“I want you to go and stand in the corner while I work out how to deal with this.” Her voice was steady and assertive, and any anger she felt was disguised.
“NO!” Simon replied, in an equally firm voice, but with his anger barely concealed, “I’m not a child! We’ll sit down and discuss this like adults.”
“You will go and stand in the corner, Simon. Your behaviour has been childish so I’m going to treat you like a child. Go into the corner!”
“Look!” he shouted, “I’ve said I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have searched through your knicker drawer. It won’t happen again. Let’s just sit down and talk this through. You’re overreacting and that’s making matters worse.”
“You’re the one shouting, not me,” she calmly replied. “And I don’t appreciate your condescending tone of voice. You need a period of time to calm down and reflect, and you will do that while you’re in the corner.”
He was standing in the bedroom stark naked, having come out of the shower room only minutes earlier. On entering the bedroom, Emma had been sitting on the bed, firmly wrapped in a bathrobe, holding a pair of her black satin thong panties that she had taken from her lingerie drawer. Even before she had time to speak, Simon had found himself blushing. Somehow, he didn’t know how, she had discovered that he had worn them. Now he was trying to defend himself and avoid utter humiliation. He’d not had to stand in the corner since he was at junior school and he didn’t enjoy it much then. Perhaps if this was a game, it might have been fun to be sent into the corner by Emma, but this was clearly not playtime and she meant business. Yet he understood his predicament and he realised it had the potential to get much worse if all the truth came out. He judged it might be best to go along with her order, if only to defuse the situation. But first, he thought, one last attempt to gain the upper hand.
“Me standing in the corner will only delay our little chat,” he argued. “Why don’t we both get back into bed and work our way through this. Come on, darling! We can work this out, can’t we?”
“If you think you are sleeping with me before this is sorted out then you are sadly mistaken,” she retorted.
“But that’s what I want – us to sort this out,” he pleaded, his patience wearing thin. “I want us to deal with this like adults and that means talking to one another in a rational way.”
“Go and stand in the corner,” she repeated, pointing in the direction of the only empty corner in the room.
He decided to change tact in the hope of making light of the situation. “Why don’t you give me a spanking, Emma. That would be punishment. I could get over your knees.”
She had never spanked him before, so she had no idea where that idea had arisen from but evidently it was something else that he fantasised about. “We’ve been together for nearly a year – and you’ve lived in my house for two months – and I don’t know you at all, Simon. I don’t like what I’m hearing. I seem to be sharing my house – and my bed – with a pervert. You have one last chance to do what you’ve been told or else you pack your bags and go. What’s it to be?”
Simon recognised that suggesting a spanking had been a step too far. He also knew her threat wasn’t an idle one – she’d made it clear when he moved in that it was her house and her rules. If he was to save their relationship he had no choice but to comply with her demand. So, reluctantly, and feeling rather humiliated, he moved into the corner so that he was a foot away from the wall. At the very least he hoped this cooling off period would give him time to rescue the situation.
“No, Simon,” she said. “I want you to get closer. Toes touching the skirting board and nose touching the wall. Clasp your hands behind your back. You will stay there for thirty minutes. Keep very still! If you move or talk I’ll reset the clock.”
With deep concerns, he did as he was instructed, wondering what was going to happen after his time was up. How much damage had he caused to their relationship, he pondered. He couldn’t bear losing Emma and was intent on doing his utmost to repair any damage.
He stood quietly and as steadily as he could. This wasn’t like corner time at school, he recalled. There the miscreant would stand two or three feet from the corner, turning around whenever the opportunity arose to pull faces at the class. He didn’t want to risk misbehaving here, not with the mood that Emma was in.
The atmosphere was silent save for the occasional sound that bursa escort Emma made as she got dressed and did her hair and make-up. Simon tried to do his best to use his corner time to work out how to make amends with Emma but he didn’t find facing a blank wall to be conducive to developing a plan. Instead, he found himself thinking about how attractive Emma was and how devastated he would be if they split up. She was a gorgeous woman, two years his senior, and with a beautiful figure which she kept in shape from regular exercise. He knew he had to salvage the situation but didn’t know how.
After what seemed like an interminable period, there was some movement from behind and he heard a zip being pulled which he interpreted as her putting on her jeans. Simon tried to recall how long it normally took her to get this far. He was sure that he had spent more than thirty minutes facing the wall. More like an hour he thought. He wondered if she might have forgotten the time. Should he ask her if his thirty minutes were up? Fortunately for him, he thought the better of doing that and maintained his silence, praying that she wouldn’t keep him there for much longer. But still the time dragged on and he found himself counting seconds and then minutes, all the time feeling a growing inner restiveness which he had to stifle by keeping dead still.
Finally, Emma spoke. “You may turn around, Simon.” Having been only a couple of inches from the wall for so long, it took his eyes a few seconds to refocus. She was sitting on the bed wearing blue denim jeans and a red blouse. Her short blond hair had been carefully brushed and the light make-up applied to her face accentuated her natural beauty.
