“Come here,” he said.

Slowly, a little bit reluctantly, she walked toward him.

“Good girl,” he said, as she got close, “Kneel, please.”

She knelt at his feet, rocking back on her heels.

”What happens now?” He asked.

She bowed her head, avoiding his eyes. “You check my progress, Sir,” she said.

’That’s right,” he said. He opened the book on his lap, the ledger where she had recorded her own infractions all week, where he had added any that she had missed. She waited patiently while he read the week’s report to himself. She knew that she had not made the progress they had agreed she should make.

”Look at me,” he said, and she knew he had finished reading and was ready to decide on her punishment. She looked up slowly, ashamed of her failures.

”Baby,” he said. “You look so sad.”

”I am. I hate that I let you down this week. I dropped the ball all over the place. I didn’t mean to. “

”I know,” he said. “It was a hard week, and I watched you struggle. I hoped you would ask me for help and we could have made some corrections earlier. Why didn’t you?”

She sighed. “I thought I could do it Sir. I was wrong. When I got behind on things – on exercise, and the goals we set on projects, I just kept thinking I could catch up. Next time, I’ll ask for help.”

But he shook his head. “That’s what you tell me every week,” he said. “I see how stubborn you are. Stubborn and proud.”

His words wounded her because she knew they were true. Too proud to ask for help, too stubborn to give in.

“When I punish you tonight,” he said, “It will be more for that pride and stubbornness than for any of your other infractions. Take off your clothes. Go stand in the corner and think about that.”

Obediently, she stood, carefully taking off her sweater, slipping off her skirt, folding them both neatly and laying them on the chair. She moved to the corner, arms on top of her head, and thought about pride and stubbornness.

She loved her Sir, and she had agreed to obey him. She knew that he wanted her to be successful; the goals they had set were for her own good. She knew that. So why couldn’t she just do the things she needed to do? Or ask for help. It was the asking for help that was so hard. She wondered what he would do tonight.

To be continued…