Fringe Benefits

She sits at her desk, dully and dutifully.
Her will has vanished with the sun.
The sun vanished days ago.
She hasn't moved in an hour.

He rings her extension. Obediently, she rises and enters his office. She notices a small tingling between her thighs and deep in her brain. She is starting to awake.

He closes the door and gives his instructions. With a pinch of animation, she removes her clothes and presents herself for inspection. Selecting a rubber stamp from his desk drawer, he imprints the word APPROVED on each breast in official red letters. Returning that stamp to the drawer, he takes out another one, and leaves his signature just above the cluster of red curls that crowns her cunt.

She emits a barely perceptible sigh of satisfaction and relief.

The time has come.

Firmly, authoritatively, he turns her around and pushes her down over the broad wooden expanse. Systematically, he spreads her legs and attaches her ankles to steel rings permanently embedded at the desk's base. She hears the belt being pulled out sharply through its looped restraints.

As the first lash lands, she breathes a silent thank you.

He always knows what she needs.

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Sometimes I need to write things like this. But more often than not, I need to feel as if I am writing them for someone else.

It no longer seems appropriate to offer them to the philosopher. So I send them to dominick, with whom I still fitfully correspond. He knows there is no expectation of response. Whatever he does send back is honest and well written.

Today it was very dark. Never better than late dusk. I pushed my way through a day of cotton wool, both around my body and in my brain. I needed a spark, a sting, a spanking, to stir me awake. There were little tingles as I wrote the above hint of a story, but mostly I was only half-conscious as I typed the word "cunt" sitting there at work at my desk in an open room.

Just a few small tingles, wishing there were someone to take me into his office, someone to jolt me awake with a dose of endorphins from the searing pain he would deliver to my plump white bottom.

Maybe NIH should consider a study on the efficacy of spanking as a treatment for SAD.