean or evil. And though Cindy never flaunts her looks, she is well worth looking at.”
My first costume fitting is next Monday, and we start shooting episodes June 15. The very first scene of the very first show is us getting married in a J.P.’s office. OMG!!!!!
I wrote back: “It sounds like a perfect match between the character and the actress who plays her. Congratulations. When you get an Emmy nomination, I dibs being your date.”
Just after I sent Olivia’s email, Fatima foomed into the computer room and smiled at me. Seconds later, there was a knock at the door.
Fatima opened the door, and Victoria stepped into the room. Fatima spoke quietly while touching the lawyer’s hand, then Victoria quietly repeated Fatima’s words. I couldn’t hear those words.
Victoria walked over to where she was standing by my computer chair. She stood straight and said formally, “Mister Harper, both of my clients have agreed to plead guilty after I negotiate a suitable plea bargain. So I’m here now to tell you, a prosecution witness, that you will be spared from me questioning you in or out of court.”
“Great, I’m glad to hear that,” I said.
I waited for Victoria to go ballistic about the fact that her clients were dressed as French Maids and were dusting furniture while she talked to them. But she didn’t mention that.
Instead, she just stood there.
“Is there anything else?” I asked.
She looked at me hungrily. “I want to initiate an act of oral copulation upon your penis, with intent to arouse and hopefully gratify, thus meeting the definition of ‘sex’ in Jones v. Clinton. Do you give uncoerced consent?”
I unfastened my belt, unsnapped my jeans, and pulled the zipper down. “Caveat fellator,” I warned her. “It’s kind of big.”
Sure enough, her face showed amazement.
****
Ted, Paula Sarin’s husband, was overhauling a snowmobile engine in the garage of the couple’s Lawissa house. Bert, who was Paula’s chief of staff, was using the house’s basement bathroom. All of which was good news for Paula: Nobody was within earshot at the moment.
Paula walked over to Sheila, Paula’s young computer expert (and enthralled lesbian submissive). Paula had a question that she didn’t want anyone else overhearing. (Even though her family and her Senate staff supposedly all were her Suggestioned thralls.)
Sheila sat up straight. “Yes, Senator?” the young woman said eagerly.
Paula said, “Marvin Harper’s house—can you hack into the burglar-alarm system? Turn it off, on command?”
“I know a few tricks I can try,” Sheila said, “but it’s probably not possible.”
“Try. If it’s not 100 percent impossible, try till your brain melts.”
“Understood, Senator. So is this high priority?”
“The highest. Higher than all your Senate duties. And not to be discussed with anyone, even Ted or Bert.”
Sheila’s eyebrows went up, then she turned back to the computer. Her face looked determined.
****
Victoria Allblue had left the house just before dinner, having pleased me with a tantalizing, hour-long blowjob. When she’d finally stood up, I’d told her “Let’s just be friends,” but I don’t think those words un-slaved her much. Fatima had done too thorough a job of magically hypnotizing Victoria.
Victoria’s hour-long blowjob was the first reason that I was in a good mood when I’d sat down to dinner. The second reason was that seven harem girls had moved in at least a suitcase this day, so I’d sat down to eat dinner with fourteen women. (Brenda and Sherry had already gone to work.) We filled up all three tables in the monster kitchen, and I had to roll my twenty-sided die to decide who would sit with Fatima and me at the “master’s table.”
Now I was loving that moment—being in the same room with fourteen women, each hot to look at, and each eager to please me. It was like, “Pool Party, Part 2.”
But there was a big difference between Sunday afternoon’s pool party and Monday night’s dinner—
Now I was aware that the good times for me could end very soon.
After dinner, I stood up and said, “I have an announcement to make.”
I walked to a work counter in the kitchen, where earlier I had laid a sheet of letter-sized paper face-down. Now I returned to my seat, and held up the paper for all to see. It showed a large official photo, posed in front of an American flag.
“Cool, that’s Paula Sarin,” Christi Ellen said. “The people’s senator.”
This could get complicated, I thought. Fatima and I shared a glance.
“That’s right,” I said, “this is a picture of Paula Sarin. I know that she intends to come to my house soon. When that happens, don’t let her in my house, and don’t let her touch you.”
Elvira said, “Uh-huh, Senator Paula Sarin. Of Alaska. Coming to this house, which is close to neither Alaska nor D. C. You’re kidding, right?”
I replied loudly, so that all could hear: “I’m deadly serious. She intends to come here to do me harm, and she will hurt any of you who gets in her way. I repeat: If she asks to come inside the house, don’t let her in; if she gets close to you, don’t let her touch you, not even to shake hands.”
Elvira said, “R-i-ght. Marvin, you’ve gone over to the tinfoil side. Almie, do we have to stay here and listen to this rant?”
Almira replied, “Elvie, I believe whatever Marvin says. And yes, we will stay here and listen. Or else.”
Normally, the implied threat of being sex-starved made Elvira obedient. But not this time—
“But you’ve said yourself, Almie, it’s okay if he lies to you.”
I made an effort to keep my voice calm. “Elvira, why would I lie about this? If I were going to cook up a story, wouldn’t I use a bigger name? The president? Queen Elizabeth? Aliens?”
Elvira stood up and looked around to every face. “It sounds paranoid, admit it. Off-the-wall crazy paranoid.”
I was surprised that Sarin-fan Christi Ellen spoke up: “Marvin is a good man, so I trust that he has good reasons for most of what he tells us to do.”
Bridget added, “And the rest of the time, Mis
ter Harper deserves to act selfishly sometimes. So if he yanks our chains to amuse himself, I’m fine with that.”
Elvira gave a snort. “Does nobody see what I’m saying? Or are you all love-struck pod people?”
Almira said, “You’re pushing my patience, twin.”
Five seconds later, Elvira dropped loudly into her chair. She crossed her arms and turned her face away from me.
But the other twelve human faces looked at me trustingly.
“One more thing,” I said. “If you see Paula Sarin inside this house, don’t attack her or try to fight for me. If you’re holding anything that might possibly be a weapon, put it down as soon as you see her. Even a paring knife.”
“Does everyone understand Master about this last part?” Fatima asked.
Twelve heads nodded. Elvira didn’t react.
“Good,” I said, “because I want to prevent someone’s misfortune.”
“Elvie?” Almira prodded.
Elvira whipped her head around, giving her twin and me both angry looks. “Whatever,” Elvira said.
****
After giving my “Beware Paula Sarin” speech to my harem slaves, I went to the computer room and called my mom’s cel. I told Mom what I’d just told my harem; but to Mom I told the Why, not just the What. Mom gasped when I told her about Jerngert’s murder, and Mom sniffled when I told her about Fatima sobbing over the death of her friend.
I made very sure that I told Mom about Paula Sarin’s power of Suggestion and its limitations.
I’d called Mom with the intent that she put the phone on speaker, so I could talk to both my parents at once. But Dad wasn’t there—once again, he was working late on a project.
Fatima had walked into the computer room during the conversation, so I put her on the phone to Mom. I think Mom was able to give Fatima some comfort.
After I turned off my cel, I asked Fatima to summon her scrying ball; I wanted to know where Paula Sarin was. “In her house in Lawissa, Alaska,” I was told.
I relaxed, hearing that. For now, I had nothing to worry about.
****