I was folding the laundry when my master called me into his office. He sat at his desk with a hard look on his face. His personal assistant, Jill, sat on a corner of the desk in a short pencil skirt and half unbuttoned blouse, her long, perfect legs crossed at the knee and her blonde hair up in a bun.
"Anabelle," he began. "I am disappointed in you."
My heart sank and I dropped my gaze to the floor.
"Do you know why I am disappointed in you?"
I thought furiously. I hadn't served him any food cold or overdone for some time. I had kept the house clean. I hadn't balked at any of his commands. There had to be something.
I nervously smoothed my hands over my skirt. Today it had pleased my master to dress me as a schoolgirl in a short, plaid, pleated skirt, white stockings with shiny black shoes, a short sleeved button up shirt, and pigtails. My master loved me in pigtails.
I finally had to admit defeat and shook my head.
"I don't know, Sir."
"Look at me when I'm speaking to you," he snapped, and I raised my gaze but didn't meet his eyes.
"Do you have any idea how long it's been since you wrote a story?" he questioned sternly.
That took me by surprise.
"I- I..."
"Jill, how long has it been?"
She consulted her notepad.
"Almost nine months, Sir," she told him.
"Nine months, Anabelle. Nine months! That is unacceptable!"
"I- I'm sorry, Sir. I'll get started on one right away..."
"That will not do," he interrupted me. "Don't think you can just apologize and go on your merry way. No, you have to be punished for this."
"Y-yes, Sir. Of course."
"Come here." He patted his leg. I approached him and stood somewhat uncertainly. Then he suddenly turned me over his knee, flipping me upside down so fast that I lost my breath. He flipped up the back of my skirt and smoothed a hand over my exposed bottom.
"Now, you know why I'm going to do this?"
I nodded.