He looked a the message on his phone as he made his way through the airport.
'Hello 26. My flight lands in three hours. Be at the bar in concourse A.'
He was a half an hour early and was not going to miss out again. It had been three weeks since she last texted him. Three weeks since he could not make it. Three weeks of waiting. Waiting for release. Three more weeks of wondering if he'd be granted relief along with release.
His excitement quickly morphed into apprehension as he rounded the corner and seen that she was already seated in the bar. He swallowed hard as he had to force his body to start walking again.
His eyes locked in on her gaze as he walked up to her table. "Mistress, I thought you said three hours." he stammered out, his voice almost quaking.
"Calm down counselor. My flight was early. Besides I don't have much time so we'll have to set things straight right here." She motioned to the chair next to him. "Sit!"
He hoisted himself up onto the tall seat that was just inside the entrance. Although the airport itself was well lit, as were most, the inside of the bar was not. "Please let me explain. . ."
"Shh!" she put her finger to her lips. "I texted you where and when right?"
"Yes, but. . ."
"But nothing counselor. You knew the rules, right?"
"Yes."
"Was I not clear?"
"No, You were very clear, but I was in court. . . The judge. . . I just couldn't. . ."
"No, of course not. So you chose to wait." He demeanor was calm and reassuring. "Three long weeks. Never knowing when I would call again. . . Tsk, tsk, tsk. . . Well, I'm here now."
"I wanted to. . ."
"Counselor, please. Stop. You're going to talk yourself out of your orgasm if you don't stop."
She watched as he tried to calmed himself down. Actually he was more quiet than calm, fighting the anticipation of relief.
"Now. You missed our last meeting, but you should have had something to give me, no?"
"Oh, yes. Right." He flipped his briefcase up onto the table and pulled out a small envelope. He slid it across the table to her.
She placed it in her purse and sipped her drink. "Now this meeting."
He had expected this and slid the second envelope across the table.
Without opening that one either she put it away. "Now there's the matter of my time. Pain and suffering. Damages, right. As a lawyer you can understand that compensation is in order. Five minutes you owe me."
"I understand." He didn't, but he wasn't in a position to question her. Not now.
"I hope you do. My time is valuable and when it's wasted then there is less time to care for my pets. Less time for my pets means that I am now neglecting them." She paused to gauge his reaction, which was on the surface blank, but she could smell his fear. "Neglecting them because of you. Now I'm sure this was not premeditated. . . At least I hope it wasn't. . ." He shook his head quickly. "So the charge is 33 counts of neglecting pets, plus" She held up a finger. "33 counts of obstructing chastity administration."
"33!"
"Yes, counselor 33. Is that a problem?"
"No! I. . . It's. . . Uh. . ."
"I should hope not. Now, that's 66 counts that each carry a sentence of one month of sexual solitary confinement without the possibility of release and one session of corrective reeducation."
His head was spinning. Five years of chastity. He knew better than to wonder if she was serious. He let out a deep breath as he thought about corrective reeducation, which was simply code for corporal punishment. "Mistress, please. I'm begging you."
"You should beg. You need to understand how important my time is."