Transformation

The lawyers debated about the length and nature of the alleged incident. Her side called it bestial brutality, his conceded that it was just a consensual affair. The accused seemed innocent, head down, admitting guilt about adultery, not rape, and when he looked at her, his eyes expressed hurt or dismay. He was described as a hardworking white-collar employee who lived for his wife, kids and aged parents, a mere mortal stumbling over wily seduction. Her lawyer described the abuse that went on for hours, moved to the evidence, including each object and method employed. The other side questioned her character. She looked like a victim then, shriveled, defeated, confused. Her choice of clothing, leading to the incident, was called inappropriate and suggestive. It was recorded that she was not a virgin. Her experience in matters related to sex was impressed upon the learned judge with the impassive face.

She looked up, stared at his lawyer, bewildered, flinching at the conjectures about her sexual life, her sad eyes turned to the accused, her lawyer, the clerks before the judge and then to the judge.

She changed then.

Her back straightened, chest pushed out, her breasts heaving, the shawl slipping, her legs parted slightly, in a wide stance, a hand on her hip, her ample curves visible, the other hand toyed with a charm on a chain near  her breast. His lawyer stopped the narration when she smiled, a smile that lurked on her smirking lips and teasing eyes, the eyes that seemed to have turned kohl-lined, dark and fearless. She stared at the lawyer for a while. Then, her seductive gaze fell on everyone in the room, daring people to speak. Her tongue flicked out to wet her pouting lips or suggestively poked within at her dimpled cheek. The judge wiped his forehead. Her lawyer appeared stunned. The accused kept his head down, fidgeting, nervous or scared.