Go Kneel by Rex

Go Kneel by Rex


   Ten minutes she said. It seemed doable, my naivety led me to believe that I would have little to no issue
enduring that amount of time upon my knees with my arms outstretched. I did as I was told and chose a spot on my
vinyl floor, I got into position, and I started the timer. Perhaps I should not have, but I kept it close - watching the seconds as they rolled by. The first four minutes came and went relatively quickly, but as I continued to kneel there, I started to feel time gradually come to a standstill. Those same seconds that seemed to come and go so quickly, were now passing mockingly slow. The room was still, and the only thing to replace the absence of sound were the sensations I felt; the heaviness of my arms, the weight and warmth beneath my knees, and the irksome effort it took to remain poised and aligned.

Ten minutes she said, and I stared bitterly at the turning numbers that refused to go any faster, eagerly awaiting the moment of relief when I heard the pleasant chiming. Ten minutes kneeling with my arms outstretched seemed so achievable, maybe I didn't realize the lack of stimuli from other sources would result in a heightened sense of discomfort. Ten minutes felt like thirty, yet I did not move an inch, I knew I would be given reprieve when my time was up.

She said, "This is me being nice," so I imagined how it would be if she weren't so nice. That these ten minutes could actually be fifteen, or twenty, or even thirty - the prospect of this being the new normality made the awkward straining of my arms even more apparent. When I finally heard the sound of the timer I proceeded to roll my shoulders, stretch out my folded legs, and then rub the reddened surfaces of my knees with a tender hand. This was to be the new regime; if I misbehave, act rudely, or fuck, just if she thinks I need it she'll tell me to, "Go kneel."