|Reading for class.|
"You look distracted. Come here, young lady."
I'm supposed to be reading for grad school. Instead, I'm on my phone scrolling through social media apps, Whatsapp, and various other applications that require fewer brain cells than it takes to read psychology journals.
He sits down in the middle of the couch and grabs my hand. He pulls me from my perch on the end, and tosses me over his lap before I can let loose my list of woes about the monotony of grad school work and the necessity of taking breaks. Instead, I'm facedown in light blue microfiber, contemplating the irony of being spanked (itself, a distraction) for being distracted. How am I supposed to get any reading done like this?!
He starts spanking me. It's very light, and it's making me squirmy, cause he's mostly just scolding me a lot for being distracted from my homework. He pulls down my pants and underwear and gives me dozens of smacks on my bare bottom, scolding me the entire time about how, if I don't get all this reading done before my class, I'll get it even worse--but only after I finish all my reading.
Then he stops and inspects my bottom. He lightly touches and comments on bruises that are still there from playing a few days ago. Then he asks me questions that I'm very grateful only require a "yes sir" and not coherent sentences. And then he lets me up.
At which point, my brain is supposed to be working well enough to read scientific journals?? This has been a most inconvenient distraction for my rational grad school brain.
But not un-welcomed.