The corner was white. Not white with a trim, not white with
faded spots, not beige. White. The plainest, least interesting color in the
entire color spectrum, and of course Hayden would have to spend more than an
hour of his Friday night looking at it.
It wasn’t an exaggeration. Hayden was wearing his watch; he
had been sent here at 8:43 PM exactly, and it was now 9:50. Mr. Disgruntled was
not within hearing range, and when Hayden sneaked a look behind him he was not
in the room. Hayden strongly considered quitting his punishment. He didn’t
exactly agree that he needed punishment anyways, and even if he did, an hour in
the corner with no end in sight seemed a bit excessive. But Hayden had a nasty
streak of obedience that made him quite the doormat, so the idea of being
caught later (who knows how much later) outside of the corner frightened him
more than staying.
But his legs were beginning to ache, and his feet, which had
already hurt due to a long day at work, were starting to throb painfully. And
all because he hadn’t called to say he’d be working an extra shift? Hayden
specifically remembered when Gina, his boss, had called him on Wednesday and
asked him to work. He and Mr. Disgruntled had been lying in bed, and Mr.
Disgruntled had gotten a bit disgruntled that Hayden was receiving a phone
call. Hayden had gotten off the phone as quickly as possible and said to Mr.
Disgruntled, “Honey, I’ll be working late on Friday.” Mr. Disgruntled had
grunted in response and proceeded to fuck him. But now Mr. Disgruntled claimed
that he didn’t remember, and that the burden of proof was on Hayden, who should
have taken more steps to inform Mr. Disgruntled of the situation.
Hayden snuck a glance at his watch. 9:58. Was Mr.
Disgruntled even in the house? Hayden had heard him go downstairs, but could
Hayden’s Top have actually left the house mid-punishment? The thought sent
chills through Hayden’s body, but he didn’t have the guts to check.
Hayden continued staring at the blank wall. It was still as
boring as ever. He tried to use the time to plan out his weekend, but realized
he couldn’t – Mr. Disgruntled was the one to give the last say on what Hayden
did. Hayden wanted to go hiking, and
the weather was supposed to be beautiful, but Mr. Disgruntled usually (read,
always) said no to hiking—“too dangerous”. Hayden did have to do a few errands
because they needed some groceries, so Hayden could wake up early and do that.
Then he could maybe watch a movie, just laze around…
“It’s my
responsibility to ensure you are healthy and active!”
The words rang through Hayden’s head painfully as he
remembered the last time he’d tried to veg during a weekend. His Top had laid
the hammer down on that idea. Hayden always had to be using his mind or his
body in a productive way, or else he was wasting his potential. Hayden
recognized the wisdom in Mr. Disgruntled’s regulation, but sometimes he thought
recharging after a tiring week could be just as important as being active.
“But if I can’t go hiking, what the hell am I supposed to do?” Hayden wondered aloud. He couldn’t hike, or go running outside. Mr. Disgruntled had kindly provided Hayden with a membership to a nearby gym, to which Hayden was supposed to go at least four times a week. The gym was just as boring as the house; a few treadmills and elliptical machines, and some mats for stretching and crunches, all within a beautiful white color scheme. Hayden had already gone four times this week because he loved to move around, but what he really wanted was to be outside. He was sick of being stuck inside, staring at white walls while he followed the regulations of his Top.
Give it up,
Hayes. This is your life. You’re a brat. You can’t live without the structure. Even when it’s
stifling, you just have to remember that you were worse off before you ever had
a Top. And a whole lot fucking skinnier.
10:07. The walls were still white.
Hayden was fed up with it. He started out quietly:
“Garfield? Are you here?” Hayden asked in a voice barely above a whisper. There
was no response. “Garfield?” Hayden asked louder, in case he was out in the
hallway. There was still no response. Hayden finally moved out of his corner,
stepped around the spare bed, and poked his head out into the hallway.
“Garfield?” Hayden asked, almost in a yell. “Are you up here?”
Hayden continued tiptoeing out into the hallway, sliding his
hand along the banister towards the stairway. “Garfield?” Hayden yelled in a
voice he knew would be loud enough to be heard downstairs.
Almost immediately after, Hayden heard footsteps walking
through the kitchen. He couldn’t deny the relief he felt at knowing that
Garfield hadn’t left the house. Hayden peeked over the banister and saw a
familiar figure walking up the stairs. “Get back in your corner,” Garfield
said, his voice not hiding any anger. Hayden gulped, glad he had gotten
Garfield’s attention but afraid of what would happen to him now.
Hayden resumed his place in the corner as Garfield entered
the room. “What exactly do you think you’re doing, leaving your punishment?”
Garfield asked.
It felt weird to respond to Garfield while staring at a
blank wall. “I-it’s been a really long time…”
“And? I don’t recall ever agreeing to let you choose the
length of your punishment.”
“But Garfield, I really want to go to bed!”
“Well then maybe you’ll remember in the future to tell me
when you’re going to be late, hm?”
“Garfield, I did,
I told you on Wednesday—“
Hayden’s
excuse was cut off with a sharp smack to Hayden’s posterior. “You say you did,
but I think you were deliberately trying to deceive me! Telling me while we
were in the middle of fooling around? That is the same thing as a lie; you had
to have known I wouldn’t remember. So any more excuses, boy, and I’ll make sure
you don’t sit for the rest of the weekend.”
Hayden
whimpered, which Garfield usually didn’t like, so Garfield swatted him again.
“I suggest you shut up, stop with the whining, and take some time to really
think about why you’re here.”
Hayden
felt a sense of despair when Garfield left the room again. This is how it is with brats, Hayden reminded himself. Brats got
punished by Tops. It was the natural way of things. Tops and brats complemented
each other and helped each other grow.
But if living with a Top is
supposed to complete me, why do I feel so goddamn empty?
