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Mother and son continue their taboo relationship.

The length of the skirt would hide her panties well, even if she was spanked. Beneath the jacket though was a pink silk blouse. It was important to have at least some color.

The tactic appeared to be working as it was a rather dull morning, by that meaning there had been no chastisement, no castigation, no spanking. She wasn't exactly sure though how she felt about it, albeit also admonishing herself for actually contemplating the possibility that perhaps she missed the discipline.

Of course, its absence might have been due simply to the fact that Mr. Spader's schedule was so packed with meetings, with current clients, opposing lawyers, potential clients, and even judges. It seemed like there was an endless stream entering and leaving his office.

"Miss Gyllenhall." It was Mr. Spader's crackling voice through the intercom. "Would you come in here, please?"

"Yes sir!" Her heart raced. Had she committed some errors? She most definitely hoped not, but then a part of her kind of hoped there had been. She should probably be spanked just for having such a desire!

However, as she opened the door she realized that, of course, he was still within the middle of a meeting. Sitting on the couch and chairs around the coffee table were senior executives from the Bluestar industrial firm.

She paused at the door. "Sir? You want me? Now?"

"Yes, yes," Mr. Spader impatiently replied. "If you would please, come in here," waving her in as an order more than a request.

"Yes sir," Maggie replied, wondering what this was about, and then realized that they probably just wanted some coffee or something. She glanced over at the bar. There was coffee already available. Perhaps he wanted her to serve the men? That would be reasonable. His clients aren't paying Mr. Spader hundreds of dollars so they could serve themselves coffee. Maggie asked, "Would you like some coffee, sir?" She made her way to the bar.

"No, no, if you wouldn't mind, please, you can stay right there."

She wasn't near anything in particular at the moment. She was just standing in the middle of the room, feeling rather uncertain, and frankly a bit self-conscious. "Sir, is there anything wrong? Anything I can do?" "Well, Miss Gyllenhall, Mr. Barnes here has just informed me that they did not receive the Butterfield report yesterday."

Oops. She had forgotten to take it over to their office, as Mr. Spader had instructed. "Sir, I'm sorry. I totally forgot. I was, um...well, a little distracted yesterday."

"Distracted? You were distracted?"

She realized that being distracted was not a particularly good explanation. "Yes sir," she softly replied. "I can get it right now, sir. It's on my desk."

"No, no, Miss Gyllenhall, I have already provided them with my own copy."

There was a moment of awkward silence. Maggie wondered if she should just apologize, again, and extricate herself from the office. She knew though that once these men left he would most likely want her to return.

Mr. Spader eventually asked, "Do you realize the potential cost to our clients, to us, to the firm, of this...distraction?"

"Yes sir," she replied very quietly, her head bowed contritely, her hands clasped before her, looking as guilty, penitent, and remorseful as she could.

Mr. Barnes, the CEO of Bluestar, actually felt rather sorry for her. She was such a pretty young thing. He felt like reassuring her that it was alright, that there had been no real harm.

Mr. Spader got up from his chair and made his way over to stand near her, not quite by her side, but almost within arm's reach. He gestured with his hands, arms out, palms up and open. "Miss Gyllenhall, you've really left me with no choice. I must demonstrate to Mr. Barnes that we, this firm, cannot, and do not, tolerate such errors, such mistakes...such distractions. Do you understand?"

She thought she did.

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