Michael was a newly-appointed District Attorney for his city. He was coming into the position on the heels of the previous DA who had been unceremoniously ejected from the job due to a high-profile sex scandal. The official reason given for the ejection was the decline of the DA’s ability to prosecute cases, which was true, but Michael had seen more incompetent buffoons as DA’s.

To set himself apart from his predecessor, Michael had been looking to start off strong for state. A couple of months ago, what had looked like the perfect case had landed on his desk. Since it had seemed pretty straightforward, he’d decided to undertake a solo prosecution for the case.

It was open-and-shut, or at least, should have been in the eyes of any sane person like Michael. A group of young men, just a few years Michael’s junior, had been caught openly fucking in the city park. It had all been caught on CCTV, and from the look if it, the guys hadn’t even bothered to hide their activities from public view.

Neither Michael nor the judges in the district were stupid enough to think that the park was a pure place. Everyone knew that sexual stuff happened in the out-of-the-way parts of the park. Cruising was a given, especially for gay men. Had the case been about that, Michael would have completely refused to even take it on.

This particular case, however, was different. Not only did the men caught on tape engage in hardcore, bareback gay sex with bodily fluids flying everywhere, they did so near the entrance of the park, in full view of a major thoroughfare. If there was any conduct that exemplified public indecency, it was what those young men did.

A reasonable attorney would have advised that his clients take a plea deal after discovery on the case. In fact, Michael had been fully prepared to show leniency had the perpetrators decided to take the deal. After all, none of them had prior records, and all the information he could find on the young men indicated that they were actually upstanding members of the community.

The only problem was that the defense counsel advised his clients against taking the plea deal. It was utter insanity, and Michael thought opposing counsel was having a joke at his expense before he realized that the other attorney was being serious.

There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that the defense could win the case, given the damning evidence that Michael had at his disposal, and yet the defense attorney acted as if he was the one with an advantage. As the defense insisted on a trial, Michael saw no reason to resist given his confidence.

Maybe Michael should have perceived the confidence as a red flag that the opposition wasn’t going to play fair, but he had seen a chance to put a smug, arrogant, clearly-inexperienced attorney in his place. Besides, he thought that a slam-dunk trial would look good on his record so he didn’t pass up the chance for one.

Since the drama around the case was heating up, the local media, parasites that some of them were, picked up the story of the case. With the increased scrutiny, a part of Michael actually found himself hoping that the defense would see some sense, but if anything, the other attorney just dug his heels in.

It was all the same to Michael. Either the case got closed faster, or he got a chance to show off in front of the media and in front of the people he represented. Unfortunately, neither had managed to happen.

The defense toed the line, using delaying tactic after delaying tactic to postpone the trial. Eventually, the media circus got tired and the news cycle moved on to other things. Michael even briefly considered giving up the case, but had stuck it out because he really wanted to teach the opposing counsel a lesson.

Eventually, the defense couldn’t delay anymore, and the first day of the trial arrived. The defense arrived looking quite proper, which was more than Michael had honestly expected. Everything seemed about normal until the judge came and called for opening statements.

Michael got up and addressed the bench, laying out his case in a short and sweet speech. He didn’t really need more than that, as the evidence he had on hand would speak for itself. The footage was incontrovertible, each man involved clearly visible. That there was even a trial at all was a farce.

Opposing counsel got up after him, but instead of standing straight, the other attorney bent over his desk, arching his back and pushing his ass out. Michael hadn’t noticed earlier, but opposing counsel had such tight pants on that he could see the outline of opposing counsel’s underwear—a jockstrap.

It was wholly unprofessional, to say the least, and in Michael’s opinion probably worthy of contempt. However, opposing counsel’s choice of underwear was the least egregious thing that came out of the other side’s opening statements.

The notion of "Bubble Boy Insanity," as opposing counsel had put it, was complete and utter hogwash. Michael suspected that it was another smokescreen meant to cover up the complete lack of any real substantial arguments on the side of the defense. No one, least of all an experienced judge, would buy the idea that the defendants were incapable of controlling their sexual urges.

As the trial dragged on, however, three things happened simultaneously. First and foremost, the judge seemed to almost be taken by the defense. He smiled whenever the defense spoke, and gave opposing counsel incredible leeway. At the same time, the judge grew increasingly terse with Michael, despite the fact that he was the only one offering substantial arguments for the case.

Second, the defendants seemed to get quite restless in their seats. They would giggle at one another and make flirty faces at the judge. Michael had pointed it out, in case the judge hadn’t noticed, but even when he did, the defendants weren’t so much as told off for disrupting the proceedings.

Third, Michael himself found it more and more difficult to concentrate on the proceedings. He kept getting distracted by opposing counsel’s fat, round ass. He couldn’t help staring at it and wondering what it would feel like to have one of his own. Maybe bigger.

The trial dragged on for weeks. Each court date seemed to come sooner than the last. The case consumed Michael. At first, he could juggle the rest of the duties of his position but eventually, the indecency case was the only one that he could think about.

The other cases that required Michael’s attention were either dropped, handed off to his ADAs, or simply fell by the wayside. Michael was obsessed with the indecency trial. He pored over his arguments over and over and over again, each time taking just a little bit longer than last time as he found it more and more difficult to wrap his head around the language and logic of what he was presenting to the court.

With every court date, the fog in Michael’s head seemed to get worse. The only time he could get some clarity in his head was when he was at the gym, especially when he was working on his ass. The repetitive, mindless motions let him take a break from the case. That didn’t make him any more productive, though, as going through the motions just left him feeling nice and blank.

Over the last few weeks, Michael’s ass had started growing. Faster than he would have expected from the workouts he was doing. Not that he was complaining. He loved the feeling of it, loved how padded his chair now felt with his pillowy ass.

Arguments and evidence stopped featuring entirely in Michael’s mind whenever he thought about the indecency case. He just mainly thought of the defense’s big ass and how much he would have loved to stick his tongue down the attorney’s pants. And he often found himself wondering how it would feel like to be seated between the defendants as they played with and fondled each other.

There came a court date, though Michael couldn’t really remember when, that while he was questioning a witness, bent over his desk like the defense, a loud ripping sound had filled the courtroom as his briefs split right down the seam.

Michael’s ass had been growing so much that none of his old underwear fit him anymore. He decided that maybe the defense attorney had made the right call and started wearing jockstraps to work. They were so much more comfortable and they highlighted his fat ass so much better than his old, lame underwear, even if they were a bit unprofessional.

Eventually, the day came for closing arguments, and Michael had, in all honesty, completely forgotten what he was even advocating for. He wasn’t even sure if he was an attorney or one of the defendants.

In any case, opposing counsel elected to have an orgy with the defendants in the middle of the well of the court in lieu of closing statements. Michael hadn’t been able to resist and conceded the case by joining in. No one went to jail, but everyone left happy and filled with cum, like the good empty-headed bubble boys that they had become.