Procrastinator's Oblivion
by Mackenzie
“So what are you going to do?”
Heath’s words played through my mind on repeat as I sat in
front of my computer screen, facing yet another blank page at 2:00 in the
morning.
“Tell me”, he said, as he smacked me with that damn
paddle over and over again. “What are
you going to do?”
“I’ll do my homework
on time! I won’t procrastinate!” I promised, screaming at the top of my lungs.
“And?” he asked, slapping me again with that damn thing. “What else?”
“I’ll take care of myself.”
“And how are you going
to do that?” I didn’t answer, but sobbed
instead. I don’t think he liked that.
“How are you going to do that?” he asked again, this time enunciating
more harshly. I still remained silent. “Hmm, Kristy? Tell me, what are you
going to do?” He smacked me again with the paddle. “Do I have to get the belt?”
“No!” I screamed, “No!”
“Then tell me what you’re going to do.” He hit me again.
“I’m going to do my
homework on time! I won’t procrastinate! I’ll go to sleep at a reasonable hour!
I’ll eat healthier!”
“That’s what I want to
hear,” he said, slapping me again and again. “Just a little more to drive this
lesson home. I don’t want to do this again. Do you understand me, Kris?”
“Yes, sir.”
“If I find out that
you haven’t improved, the spanking you get will be much worse. Do you
understand me?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good,” he said,
slapping me one more time with the paddle. “Get up. Stand in the corner. Don’t
come out until I tell you to.”
It had been about 2 weeks ago that I’d gotten that spanking.
And as I sat there in front of my computer at 2:00 in the morning, with a
7-page paper due in less than 10 hours and nothing written, I realized that if
Heath found out he was going to kill me, which he would probably do anyway, as
I’d been ignoring all his calls and e-mails checking in on me.
I mean, it’s not like my first drafts are that awful, and
it’s not like it takes me that long to write a paper once I get started. I’m an English major. I’ve mastered the art
of bullshitting. I can write just about anything for a class and still end up
with a C on it when I’m at my worst. The problem was, I was capable of being a
4.0 student. If I was actually motivated, I probably could have gotten into an
Ivy League college. I could have gone to Brown or Harvard or Yale. But instead
I ended up going to college an hour away from home. It wasn’t a bad school, but
it wasn’t Ivy League. Like I said, motivation issues. And Heath, my mentor, was
determined to turn me into the student and person that he knew I could be, that
I knew I could be. So why was I sitting here at 2:00 in the morning with
nothing written for a paper that was worth a fifth of my grade?
At least he doesn’t
know that I’ve been skipping classes, I thought. Then I shuddered, thinking
about what would happen if he did. My spankings were bad enough as it was. I
didn’t want to think about how Heath would react if he knew that I was also
skipping classes almost every week.
“You know you can do better,”
Heath told me. “You’re an intelligent
young woman. Why aren’t you acting like it?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
“Don’t you want to be
successful? Don’t you want to write for a living? Isn’t that why you came to
college? So you’d understand your craft better?”
“Yes, sir,” I whispered again.
“You can do so much
better than this. I want you to forget about what everyone else has ever told
you and listen to me. You are an intelligent young woman and if you’d just put
your mind to it, I guarantee you that you could be one of the greats.” He
paused, looking me in the eye, “But what have you been doing instead?”
“Slacking off,” I said.
“And in the process
you’ve jeopardized your future and your health. Well, we’re going to fix that
today, Kristy. Over my knee, now, and no whining. You don’t want to make this
worse than it already is.”
My phone vibrated. I looked down at it to see one text
message, from Heath. Why hadn’t I noticed that before?
We need to talk. ASAP. Call me in the morning.
I groaned, for two reasons. First, because I now realized
that within the next 24 hours or so (because it was a weekend), I’d inevitably
be receiving a far worse spanking than I’d gotten 2 weeks prior to this date.
Second, because it dawned on me that with this new revelation, there was no way
I was going to be able to get this paper done. So I opened my e-mail, sent one
to my teacher asking for an extension and hoped for the best, going to bed
afterwards because I knew that if I showed up at Heath’s place the next day
also sleep-deprived, I would be in even worse trouble than I already was.
I woke up the next morning to the sound of my phone
vibrating. “What?” I groaned, half asleep. Then I looked at the clock; it read:
12:30; and picked up my phone. Heath. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” Not
only had I overslept for my class but I’d also forgotten to call Heath.
“Hello,” I answered, trying to sound as awake as possible.
“Didn’t I tell you to call me
this morning, Kris? Why didn’t you?”
“Because I overslept.”
