“Yes, baby. I’d love it if you called me oppa. When you’re ready. When you think I’ve earned it.”
She snuggles in with a happy sigh. “You’ve earned it today, Oppa.”
I close my eyes in bliss.
seventeen
There’sno bliss sitting against the door of my closet the next morning, listening to Cynnie’s soft sobbing.
She’s been in the closet for ten minutes. I’ve watched her each second through the camera I’ve stuck on the closet wall that’s feeding into my phone. My eyes are burning, and not because I’ve been staring at the phone without blinking.
I’ve hated every second of her punishment so far; I’m not sure how much more I can take.
Cynnie’s sitting on a pillow. I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable, just isolated. She’s drawn up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. Her head’s tilted against the closet wall. She started sniffling after five minutes, crying after eight. I’d planned to keep her in there for thirty minutes, but I’m not sure I can endure another five.
I tap my phone and text Jack.
What happens if I cut her punishment short?
The gray dots immediately bounce.
Jack: If she’s in distress, cut it short. If she’s not, you look weak. She needs you to be strong so she feels safe.
I grind my teeth as I respond.
Okay.
Jack sends me a thumbs up emoji. The dots bounce again.
Jack: Fucking sucks, doesn’t it? Punishment hurts us way more than them.
I rub my fingers over my forehead, which is brewing a nice tension headache.
I don’t want to do this. We had a great day yesterday. Great night. Great talk. Why am I doing this?
Jack’s name pops up on the screen as the phone buzzes with an incoming call.
“Walk away from the closet so she can’t hear us,” he says, without any greeting, which works for me.
I climb up off the floor and cross my loft to the stairs. “How’d you know I was sitting next to the closet?” I ask.
“Because that’s where I sit when I put Sammi in the closet. He’s my boy. Do you really think I’m such a dick that I’m not suffering when he’s in there?”
“No, sorry, man. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Jack blows out a breath. “It’s okay. The first couple of punishments can make you crazy. Hell, punishment still makes me crazy occasionally. But you’re doing it for the right reasons. She needs you to set boundaries and be firm about enforcing them.”
“Not because she hurt me so I’m hurting her back? Because that’s what this feels like.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” he asks.
“Yes. No. Fuck it, Jack. I don’t know. I wanted a punishment that would make her feel the way I felt. But I hate that she’s in there crying, and I can’t comfort her.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “I get that, but I think you’ve got to stick it out. How long did you tell her she was in the closet for?”
“I didn’t. I just told her I’d turn off the music when she could come out. Playlist is thirty minutes.”
“Try to stick out the thirty. If you just can’t deal, turn off the music at twenty-five. But you’ll feel better about yourself and the punishment if you can go the distance.”
