His suit jacket and trousers were hung neatly in the closet, his tie rolled and put away. He stood, still in his dress shirt, briefs down at his knees, with his nose placed firmly in the corner of their bedroom, bare white ass facing the room. There was nothing he could see in the corner to distract him, not a stray piece of dust nor a random cobweb. The corner, like the rest of the room and the rest of the house, was spotless, everything in its place, including him. He could smell the freshly mown grass outside and he could hear birds singing, an occasional voice as neighbors walked by or worked in their yards. Stark reminders that life went on despite the trouble he found himself in. Occasionally a breeze would rustle the curtains and tickle his bare bottom. With nothing else to occupy his mind he had no choice but to do as she’d instructed, reflect on what had gotten him there and ponder the punishment still to come.
What had gotten him there, he thought, was a combination of bad judgement, poor choices, and bad luck.
Downstairs she checked her watch and then turned to the next article in her magazine, taking a sip of iced tea after she’d turned the page.
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