Of course she's late

One o'clock comes and no Meghan appears in your office. You check her desk and find it empty and return to your office to wait. At twelve minutes after one, there's a clatter of heels and she's standing in your door, slightly out of breath and looking anxious.

"I'm so sorry I'm late Mr. Chandler, I went for lunch with Amanda and the place was so slow and...."

"I'm not interested. Come in and shut the door. Apparently you don't take your situation seriously. Stand in front of my desk."

"Yes Sir," she replies meekly, standing where you tell her, her hands clasped in front of her. "It won't happen again..." she starts then bites her lip and stops as she sees the look on your face.

"You always say that, and it always happens again. I've made it clear that I'm out of patience, and you can expect no protection from your grandfather. Well, it's clear that more punishment is in order. What do you think I should do to you, Meghan?

She looks at you with trepidation, biting her lip.

"Maybe you should spank me again, Mr. Chandler," she says quietly, staring at you.

"I don't see why. It doesn't seem to have much effect on getting you to be on time. I think something else is called for. Something more serious."

Her eye's widen with alarm, her chin trembling.

"What are you going to do, Sir?"