Eyebrows would raise as soon as the fiery comment left my lips. I would be summoned closer and asked if I could repeat myself, for surely I was misunderstood. When I'm asked if I felt it was an appropriate comment to make, I would answer with excuses, only to be cut short with a simple "Enough."
I would be sent to reacquaint myself with an old friend, the corner.
"Obviously you're in need of a little attitude adjustment. I know a well spanked girl would never speak to me that way. " he would say, leading me by my arm. "I think I have just the thing to remind you of your place."
Further protests are spoken, but ignored as garments are removed and I'm placed into position. In my thoughts, I'm brave, shooting silent remarks in his direction. Soon vulnerability prickles my skin and I am quiet.
Time passes. My attention moves from the texture of the walls to the stirring behind me. He would be busy gathering his supplies for the job ahead of him, occasionally slapping one against his the palm of his hand. The noises would cause me swallow hard and shift my weight. Familiar uneasiness would settle in, driving my body further into into the corner in a vain attempt to become unnoticed.
But he would notice.
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