If you are looking for a story with nudity and sex you may want to look for something else. This is a story purely about how it feels to be punished. I spend a lot of time writing and fantasizing about the pain and humiliation that comes with a punishment. Sometimes I think about being forced to be naked or spanked on the bare bottom but today I'm writing (and fantasizing!) about a corner time punishment. Here the narrator describes in detail what it feels like to be placed in a corner with instructions to remain quiet and still. And the fear of the consequences of breaking those instructions. Read on if you find this interesting.
Oh, and by the way, everyone in this story is over 21.
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"Julie, Corner time. Now."
My stomach drops at those words. I want to complain, "No, it's not fair!." I want to fall to my knees and beg, "Please no. I'll do anything else!" I want to fight, "It wasn't my fault!"
But I said none of those things. I know from experience that to do so would only lengthen my punishment. I quietly hang my head and slowly walk to what is known as the punishment corner in our house.
The punishment corner is in the front room. It is on the back wall across from windows that look over the sidewalk where anyone walking by can see a naughty girl or boy being punished. It is also opposite the front door where my housemates and their friends come in and out all the time. Corner time is anything but a private punishment.
I know what to do. I get in close enough to the corner so that my toes touch the baseboard along the floor and that my nose is only an inch from the crease that brings the two walls together. I place my hands on my head, interlocking my fingers--an elbow brushes against each wall. Leaning against the wall is forbidden so I make sure that they are barely touching.
I know what is expected of me. I am not to let my hands down. I am not to turn around or look anywhere but straight ahead. I am to remain both quiet and still. Breaking any of the corner time rules will result in a lengthier sentence. I don't want that, so my hands stay on my head and I try not to move.
I am immediately uncomfortable. With my hands clasped over my head, my shoulders are pushed back and I am forced to stand up straight. My toes touching the baseboard makes it even worse. There is no way to lean except backward. My legs, back, and arms are all stressed.
I am wearing a short skirt and a loose top. I am aware that with my arms up and my back straight, my skirt rides up in the back. I want to pull it down but my hands won't move from my head. I wish I had more comfortable shoes on.
Time passes slowly. I stare and the dull tan walls. To my left, I can see the side of a painting. To my right, I can see where the sunlight from the windows lands on the wall, reminding me that others outside can see me standing here. Other than that, there is nothing. At the moment there is no sound other than the quiet noise of cars going by. I wonder if anyone is in the room. I could be all by myself or my punisher could be sitting in a chair behind me. I want to look but don't dare.
I feel sorry for myself. I tell myself I don't deserve this punishment but I know that is not true. I was wrong and even though I wanted to fight for my freedom, deep down I know this is where I am supposed to be. It doesn't make me feel any better about being here.
I am supposed to be doing other things this morning. Now there won't be time to get everything done before I need to go to work. Other chores will have to get pushed to tonight after work when I wanted to go out. My day is all screwed up because of this punishment. I try to replan my day but can't think straight while I am standing here.
I wonder how long I have been here and how much time is left before I am freed from this prison of aches and boredom. Not knowing how much time has gone by makes the punishment that much worse. I try counting the seconds, knowing that if I hit sixty then one more minute has passed. I try to do it enough times to mark five minutes but my mind wanders and I can't keep count.
I hear movement behind me. Perhaps someone coming into the room? I sense someone is looking at me. Perhaps it is my punisher checking on me, or perhaps it is someone else, wondering why I am here in this position. Are they quietly laughing at me? Are they feeling sorry for me? Whoever it is, they are looking down at me as they would anyone who is being punished. I feel tiny right now.
It is quiet again and I wonder if anyone is still there. I didn't hear them leave so again, I don't know if I am alone. I desperately want to turn around. I want to see something other than those two damn walls. I want to face the person who is staring at me or see that I am in an empty room. But I don't dare. Adding to my time here would be horrendous.
Slowly I lean from foot to foot. I need to move my muscles as I am stiff. I don't hear a voice telling me to be still so I move my elbows slightly just to get the blood moving again. I stretch my neck. Either no one is there or whoever is there understands that I need to move around a little bit.
The light changes on the wall next to me and I hear the front door open. The room is filled with voices. It sounds like two people. I recognize a housemate's voice.
"Uh oh, it looks like someone is being punished"
