As a senior partner in my firm for twenty-plus years, I was a highly accomplished lawyer with an impeccable record in high-stakes cases. My managing partner entrusted me with our most difficult cases. My determination to win was unmatched among my peers.
As I was sifting through the never-ending pile of cases on my desk, each vying for my attention, I came across a file labeled "Rodriguez, Mia." It contained details of a string of vandalism charges.
"How'd this get here?" I said under my breath, insulted that something so trivial made it to my desk. I tossed it out into the hallway and returned to my desk, muttering, "I have more important matters to handle."
The next day, the file had returned, sitting at the top of the pile. Annoyed, I walked it out to my secretary. "Please take this to our junior associates and let them fight over it," I directed her.
"Are you sure? That file was hand-delivered here by your boss," she replied. "Something to do with Judge Rodriguez?"
"Jesus Christ," I grumbled, connecting the name to the girl in the file. Xavier Rodriguez was an influential judge to whom I owed more than a few favors.
"You have an appointment with him in an hour, by the way, that I'm sure you forgot about," my secretary added dryly.
"Great! Thanks," I said, matching her sarcastic tone. I tossed the file back on my desk to be buried under my more pressing priorities. The last thing I wanted to do was take on this case. Reluctantly, I met with Judge Rodriguez. We greeted each other professionally. "What can I do for you?" I asked.
"I'm seeking your expertise to represent my niece, Mia," he replied.
I leaned back in my chair. "Respectfully, Xavier, you know the cases I handle. This is well below the variety I'll typically see. I've got a big trial coming up, and I can't afford to spend what little time I have on petty crimes," I said, doing my best to dissuade him. "I will give this to my best associate. I promise it'll be in good hands."
Xavier sighed. "I'm going to have to call in one of those favors on this one. Mia is a struggling kid just trying to show her art to the world. She may not be going about it in the right way, but she's a good person. Her dad was never really around. I need to make sure she doesn't get screwed here."
I looked at him, making no effort to conceal my irritation.
He continued, "She needs someone like you to straighten her out. Give her a chance."
With a reluctant sigh, I finally agreed. "Fine, but I'm doing this to pay a favor back, not because I find joy in babysitting."
"Great! I'm so happy we could work something out," he said, smiling from ear to ear. I shook his hand, and he left. I had a feeling this was going to be worse than I imagined.
My secretary arranged the appointment, and I met Mia the following day at a cafe down the street. Mia found me easily; I was the only one wearing a suit. She sat down across from me with a bubbly smile, almost bouncing in her seat. "So, you're the hotshot lawyer my uncle got for me?" she said with a smirk.
I ignored her comment and looked her up and down, gathering data. She was in her mid-twenties, confident in her natural beauty. Her face was framed with a cascade of unruly brown hair. Her posture held a mix of nonchalance and subtle rebellion.
"So, my uncle says you're the best. Is this true?" Mia asked, grinning mischievously.
I remained composed and professional. "My reputation speaks for itself, Miss Rodriguez. Now, about your case..."
She cut me off with a laugh. "Oh, lighten up, Mr. Serious. I didn't do anything except paint some beautiful art for our wonderful community.
I sighed, failing to suppress my annoyance. I opened the file and pulled out the first picture. It showed a concrete bridge with skyscrapers in the distance. Along the side of the bridge, it read, "I eat cock for breakfast." in bright yellow and red graffiti. "Beautiful art," I said sarcastically.
She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Oh, that was some of my early work. You should see some of my new shit," she said, completely unfazed.
"Like this one?" I asked, flipping over to another picture showing a statue of a man bending over to pet a dog. On the wall behind the statue near the man's rear end was a smattering of paint depicting a graphic version of explosive diarrhea.
"Oh shit, I forgot about that," she said, unable to contain her giggling. "The opportunity was just too good to pass up. Don't you agree?"
"Miss Rodriguez, this may not be a high-profile case, but it's serious enough. I suggest you take it seriously, too.
I was met with more eye rolls. "Hmm, I see you like to play the stern lawyer," she said teasingly.
I countered with a stern gaze. "Mia, this is not a game. It's your future we're talking about. The city is cracking down hard on vandalism lately. Now, let's discuss how we can navigate this case and ensure you don't end up with more than just a slap on the wrist."
