Disclaimer: all characters and persons in this story are over the age of 18 and consenting

It had been a long week, one of those weeks where nothing seems to be going right and the world is out to get you. I am not so conceited that I genuinely thought there was some cosmic being sabotaging me but just in case, I flipped off the empty room behind me.

In front of me was a white wall with little patterns playing in the paint. Patterns I was becoming increasingly acquainted with, having had my nose pressed up to them for the last twenty minutes I had been standing here.

I hated corner time. Too much time to think, which I suppose is the point of it all. But instead of reflecting on what led me up to this point, all I could think about is what would happen when he came in.

You never get used to being punished. To the vulnerable feeling of being called to walk up and lay yourself across the lap of the person meaning to teach you a lesson. No matter how many times I stood in this exact corner, the butterflies continued to wreak havoc in the pit of my tummy.

I fidgeted, which was expressly against protocol and yet I could never seem to stop myself.

The door made no sound when it opened, but I felt the difference in the room. The sense of foreboding, of eyes taking me in displayed for judgement. My pink lace panties is stark contrast to the white canvas that was the wall. My nighty bunched up at my waist and the goosebumps trailing my arms and legs.

I considered making a run for it. Briefly. Then buried that thought right next to all the other terrible ones that had landed me in trouble. It would be no use. If I ran, he wouldn’t stop me. But I needed this. We needed this to heal the hurt I had caused.

“Come here sweet girl”, he called. Gentle, even now, even after I had lost my temper after the horrible week I had and let it loose on the one person who always had my back.

We had been out to dinner, my wine glass had spilled all over the table and my white blouse. When he had went to help me clean it up I had yelled at him not to touch me. When he stood up to guide me to the restroom I stomped on his foot. When he lent me his coat to put over myself so we could enjoy the rest of our dinner, our 10 year anniversary dinner that is, I refused to eat or speak.

Overall I had been the biggest of brats, rude and inconsiderate and hostile. I had ruined our evening because I had let the pressures of the week get to me. And instead of calmly explaining that to him, my Sir, my Daddy- I had left him to pick up the pieces of my hurricaine.