Author's note: I am indebted to FyreHeart for invaluable editorial assistance. Of course, any remaining errors are solely my responsibility. Constructive criticism is welcome. If you really like this story and wish to let me know, I've got a praise kink, so that's welcome as well.
"Son of a bitch! Jan!"
Jan came to her door with apprehension. "Yes, Christy?"
"These figures are all wrong!" Christy beckoned Jan to the screen in front of her. "Just eyeballing this I can see these columns don't add up. And this" -- she pointed with the cursor -- "where did you get this? That should be at least ten times larger than what you've got here."
Jan bit her lip nervously. "Gosh, I don't know how I did that. I'm so sorry. I'll fix it."
"I can't believe you've gotten this so fucked up! What the hell's wrong with you?"
"I, I ..."
Christy looked up at Jan's stricken face and immediately knew she'd gone too far.
"I'm sorry, Jan. It's been a really hard past few weeks, and I'm taking it out on you. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. Let me take this back and I'll fix it."
"Please do. I need this for tomorrow morning, and it's already after five."
"I can stay late. I'll fix it. I'm sorry Christy."
"OK. Please triple-check it. I need these numbers to be rock solid for tomorrow's presentation."
"I understand. I'll make sure it's right. Maybe you should go home and get some rest for tomorrow?"
"That's probably a good idea. Thanks Jan, and I'm sorry I snapped at you."
"It's okay. Have a good night."
***
Christy was still feeling unreasonably angry at pretty much everyone and everything at once. Work had been incredibly stressful as her team prepared what was to be its biggest pitch in years. Success likely meant a promotion for her and sizable bonuses for everyone involved. She knew she needed to relieve her pent-up stress and frustration.
She knew she needed to
punish
someone.
Reaching for her phone, she texted her husband, Robert:
Heading home now. Be in position to greet me at the door. With your collar on.
Almost immediately she saw the telltale dots indicating he was typing. The reply came:
Yes, my Love.
Christy grabbed her bag along with a printed copy of her PowerPoint to review on the subway and left.
***
Her key turned easily in the lock. He'd undone the bolt to make it easy for her -- not unlike him to be so thoughtful. She smiled despite her mood.
Coming through the door, there he was: on his knees, eyes downcast, and naked but for his collar. He'd attached the leash, which he held up for her to take.
"I didn't ask for your leash. How did you know I wanted it?"
"I could hear it in your voice when you called earlier today, my Love. You've had a bad day, yes?"
"Yes." She grimaced. "A bad month actually. Stand up, feet apart and braced."
He stood, his tall, muscular body moving gracefully, eyes still downcast, and spread his legs wide apart, hands clasped behind his back. Christy's right foot swung out and landed on his balls. He winced but didn't make a sound.
As he braced himself again, Christy's foot came for his balls again, a bit harder this time. Again, he winced, with a barely audible grunt revealing his pain.
"One more." She stepped back half a pace.
Her foot came for him hard, dropping him back to the floor as he sucked air through his teeth. Christy hated it when he cried out, and he'd learned to master his pain.
Christy exhaled. "Good. You may look up at me."
For the first time that evening, Robert saw his wife's face. She looked tired and unhappy.