I sit in my office and try to work, but I am distracted. I am thinking about the paddle that I bought this morning. It is my bag, nestled there where no one can see it. I am thinking about my new rules and how I will handle them in the future.
My cheeks are already burning in anticipation of the punishment that I will face tomorrow night. The anticipation is the worst. He has grown calm and determined about my punishment in the last few days. He is not angry, but he is serious about what happened and ensuring that it never happens again. He is serious that I learn my lesson and that I take on the new burdens that he has set out for me.
I wonder how many hits with the paddle I will receive, then I quickly put this thought out of my mind. I must remember to breathe, I must repeat my rules to myself to keep calm, but I cannot panic. I cannot worry about how much more of the pain I will have to bear.
I receive an e-mail from my friend Anne, who wants to meet me for drinks after work next week. I am ready for this. I do not respond right away. Instead, I forward her e-mail to Him and ask if it is okay for me to meet with her. I wait impatiently, drumming my fingers on my desk as I will him to respond that I may.
I sit there, waiting, wondering, worrying, anticipating, fretting, dreaming.
My assistant comes into my office from the outer office area with a file for my meeting and I put all of these thoughts away. I close my e-mail and hope that there will be a response from him when I return. I stand up behind my desk and straighten my hair in an attempt to look pulled together, like the serious businesswoman that I am supposed to be. I take the file and, stepping over my bag with the paddle in it, I head toward my meeting.