Della rushed down the marble corridor of the courthouse, the heels of her sling back pumps clicking rapidly against the floor. She burst through the doors of courtroom number one and breathlessly took her seat at the defense table. She was unaware of the curious, yet relieved, look on her client's face. Her attention was focused on the judge.

"Ms. Mason, you are late." The words, spoken precisely and enunciated clearly, pierced the courtroom, and Della felt her stomach tighten.

"My apologies to the court, your honor. I certainly meant no disrespect."

The judge went on, "you know this court will not tolerate a disruption in its schedule. I'm finding you in contempt and fining you five hundred dollars. Make sure you pay the clerk before you leave."

She opened her mouth to protest, but one look from the judge told her that further protestations would only add to his foul mood. She sat down and opened her brief case.

"One more thing, Ms. Mason." Della looked up at the judge again. "I'd like to see you in my chambers after this hearing."

"Yes, your honor." Her shoulders slumped briefly, and then she straightened herself and focused on the judge who was addressing her client.

"Ms. Hanford, the grand jury has indicted you for pandering. The indictment states that for a period spanning at least six months prior to your arrest you were engaged in procuring women to perform sex acts for money and that you profited from those activities. In this state, pandering is a fourth degree felony, which carries a maximum possible sentence of two years in the state reformatory for women and a maximum possible fine of five thousand dollars. How do you wish to plead to these charges?"

Della felt her client tense in the seat next to her and heard her soft gasp when the judge stated the possible sentences. Della rose quickly to her feet. "Your honor, my client pleads not guilty. We will waive the formal reading of the indictment. My client wishes to assert her right to a speedy trial and to a reasonable bond."

At the mention of bond, the prosecutor, Johnny Simpson, rose to address the court. Because he was usually detached and unemotional, Della was surprised to see perspiration glistening under his thinning brown hair.

"Your honor, the state believes that the defendant, Ms. Hanford, is a flight risk. She has considerable assets at her disposal and no extended family in the area. For that reason, the state requests that bail be set at one million dollars."

"A million dollars?" The words were out of Della's mouth before she realized what she was doing. She clamped her mouth shut and looked at the judge.

He glared down at her from the bench and said through clenched teeth, "Ms. Mason, would you care to respond to Mr. Simpson's statement?"

As she stood to address the court, Della smoothed her skirt and squared her shoulders. Her fifteen years of experience kicked in to give her the confidence and poise that had earned her a reputation as one of the best criminal defense lawyers in the state. She spoke clearly and directly to the court.

"Yes, your honor, I would. Mr. Simpson's request for one million dollars bond is outrageous. Clearly, it is based upon the publicity that this case has generated rather than concern for the safety of the community. My client is charged with pandering, and despite the headlines in the paper that make it seem like a major criminal offense, pandering is a low level felony. There are no allegations of violence or weapons. My client is not a threat to the safety of the community. She has business dealings in the area as well as significant real estate holdings. She is married, and her husband has his own business, which makes it even less likely that she would flee. She has no prior record and there is no indication that she is a flight risk. Therefore, the defense requests that she be released on her own recognizance."

"Bond is set at one million dollars. Court is adjourned." With that, the judge slammed down his gavel and left the bench. As he did so, he turned back to Della, "Remember, Ms. Mason, I wish to see you in chambers."

Della's stomach tightened again, and her jaw clenched as she anticipated yet another confrontation with the judge.

As the courtroom emptied, Della followed her client into one of the adjoining conference rooms. After they were seated and the door was closed, Della introduced herself to her client. "Peggy, I'm so sorry that I was late and didn't get a chance to speak with you before the hearing began. When your husband called yesterday to retain my services, he didn't have a lot of information about the case. What can you tell me?"

Della studied her client. The dumpy orange jail jumpsuit could not hide the fact that she was quite lovely. Her beautiful complexion and toned body were a testament to the benefits of weekly facials and regular workouts with a personal trainer. Peggy Hanford looked to be in her early thirties.

Peggy took a deep breath. "Nothing like this has ever happened to me before, but you probably hear that all the time. I employ a number of young women who provide companionship to gentlemen, and most of my girls are in college or graduate school, so they need the extra money. I like to hire students because they can make the money they need in a short amount of time, and my clients want attractive and intelligent young women who can accompany them to social events or simply to provide companionship for a nice dinner. There are also rooms at my house that they can use if privacy and discretion are needed. That's what my company, Jolie, provides. If the girls and the gentlemen who have engaged their services for the evening come to some other agreements for additional services, so be it. That's not what we advertise or provide ... technically."

Della noticed a deputy lingering outside the door waiting to take Peggy back to the county jail. "I'm sorry that the judge set your bond so high. I am assuming, based upon what your husband told me, that you could use one of your homes as collateral in order to bond out today. Once you are home, call my office and we will make an appointment to go over all the details. I haven't even had a chance to go over the police reports or the search warrant. Della patted her client's shoulder as she stood, "Please don't be concerned. I'll talk to you soon. But, as you know, I really must go and meet with the judge."

* * * *
Della tapped on the judge's door and entered. His chambers were large and masculine in their décor. There were overstuffed chairs near the antique desk, and photographs of the judge as a college football player sat amongst the law books on the shelves. A large, well worn, leather couch occupied one whole wall.

The judge was standing in the middle of the room. Though he no longer played football, he still looked nearly the same as when he was in college, thanks to regular workouts and good genes. Only the slight graying at his temples gave any indication that he was old enough to be the father of three teenage sons. He removed his robe and laid it across one of the overstuffed chairs. Then he crossed the room, and closed, and locked the door. He turned slowly to look at her, and Della held her breath as she waited for him to speak.