“How late did you stay up last
night?”
“Um… not too late?”
“Kristy, how late did you stay up last night?” he said
again, this time with more authority in his voice.
“I didn’t fall asleep until
about 3:45, okay?”
He sighed, exasperated. “What
time was your first class?”
“You’re gonna be furious,” I
whispered.
“I’m already furious. You may as
well tell the truth.”
“I missed it, okay. It was at
11:00.”
“Didn’t you have a paper due for
that class?”
“Sorta.”
“How do you just sorta have a paper due for class?” He
waited for me to respond and when I didn’t, “Wait, did you just not do it?”
“I asked for an extension,” I
whined.
“And did she grant it to you?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I
haven’t checked yet.”
“Kristy, I want you to come here tonight, straight after
your next class. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, sir,” I muttered.
“And don’t even think about missing your next class. Do you
understand me, young lady?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, I’ll see you in a few
hours.”
“Bye, Heath,” and with that he
hung up.
I shuddered and started thinking about what had happened the
last time. Why hadn’t I thought about what would happen until now? Was I
stupid? Did I really think I could get away without even trying to improve? He
was right. I was smart. So what the hell was I doing with my time?
Youtube videos. Crazy
cat antics. Ellen DeGeneres. The books that I wasn’t supposed to read. Japanese
mangas. Stardust. American Gods. Carrie. Eat Pray Love. National Geographic.
Stories about the dying rainforest. Calvin and Hobbes. Facebook. The New
Yorker. Literary magazines. The occasional fairy tale. Chinese dramas. He
couldn’t argue that most of what I was doing was educational, could he?
I guessed that Heath would have
a different answer to that.
“You are so much
better than this.” I kept hearing Heath’s voice in my head, the entire day,
replaying the last time I had seen him even as I was sitting in class. I tried
to pay attention. But I couldn’t. It didn’t even matter that this was my
favorite class. I just couldn’t get myself to participate in the discussion on The Picture of Dorian Gray, which was a
book I loved. I hoped my teacher didn’t notice. If he asked, I’d just claim
that I’d been having a bad day, which wasn’t really far from the truth. But it
was about to get a lot worse.
“Get up,” Heath demanded, “and get me the paddle.”
“No,” I whined.
“Do you want something
else too, Kris? Because it’s about to be a lot worse if you don’t do as I say.
Now go get me the paddle and come back here,” he smacked me twice as he stood
me up. I complied and went over to the drawer where he kept his implements for
me, drawing out the paddle I knew he would want, long and thick, 8 holes, 4 on
each side, and handed it to him. “Good girl. Back over my knee.” He guided me
over his lap and restrained my legs. I started crying, and reached out for his
left hand for comfort. “I’m only doing this for your own good, Kris. I
promise,” and with that he raised the paddle, and I screamed out in bloody
murder, squeezing his hand and trying not to reach back.
“I expect you to be here by 5:00,” he said to me over the
phone as I was packing my duffel bag. I’d undoubtedly be spending the night.
“Call me if you’re going to be late. And don’t use your phone while you’re
driving. I don’t want you to get into an accident, okay?”
“Okay, Heath. I won’t use my
phone unless I’m off the road. I promise.”
“Good. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Yeah, see you in a bit,” I whispered, and hung up the
phone, already remorseful. Though, I doubted that being remorseful would matter
any.
Heath lived about 30 minutes away from me, on the other side
of town. We’d actually met in an English class. At the time, he was a super
senior, having taken the fifth year to complete his degree, and I was a
sophomore. We’d hit it off right away, becoming good friends in a matter of about
a week. We started hanging out with each other and it was only by accident that
the topic of spanking had come up. The fact that he might also be part of the
community had never crossed my mind. People like me were so hard to find. I’d
given up hope of ever finding a mentor who wasn’t also interested in taking
advantage of me. It seemed like they didn’t exist. Then I found Heath and he
started mentoring me. Now, I was a junior in college, and it felt like I’d
known him forever. After all, there wasn’t much I could think of that he didn’t
know about me.
As I drove, I listened to NPR, hoping that maybe I could
focus my mind on something other than what I knew was about to happen. On any
ordinary day, I’d find the interviews, eclectic music and stories of Middle
Eastern conflict fascinating. Growing up, I’d always been the girl with my nose
in a book, the attentive listener. I was fascinated with learning everything I
could and usually soaked up information like a sponge. Unfortunately, I also
had issues with accepting authority. If someone told me to read something or to
do something, I automatically didn’t want to do it. That’s something else Heath
and I had been working on. I’d recently become more compliant in my spankings,
but only because I wanted to be better and didn’t want to disappoint Heath. I’d
looked my entire life for someone like him and I didn’t want to screw that up.
