“We must depart. And you’ll be amused to find that your scent will add a quaint level of debauchery to our discussion. Come.”
As always, Chief Judge Victor Hopkins prefers to leave discussion of our licentious use of power for late in the day. Therefore as I lead the pretty blonde to the prestigious corner office, most clerical types are preparing for day’s end with some walking the halls to leave. A clerk shows us directly into the chambers. In being distracted by the forthcoming commute home, he does not notice the odoriferous feminine scent emanating from my hand and beneath Muffin’s skirt.
In entering, Judge Hopkins wordlessly nods towards the door. I know to bolt it behind me.
“Good evening, Muffin,” the aging jurist graciously welcomes.
Greetings are exchanged as Judge Hopkins
