corner time reflections

 Eric stood naked in the corner, the soft hum of the room fading into the background. Time seemed to stretch into an eternity as he faced the wall, his mind racing. Standing there, his heart pounded in his chest, each second feeling heavier than the last. At 55, he was used to being in control—commanding respect as a successful md—but here, he was entirely at Tina’s mercy.

The warmth of the room felt stifling as he fought the urge to turn around and gauge her reaction. Would she be watching him? The thought sent a thrill of anxiety coursing through him. Just as he shifted his weight, the firm tone of her voice cut through the air.

“Eric, I didn’t tell you to move,” Tina scolded gently, yet the authority in her words sent a shiver down his spine. “Stay in the corner and remember your place. You’re here to learn submission.”

His cheeks burned with embarrassment. Why was this so hard? He thought he was ready for this. He had sought out Tina, hoping to explore the parts of himself he had kept hidden, yet this simple act of standing still was overwhelming. Each moment in silence was an invitation to confront the insecurities he had buried beneath layers of professionalism and bravado.

What did it mean to submit? As he stood there, facing the wall, he wrestled with the paradox of power and vulnerability. The corner felt like a physical manifestation of his emotional barriers, and he was both terrified and exhilarated to be forced to confront them.

Thoughts swirled in his mind. He remembered the conversations they had shared, the way she had encouraged him to embrace his feelings, to let go of the façade he wore every day. But now, in this moment, he felt exposed, like a child caught misbehaving. Could he truly allow himself to feel this way?

“Focus on your thoughts,” Tina instructed from behind him, her voice calm yet firm. “What are you feeling right now?”

He hesitated, the weight of her question pressing down on him. What was he feeling? Frustration, yes. But deeper than that was a sense of longing. Longing for release, for understanding, for the chance to break free from the expectations he had imposed on himself.

As the seconds ticked by, he felt the tension in his body mount. The urge to fidget was almost unbearable. What if he turned around? Would it be so wrong to want to see her? But each time he thought about moving, Tina’s voice echoed in his mind, reminding him of the rules they had established. “I am in control now,” she had said, and part of him craved that control.

Time dragged on. Ten minutes? Fifteen? He couldn’t tell. The clock on the wall felt like it had stopped, mocking him. Each passing moment amplified his internal struggle. He felt vulnerable and exposed, yet there was an odd comfort in that vulnerability. It was an acknowledgment of his humanity, the messy parts of himself he rarely allowed to surface.

“Remember, your job is to submit and do as you’re told,” Tina’s voice broke through again, steady and unwavering. “This is your chance to let go.”

Letting go. The phrase echoed in his mind like a distant promise. Could he truly do that? As much as he wanted to obey, a flicker of rebellion sparked within him. Wasn’t he supposed to be the one in control? But then he remembered her warmth, the way she had guided him gently through their previous sessions. She wasn’t just demanding submission; she was offering him a safe space to explore it.

With that thought, Eric took a deep breath, focusing on the sensation of the wall in front of him. It was solid and unyielding, a reminder that he was anchored in this moment, that he had the freedom to explore his feelings without judgment.

“Good,” Tina said, her tone approving. “Stay with those feelings. Embrace them.”

The heat of his embarrassment lingered, but with each passing moment, it began to transform. The sting of humiliation morphed into something more profound—an understanding of his own limitations, and a realization that this journey was about more than just submission. It was about acceptance, both of himself and the complex emotions he had hidden for so long.

As the minutes dragged on, Eric found a rhythm in his thoughts, allowing the vulnerability to wash over him. He wasn’t just standing in a corner; he was standing at the precipice of a new understanding of himself. The barriers he had built in his life began to feel less impenetrable, and he recognized that surrendering control didn’t equate to weakness.

Finally, Tina called him back, her voice warm and inviting. “You did well, Eric. Come here.”

He turned slowly, feeling lighter, as if he had shed some of the weight he had been carrying. Tina’s smile welcomed him back into her space, and he felt a surge of gratitude. “Thank you,” he said, his voice a mixture of relief and exhilaration.