Mia leaned in, a sly grin playing on her lips. "Oh, I didn't know a professional such as yourself was into the whole 'slap on the wrist' thing. I can think of some other places where a slap might be a little more...persuasive."
Her persistence was wearing me down internally, but I remained focused. "Miss Rodriguez, this is not the time for inappropriate innuendos. We're here to address legal matters. Let's keep our focus on the case at hand. Your future is at stake, and I won't allow any distractions to compromise our efforts."
While I remained unflinching on the exterior, her sassy, suggestive banter was having its effect. Luckily, the table hid those effects from her because my suit pants seemed determined to show the world.
"I'll come up with a game plan. Let's meet in a week. Until then, no more 'beautiful art,'" I said, closing her file and busily packing my stuff up, desperately hoping my erection would disappear.
"Or what?" she asked coyly. "You'll slap my wrist?"
I looked her dead in the eyes. "You just don't give up, do you?" She just maintained her stare with that same suggestive look. "Keep pushing, and you'll see," I said, giving in just a little.
Lingering any longer would've made it weird, but my dick was as hard as ever. I stood up quickly, grabbing my bag to hide it as inconspicuously as possible, but her expression gave her away. She saw, and now she knew she had me. I said goodbye and walked back to my car.
The following week was very unproductive. As I sifted through legal documents and reviewed case details, I found my concentration repeatedly drifting. Mia was in my head.
My mind played back our cafe encounter. That little giggle of hers was intoxicating, and her little comment about slapping her elsewhere had me all fucked up. I found myself fantasizing about having her bent over my desk with her bottom presented to me for punishment. In my head, she looked back at me with those devilish eyes. "C'mon, Mr. Serious, aren't you going to slap me for my behavior?" I imagined her saying.
My dick grew once again to full size in my pants. This time, in the privacy of my office, I unzipped my pants, took out my cock in my hand, and stroked away as visions of spanking Mia into submission played in my head. Suddenly, my office door opened. Frantically, I put my dick back in my pants. "Jesus! Don't you knock?" I rudely asked my secretary.
"Uhh, not usually," she retorted, handing me another file.
"I was just..." I said, starting to preemptively defend myself.
She interrupted, throwing her hands up in the air, saying, "I don't wanna know," before quickly exiting. The moment had passed, but I vowed to return to those delicious fantasies as soon as I escaped to the privacy of my home.
As my next meeting with Mia loomed closer, I reaffirmed my commitment to staying professional. I couldn't risk damaging my reputation by getting distracted with Mia.
Despite my genuine attempts to maintain my composure, I found myself at the agreed-upon meeting spot with a heightened sense of anticipation. Mia sat down across from me with that same smirk. "Good afternoon, sir," she said playfully.
I ignored her feigned respect. "Miss Rodriguez, let's focus on resolving your case. Time for games is not a luxury we have."
She leaned forward, her tone teasing. "Who said anything about games? This is very serious."
I dismissed her teasing and spoke more firmly than before. "We need to address the legal proceedings to ensure you don't face severe consequences."
"Severe consequences?" she responded, eyes wide in mockery. "What kind of consequences, sir?"
I was known for having nerves of steel in the courtroom, but she seemed determined to get on every single one of them. At the same time, I couldn't shake the attraction I had toward her, which only intensified by the minute. Calling me sir only added to my strong desire to dominate. She was purposely pushing my buttons, and it was working.
I made a last-ditch effort to bury those feelings and convince her. "If convicted, you might face not only fines and probation but also the possibility of a criminal record, which could hinder your educational and employment prospects. Moreover, the judge handling the case is known for taking a stern stance on repeat offenders. Your history of rebellious behavior might sway the court towards a harsher sentence, including community service, mandatory counseling, or even a brief period of juvenile detention. If you don't start taking this seriously, I will not be able to make a believable case for the jury. This is life-altering. Do you understand the stakes here, girl?"
"Oookaay, Mr. Serious, I think I'll be just fine. Uncle Xavier says you're the best anyway," she said, brushing off my warning.
My frustration was building, and she just carried on without a care in the world. I had to say something to get her attention, and warning her about her future did nothing. She needed something more immediate. I recalled what she had hinted at in our last conversation. "Maybe you do need more than just a slap on the wrist," I said in a low tone.
