Recently my life has been centred around – or reduced to – one thing: finishing off my thesis. Every morning I crawl to my desk (upright walking being impossible after so many hours hunched over the blanket of papers that covers every surface in the house) and begin typing inspiring things like “See mutatis mutandis Smith v. Iceland (2010) 1009 EHRR 12 at 17″. Gripping stuff.
It takes a while to convince my head to start functioning every morning. This morning at breakfast I was cuddling my cup of coffee, convinced I would never, ever be able to type one more word again. Even thinking about going back to work made my eyes water a little bit.
“I can’t switch my brain on,” I complained to Abel.
He looked with me with due sympathy. And then he suggested:
“Maybe you need your bottom switching on? Would that help?”
Oh, I thought, a spanking! Why, that would take me out of the thesis misery for at least 10 minutes! It might even wake me up! I nodded several times with great enthusiasm.
He led me upstairs – by the hand, holding it gently, comfortingly. He sat on the bed and drew me over his lap. I hadn’t got as far as wearing any panties yet (panties at 8am don’t really happen), so he swept up my house dress and started smacking my bottom. It was a light spanking – as comforting as a long hug first thing in the morning. There was just enough sting to create a little cloud of warmth, but not enough to make me regret accepting his offer with so much enthusiasm. Little by little, my bottom was switching on.
In the end I got a proper long hug. I think it helped to switch on my brain in the end, too.