He went to move towards her, intent on sitting alongside. “No,” she said, firmly, “I want you to stay standing.”
“But can I get dressed, please?” he asked.
“No, I want you like you are,” she replied, “And put your hands behind your back.”
Emma could be very assertive, which was probably due to her legal training and the need to present herself forcefully in what were often male-dominated courtrooms. Simon looked rather subdued and she felt vindicated that thirty minutes in the corner had calmed him down. In reality, he was extremely tense but he feared so much for his relationship with Emma that his plan, if you could call it that, was to play it by ear and to let Emma start the talking.
She looked at him for a good thirty seconds before opening the dialogue. “Listen, Simon,” she said, “What I have discovered today has shocked me and I want to try to understand what’s been happening. You have to be completely honest with me. Do you understand? Is that clear?”
He nodded and she picked up the black panties that were still on the bed. He felt himself blush again. “Are you going to deny that you have been wearing these? If you tell me any lies, then you go back into the corner for another thirty minutes. It’s Saturday so we have all day if we need it. Do you agree that you have worn this thong?”
Simon replied with a nod. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” she responded.
“Yes,” he said meekly, after a moment’s hesitation.
“Well, let me hear you admit it properly. Say ‘Yes, Emma, I have worn your black thong.'”
His face turned a shade of scarlet as he repeated her words, “Yes, Emma, I have worn your black thong.”
“Good, now we are getting somewhere. Do you know what gave the game away?” she enquired.
“No,” he replied, wondering what she was getting at.
“They’re stained!” she announced, forcefully. She stood up and pushed the inside of the front panel to within a few inches of his face. “See,” she said. “White stains in knickers taken from a drawer of supposedly clean knickers. Did you jerk off in them?
“No, Emma, honestly I didn’t,” he exclaimed. He paused for a few seconds before adding, “They’re pre-cum stains, you know, they’re …”
“Yes, I know what pre-cum stains are, thank you very much. So you wore them, got aroused, leaked and then put them back in the drawer. Is that what happened?
He took a deep breath to control his rapid breathing. “Yes, darling. … I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“But how many times has it happened before, Simon?” she exhorted. “Do you normally avoid the dark coloured ones so the marks don’t show?”
“No! … I mean, … I’ve only ever worn that one pair.” He felt himself panicking because of her line of questioning.
“You’re lying, aren’t you?”
“Why bursa escort bayan would I lie?” he asked, trying to look as if his feelings had been hurt.
“Obviously because you don’t want to dig a deeper hole for yourself. Are you telling me that this is the first and only time you have ever worn my knickers? What about other girl’s knickers?” She gave him no chance to reply before she continued. “Are you saying that at the age of 30, you suddenly, and without any background with this fetish, developed a penchant for wearing female underwear? If that’s what you are saying then I don’t believe you. You don’t suddenly acquire this urge. You must have done this before. Well, say something!” She’d been spewing out words like a burst of machine gun fire but now it was his turn to speak.
He felt very uncomfortable and thought for a few seconds before replying. “Yes, I’ve done it before,” he slowly replied, his eyes focussed intently on a bit of fluff on the carpet, unable to look directly at Emma.
“Look at me! Let me see your shame and embarrassment!”
He looked up. “I’m sorry, darling,” he responded, tears welling in his eyes.
She continued with her relentless interrogation “Whose have your worn? If you tell lies, you are going back into the corner. Let’s have the truth first time for once!”
“My older sister’s when I was a teenager,” he replied. “She never found out. Please don’t tell her.”
Emma ignored his request. “And who else’s?” He hesitated momentarily before quietly replying, “My previous girlfriend’s – Sarah’s. She found out and that’s why she broke up with me. Please don’t break up with me Emma. I love you!”
“You said a minute ago that you had only ever worn one pair of mine. Was that the truth? Should I go and inspect my lingerie drawer? If you’ve been lying then it’s back into the corner.”
He took a deep breath. The last thing he wanted was to go back into the corner but her interrogation was merciless. “Sorry, Emma, I lied,” he said, deciding that honesty might be his best option. “I have worn others in the past.”
Calmly, she replied to him, “I told you not to tell me any lies. Go into the corner for another 30 minutes and then we’ll try again.”
This time, feeling defeated and dejected, he did as he was told without question or argument. For the second time that morning he underwent his childish punishment, wondering to himself what more Emma would manage to winkle out of him. If time seemed to stand still last time, then now it appeared to go backwards. Never in his life had thirty minutes taken so long. As a punishment, this was very effective. But what concerned him more was that his attempts so far to mend their relationship had only made matters worse.
“Right,” announced Emma after the half hour had passed. “Turn around and we will try again. How often have you worn my knickers?”
He swallowed hard. “I do it two or three times a week,” he replied, his cheeks all aglow.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “How do you find the time?”
“I usually do it when you go to your aerobics classes in the evenings. I wear them for a couple of hours while you’re out.”
She was clearly puzzled that she hadn’t spotted this before and seeing her quizzical expression he explained, “I usually take them out of the dirty laundry bag.”
