“You know what you need to do,” he said.

She was standing in the corner, bottom on display. “But I don’t want to stand in the corner,” she said. She felt like stamping her foot, but knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. It wasn’t the first time she had protested the injustice of the situation.

He was being very patient, partly because he was amused at her attitude. She was usually so obedient, eager to do as she was told, that he could watch this unfold without putting a quick stop to it.

“But Sir…” She knew she was whining, but couldn’t quite change the tone. “I don’t need to be spanked. I mean, yes, it turns me on. I’ll admit that. I’m glad that you like doing it. But I don’t need to be spanked. And I don’t like asking for things.”

“But sometimes,” and his voice was a bit sharper now, “Sometimes you need to ask for help. Whether you like it or not. And when you fail to do that, then you need to be punished. I’ve decided that punishment is going to be a spanking. You need to ask me nicely to please spank you. Hard. Or you can stand in the corner until you decide to ask.”

His words almost cut through her resistance. She felt herself softening, and the rush of heat between her legs, the tug at her core, was both arousing and humiliating. She hated that he had this affect on her even now. And she loved it. She wanted it, even right now when she didn’t want it.

She could feel that he had moved away from her, and she wondered what he was doing. She wanted to turn and look, but she knew better than that. She heard a drawer open and close – felt her heart rate speed up. What was he doing?

Then he was right behind her, she could feel his warmth on her back. “Take your hands off your head,” he directed, “and spread your cheeks wide.”

A rush of shame, a rush of lust, she smelled lube and knew what was coming, Slowly, reluctantly, she lowered her arms. Brought them down, placed one on each cheek. Paused…

“Open,” he said.

As another rush of heat and shame ran through her, she spread her cheeks. Felt the pressure as he began to slide the butt plug into the narrow entrance. She was tense, and the plug hit resistance right away. She whimpered, knowing this was going to hurt.

He didn’t hesitate or move gently; he slid the plug in, pushing though the ring of resistance, and she cried out. It hurt so much, and pressed into the corner as she was, with him behind her, there was no way to avoid it.

As the plug fully penetrated, she cried out one more time. Then her body began to adjust and she felt the tension go, almost against her will, the softening of her body, opening to this invasion, and whatever else he wanted as well.

“Feel better?” he asked.

She felt so much. Relieved and grateful that she wasn’t fighting him anymore, humiliated that it had taken this step to help her let go.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he said.

She didn’t want to. It was embarrassing. Stupid. But –

“Feeling better,” she said. “Feeling – submissive. Obedient. Regret for how I acted.” She sighed. “Feeling like I probably need a spanking.”

“Good girl,” he said, and the warmth of his approval brought tears to her eyes.

“Thank you, Sir,” she said.

He grasped her hair at the nape of her neck, tugged gently. She shivered with pleasure.

To her dismay, he released her and stepped back.

“Ten minutes,” he said. “Hands back on your head, ten more minutes in the corner. Then you may ask for your spanking. Ask me nicely to give you a hard spanking. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said.

“After your spanking,” he said, “we’ll talk about why asking is so hard for you.”

“Yes, Sir.”

With a tiny sigh, she placed her hands on her head and settled into corner time.