Not now.
I sighed as I turned down Heath’s road and pulled up to his
driveway. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I looked at the clock on my phone. 5:00.
Right on time. “Here we go,” I muttered as I grabbed my duffel bag from the
passenger side of the car and walked up to the front door of his house. I
didn’t even have to knock. He was already standing there, a look of
disappointment spread across his face. “Come in,” he said, opening the door to
his living room.
“Hi,” I said, giving him a
slight smile and looking up at him as if to say, I’m sorry.
He hugged me and rubbed my back, kissing the top of my head.
“Go put your stuff in the guest room. Wait for me there. I’ll be in in just a
moment.”
I nodded and walked down the hall to a room that was
essentially mine. Heath didn’t have any other mentees. If anyone else ever used
this room, it was his family when they came to visit, maybe another friend here
or there. But seeing as I spent more time with him than anybody else, I doubted
if there were too many other people who slept in this room and definitely no
one else who got spanked in it. Ugh, that word. I sat down on the bed and
started biting my fingernails, realizing what I had coming to me.
“You’re better than this. What happened to the Kris I know?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know what you’re
worth, Kristy. So go out and get what you’re worth. Stop fooling around like
this,” he lifted his hand and started spanking again.
The door opened and I almost
jumped out of my skin. “Oh, hi,” I muttered.
Heath lifted my duffel bag off the bed and sat down next to
me. “What am I going to do with you?” I didn’t answer, assuming it was a
rhetorical question. “So why haven’t you been answering any of my calls or
e-mails?”
“I’ve been busy.” I looked down
at my hands, refusing to look him in the eye.
“Really? Too busy to have a few 5 minute conversations with
me here and there? I was just calling to check up on you. Were you afraid of
something?” I didn’t answer. “Could it be that you haven’t been doing what we
agreed upon?” Again, no answer. “I asked you a question, Kristy.”
“No.”
“No? No what, Kristy?”
“No, I haven’t been doing what
I’m supposed to be doing.”
“You’ve been procrastinating?” I
nodded. “Did your teacher give you the extension?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, at least you have that going for you.” He paused.
“What else haven’t you been doing? I heard you stayed up late again last night.
Is that pretty typical?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And how late have you been
staying up on a regular basis?”
“Until 4:00 some days. 2:00 on
others,” I whispered.
“Is that because you wait to do your homework until the last
minute?” I nodded. “Well that stops today. Do you hear me?” I nodded again.
“What about eating?”
“Heath, please, do we have to
talk about this?”
“Kris, I’m not going to ask you again. Have you been eating
like you’re supposed to?” I shook my head. “And why not?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have
time.”
“Make the time. Do you hear me?” I nodded. “Okay. Stand up.
Go to the corner, hands on your head. Feet against the wall.” I stood up but
hesitated. He grabbed my arm and smacked me a few times over my jeans. “You
heard me. To the corner, now.”
“Heath, please,” I begged,
turning around, “be reasonable.”
“If this isn’t reasonable, Kris, then I don’t know what is.
You’ve deliberately disobeyed the rules we agreed upon. And you’ve jeopardized
your school, your future and your health yet again. Now stand in the corner,
hands on your head, thinking about the punishment I’m about to give you and how
you’re going to avoid it in the future. Don’t make me tell you again.” He
smacked my bum one more time.
I whined but obeyed him, hands on my head, and stood there,
waiting for my imminent doom, thinking about what was about to happen. As I
stood there, I heard him rustling around in the drawer, probably trying to find
a suitable instrument. 15 minutes went by and I was shaking the whole time.
“You can do better than this. You know you can do better.”
“Okay, Kristy, come here,” he
said.
I turned around and walked towards him, only to see that
god-awful hairbrush and the evil spoon sitting next to him on the bed. “No,” I
whined, stamping my foot on the ground.
“Shh, Kris,” he said, putting a finger up to my lips to hush
me. “Stop your squirming. Listen to me, okay? This is what’s going to happen. I’m
going to take you over my knee and give you a warm up over your jeans. I’ll
lift you up and take your pants down. I’ll spank you over your panties but
after that, everything is going to be bare-bottomed.” I whined. “Don’t even try
to get out of this. You’ve known you had this coming for a long time. Didn’t
you?” I nodded. “Then take it like a big girl, okay?” I nodded again. “I’m also
going to spank you with the hairbrush and the belt.” He picked up the spoon.
“And I’m going to give you a few strokes with this to remind you of what’s
going to happen the next time we have to go over this. But there’s not going to
be a next time, is there?”