“Usually?” she asked. “So that means that sometimes you don’t?”
He hesitated. “Sometimes I wear your clean ones but I put on an unlubricated condom to contain any leakage.” He was now blushing intensely as he gave away his sordid secrets. “I’m really sorry, Emma!”
“So what happened this time?” she asked, holding up her black thong.
“I ran out of condoms,” he replied. “I wrapped my penis in a tissue but I guess some stuff must have leaked through and I didn’t notice.”
“How very careless,” she muttered sarcastically. Going over to her drawers, she opened the middle one and took out a black bra. “Do you wear my bras as well?”
He flushed. “No! …. They’re not my size.”
“Not your size!” she mimicked in a mocking tone. “And what exactly is your size?”
“I mean they look too small. You’re thinner than me. They wouldn’t fit me. And I wouldn’t wear them. Honest!”
“What size am I?”
“You’re a 36C,” he replied.
“So you’ve checked the labels to find out? And what size are you?”
“I don’t know! How would I know?”
“You’re lying again, aren’t you? You know what size you are – at least you know your escort bursa band size although I guess you don’t have a cup size. So I will ask you again. What size are you?
He swallowed hard, fearful of what was to come. “38,” he meekly answered. “I prefer a 38C.”
“Back into the corner,” she announced with a tone of finality. “I won’t have you lying to me.”
So for the third time that morning, Simon found himself standing very close to a blank wall for thirty minutes of sheer boredom. He desperately wanted the time to end so that he could repair his wrecked relationship although he still could not see a way out. Emma had a way of knowing when he was lying but the more the truth came out, the worse his predicament became.
His thoughts were disturbed as Emma said, “Time to start again, Simon. Turn around.”
She waited for him to stand in front of her as she sat on the bed again. “Right! I’m going to take it as read that you have worn a bra in the past. I assume you don’t deny that?
“No, darling,” he replied.
“Don’t you call me darling!”
He hesitated, feeling very flustered “… Sorry, .. Emma.”
“Have you ever worn my bras?”
He stared at the floor, his silence betraying his guilt.
She continued, “I take it that’s a yes, then? But you said they were too small?”
“They are, but I can just about make them stretch.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” exclaimed Emma. “Not content with just soiling my panties, you have also been stretching my bras. That certainly explains one or two things. How much worse can this get. What else of mine do you wear?
“Your clothes don’t fit me, Emma.”
“Well, you manage to get my panties on and also my bras. What about my skirts? Have you ever worn one of my skirts?”
He paused, looking down again. “A couple of times,” he replied honestly. “But they don’t do up properly.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” she mocked. “How thoughtless of me to buy the wrong size. What else have you worn that belongs to me?”
Again he hesitated considering how to reply. Emma detested this delay. “You’re working out what lie you can get away with, aren’t you?”
“No, Emma! Honestly, I’m not. I’m just thinking. Er… I’ve worn your tights!”
“So, when I’m not here you usually mince around the house wearing my panties, bra and tights. Is that right?”
“Yes … no! You’re getting me confused, Emma. I wear them but I don’t mince around. Usually I put trousers and a shirt on top – my trousers and shirts! – not yours!”
“That’s meant to make me feel better is it? Do you ever leave the house dressed up?”
Without hesitation, he replied “No, Emma. I’ve never done that because I’d be too embarrassed. What would happen if I had an accident and was taken to hospital?”
“What would happen if you fell down the stairs inside the house and were taken to hospital? Would that be less embarrassing?” He hadn’t thought of that.
“Have you ever worn my lingerie while I have been here?”
“Once,” he said. “You’d gone shopping for clothes and got back early. I didn’t hear you arrive until you came in the front door and asked me to help carry in the bags from your car. I didn’t have time to change but fortunately I wasn’t wearing a bra.”
“Lucky you!” she replied. “But you told me a few minutes ago that you’d never left the house dressed. Now you tell me you went outside to bring stuff from my car. You were lying again so back into the corner for another thirty minutes.”
This time he felt compelled to respond. “But, Emma, I wasn’t including just popping out to the car. I was talking about going to work or the pub wearing lingerie. You must have misunderstood.”
“I understood perfectly,” she replied. “Go back into the corner – it’s now 45 minutes you’ll be spending there unless you want me to increase it to an hour?”
Shamefaced, he made his way back to the corner knowing that further arguments were futile.
“I’ve heard all I want to hear and I need to get a breath of fresh air so I’m going for a walk.” He heard her open a drawer and, a few seconds later, she pulled his wrists together and tightly bound them with a pair of her pantyhose. Then, taking the black thong, she inserted it between his nose and the wall. “If that’s on the floor when I get back then I’ll know you’ve fidgeted,” she explained. “With your hands tied behind your back there’s no way you can pick it up again so make sure it doesn’t fall.”
“And don’t think this brings the matter to a conclusion,” she added. “I’m going to think of how you should be punished!” With that, she left the room, pulling the door firmly shut, and leaving Simon to contemplate his fate and reflect on his wretched day.