"Della, how could you be late on today of all days? Did you see the news trucks outside and the reporters in the courtroom today? They're going to be looking for anything to make a story out of this case, and my own wife shows up late!" He paused to gain control so that his secretary would not hear his raised voice.

"I'm sorry, darling. You know I am, but I couldn't help it." The words spilled from Della's mouth. "The dog jumped on me on my way out of the house, and I got a big run in my stockings. I had to go back into the house and change--and since I didn't have any more pantyhose, I had to put on that silly garter belt and stockings that you got me for my birthday. It all took so long that I was late."

"Your excuses will not be tolerated, young lady. We've had this conversation so many times that I can't count them all. You know that in order to practice in my court we must both show the highest level of professionalism in order to avoid accusations of favoritism. I know that the five hundred dollar fine might seem harsh, but I have to make it clear that you are not receiving any special treatment."

Della knew Steven was right, and she hung her head. He was a good judge and didn't deserve the problems she was causing him.

Her husband walked toward Della and wrapped her in his strong embrace. "I know you're sorry, darling," he said, kissing the top of her head. "But, you cannot flaunt the rules of court--especially not the rules of my court. You must be punished."

With that, Steven sat down on the leather couch and pulled Della across his knees. She was caught by surprise, and a small squeal escaped her lips.

"Now, sweetheart, you know I can't have my staff hear you. So be a good girl and take your punishment quietly." Steven pulled his wife's silk skirt up around her waist and the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile. "I see you didn't have time to find any panties this morning either. You know how I feel about my wife flaunting herself. Despite the fact that I am enjoying the view, that will cost you five more."

As he spoke, the judge's hand came down hard on Della's exposed backside. Her stocking clad legs churned in response to the sudden, intense pain. Within a few minutes, the black silk of his wife's stockings provided a stark contrast to the red hue of her obviously stinging rump.

Della bit her lip to keep from crying out. Tears stung her eyes, and she gasped to catch her breath. She clung to the arm of the couch to keep her balance. "I'm sorry, Steven ... really I am. Please stop! I have another hearing in an hour, and I'll never be able to sit through it. You know how hard those wooden chairs in Judge Shaw's courtroom are."

The determined judge continued to redden his wife's nicely rounded bottom and shapely thighs. "Sweetheart, you know very well that I cannot allow your behavior to go unpunished. You'll just have to hope that Judge Shaw doesn't go on another one of his long-winded tirades while you are seated at counsel tables."

When he finally finished meting out Della's punishment, Steven smoothed her skirt back in place and turned her over to hold her in his arms. Della snuggled her face into her husband's neck and breathed deeply of his scent--a heady combination of male strength, cologne, and a bit of sweat. She drew in a ragged breath as he ran his hand down her spine and gently cradled her close.

Slowly, the judge moved his hand down Della's thigh and up her skirt. "I guess going without panties does have some advantages," he said, smiling as his hand found its target.

The well-spanked woman wriggled in delight as his fingers moved inward and expertly stroked soft pink flesh until she was wet and panting. She kissed Steven's neck and tugged at his earlobe with her teeth. Laying her down on the couch, the judge stood to kick off his shoes and remove his pants. Moments later, Della's stinging hiney was pushed against the leather cushions of the couch, her skirt again up around her waist as her husband knelt over her. Reaching up, she loosened her husband's tie and unbuttoned his shirt. She ran her hands over the soft hair of his chest, down and around his hips to give his rear end a squeeze, and then back to the front to clasp his large and familiar erection with both hands. The heat created by Steven's hard right hand was quickly spreading through Della's body.

"Oh, darling, I'm sorry that I got so mad," Steven said as he unbuttoned his wife's blouse and released the front clasp on her bra. "I'm just under so much stress." He ran his hands over her breasts--still firm and lush, even after three children--and teased at her nipples until they were pink and swollen. Where his fingers ventured, the judge's lips quickly followed.

Della felt a sudden thrill as he pulled at her nipple with his teeth. Clasping her hands in his thick, dark hair, she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Steven raised his head and kissed her. Softly at first, and then deeper. His tongue, which had been rough against her breast, was warm and sensuous as it probed her mouth and played with her tongue. When he pulled away, Della was gasping.

"I know you're under a lot of stress, dear. And, truly, I'm sorry I was late." Della reached down and stroked his generous erection as she spoke. Her hand slid up and down from root to tip and back again. "Mmmm. You just need to release some of this stress, Your Honor."

Della bent her head and touched her tongue to the tip of Steven's throbbing penis. She ran her tongue around the tip, thoroughly lubricating him before he groaned huskily and pushed her back into the soft leather. He pushed her thighs apart with his knee and lowered himself to enter her.

Della grasped Steven's shoulders and buried her face in his neck to keep from crying out at the pleasure he gave her. The stinging in her butt as she wriggled it against the soft leather couch in order to take him deeper inside only added to the pleasurable sensations whirling around her. Wrapping her legs around him and pulling him close, she moaned soft encouragements until Steven released the pressure of the day into her welcoming heat.

* * * *
Della left her firm's check for five hundred dollars with the clerk of courts and walked outside to return to her office. Even the unbearably long hearing with Judge Shaw could not take the spring out of her step as she remembered her tryst with her husband that morning. She was, however, glad that she had not worn panties when she felt the cool fall breeze blow under her skirt and cool her uncovered bottom. Those hard wooden chairs in Judge Shaw's courtroom had done nothing to relieve the assault on her shapely rump that her husband had meted out that morning. At least, her silk skirt was cool against her bare skin.