“No, sir.”
“Okay, come on. Over my lap.”
“Heath, I’m sorry!”
“I know you are, but that
doesn’t change anything.”
“But,” I started.
“Do you want extras?”
“No, sir.”
“Then over my lap. Now.” He helped me over and restrained my
legs with his. Rubbing my back for a bit, he began his lecture again. “Do you
remember when you told me what your professors were saying about you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you know that you can do better. You’re barely
managing a 2.8 and yet your teachers are still telling you that you’d do well
in graduate school and that you’re an asset to the department. Can you imagine
what they would say if you actually put effort into what you were doing, Kristy?”
He began spanking me, from one side to another. I started whimpering. “And what
is it with the sleep deprivation and starving yourself? How many hours of sleep
should you be getting, Kristy?”
“I don’t know, sir,” I
whispered.
“You don’t know, really?” I could tell he was shaking his
head at me. “Well, we’ll see if you know after this.” He gave me some really
hard spanks. “Do you want to try that again?”
“More than what I’m getting.”
“Let’s try about 6 to 8. How
many are you getting now?”
“Probably about 3 to 5.”
“That’s also stopping today. Do you hear me? You’ll be going
to bed early tonight.” He started hitting my thighs.
“Heath! Please, stop! I’ll do
better! I promise!”
“I know you will, especially
after I’m through with you.”
“Heath…” I whined, reaching my
hand back to block the spanking.
“Kris, stop it right now. I can go all night, and I will if you don’t
stop.”
I put my hands back in front of me and bit down on my lip,
trying to stifle my screams as Heath slammed his hand against my backside over
and over again.
“Get up,” Heath said after a couple of minutes, grabbing my
hands and lifting me up on his own. “Pull down your pants.”
I reluctantly complied, standing on my shaky legs, quivering
as I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down to my knees. “That’s good,” said
Heath, pulling me gently back towards him. “Come on, back over.”
Heath pulled me over his knee, and lifted his hand up again,
palm hitting against my already tender flesh repeatedly and I was reminded once
again of my last spanking and how I’d managed to end up here, once again. I was
getting too old for this crap.
For a moment, I felt him stop, but only to pick up the
hairbrush that was sitting next to him. He rammed it down on my backside, and I
let out a scream of bloody murder. It was as if I had seen the ghost of
Hamlet’s father. “You will start taking care of yourself. You will not wait until midnight to start your
papers. You are going to go to sleep early, and you’re going to eat 3 meals a
day. Do you understand me?”
I whined, crying into my still trembling hands. He hit me on
my right thigh with the hairbrush, with more force than I thought he was
capable of mustering. “I said, do you understand me, young lady?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He picked the hairbrush back up and hit me a few
more times, before standing me up and having me lean over the bed. At this
point, I was racked with sobs, too exhausted to even entertain the thought of fighting
him. I just fell into the mattress, waiting for him to lay the first blow of
the belt onto my flesh.
Behind me, I heard the sound of his belt jingling, sliding
it through the loops of his jeans, the rustling of the leather as he folded it
and then the snap as it landed first on my left thigh.
“Ahaooo!” I shrieked, jumping up and reaching my hand back
to block the lashes from coming.
Heath pushed me back gently onto
the bed. “Stay still, Kris.”
I buried my face in my hands and bit my lip, preparing
myself for the next blow. It came, and then quickly after that, the next one.
It felt as though time sped up and slowed down all at once. I pushed myself
further into the mattress, briefly hoping that maybe if I pushed far and hard
enough, I’d find myself elsewhere. No such luck. It was all I could do to keep
from reaching back or kicking my legs. Heath, hitting me with the belt, over
and over, and my screams, piercing the room… louder than the sounds of the
snapping belt against my naked flesh.
And just like that, the slaps stopped, but my screaming
continued, piercing the night. “I’m sorry, Heath. I’m sorry,” I sobbed. His
hand, gently touching my back, different now, calmer… the anger gone from it.
“I’m so—so—rry.” I buried my face in the sheets. “Please,” I struggled to get
out as he brushed my hair out of my eyes. “I can’t take anymore.”
He sat down next to me, pulling my hair back and looking at
me, concerned. “Okay, we’re done,” he answered. “I’m done.” He rubbed my back,
trying to calm me down.
Heath saw me broken and he stopped. Eventually my screaming
stopped. I fell asleep with my pants around my legs and Heath’s voice, trying
to calm me down.
That year, I finished with a 3.5 GPA, somehow managing to
make it to the Dean’s List, despite everything.
