The glow from the computer screen in front of me demands the utmost attention. There’s a harshness in my throat where a copious amount of coffee has slid down. It’s a mere minute between making and breaking it. I frantically go through the TurnItIn options. I click upload. 12:01am strikes. “Oh no!” I think to myself—it’s two minutes late and the Arts faculty has just upped the late penalty.
I knock on the Vice Chancellor’s door. It creaks open and I step inside. “Are you ready for your punishment?” His voice booms as he swings his chair around. I gulp when I see him: Daddy Spence. Clad in leather. His prized (and fake) Picasso looms above his head.
“I’ve been a naughty girl, Daddy Spence, I deserve punishment.” He gestures for me to come hither. I’m scared to comply, but even more afraid to refuse.
He takes my wrist and bends me over his lap. “This is going to hurt more than trying to comprehend Judith Butler,” he gleefully announces. I feel him raise his hand, a soft brush of air bouncing off my bottom.
“Whack!” goes the first strike. Then another! And another! “Oh, Daddy!” I scream as he strikes my supple skin for the fourth time. Only one more sweet belt before my punishment is up—but it doesn’t arrive. I’m splayed across his lap, shaking, waiting for that final blow. I can’t bear it. Is this what it feels like to wait for a student’s late assignment? My train of thought is broken by one final spank. A thunderous clap that sends shockwaves trembling through my body, and then it’s all over. My backside aches as I lift myself off Daddy Spence’s knee.
“Now, I hope not to see you when the take home exam is due,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, showing he really does want to bend me over his knee again. I smile coyly, walk out of his office and step into the Quad, already planning to submit my take home exam late.