She looked at him questioningly. He pointed down at the floor.
“Sorry, Sir, I forgot.” She went down on her knees before him, lowered her head and said, “Thank you for punishing me, Sir. I’ll promise to be a good girl in the future.”
That last sentence was an improvisation on her part. He emitted an appreciative laugh. “I’m sure you will, Ms. Bard. Now you can go home.”
* * * *
The weeks passed. Gradually she came to enjoy the job. Unlike her job at Omnicon there was no pressure, no deadlines, no putting in extra hours evenings and weekends to complete a project. Sometimes she had so little to do that she sat at her desk reading a book. And then there were the Friday afternoon canings. All week she looked forward to it. Afterwards she would hurry home impatiently, suffering the torture
