Chapter Text
I was halfway through eating my breakfast when the doorbell went. Surprised, I checked the time on my watch to make sure that I had not overslept, but it was only a few minutes after 7am, as expected. Getting up to go and open the door to my flat, I wondered who it could possibly be. The most obvious answer would of course be that it was a friend of mine who's come to visit – but who the deuce would show up at such an early hour? To the very best of my knowledge, none of my friends are particularly early risers, although I supposed it may well be possible for one of them to have adopted that habit since I saw them last.
The doorbell chimes again. I live in a rented flat, and 'chimed' might be a rather romantic way of viewing the abominable noise which the bell made. It was a high pitched, extremely loud noise, which droned on the nerves, and gave me the impression that my soul had been picked up, shaken around and spun a few times before being dropped back into place. I add this partially because it is necessary to understand my later state of confusion, and partially because it irritated me, and venting makes me feel better.
"Yes, yes," I muttered, irritably. "I'm coming! You can let that damn bell go."
On opening the door, my confusion about who could be visiting at such an hour was answered (if confusion is a thing that can be 'answered'), and my suspicious that it was a friend of mine were partially vindicated. On the other side of the door stood an old friend from my schoolgirl days: a young, rather strong-willed woman named Anoria. I hadn't seen her in... Well, it takes a second or two to remember. It may well have been high school that I saw her last in, so the best part of seven years!
I moved to greet her, but was swiftly preceded as Anoria hugged me with a great deal more affection than I'd have thought our acquaintance warrant.
"Sophia, my dear thing," she effused, kissing me on each cheek, and swanning into my flat. "It has been so long since we have last met – the fault is at least partially mine, I suppose, for not having contacted you since I discovered we lived in the same city. I hear you're a novellist, too! How's that going for you, darling? Oh, to be involved in such a romantic profession – is it not just to die for? As you'll doubtlessly know, I'm an events organiser myself; never was such a fan of books. Such a beautiful flat, too..."
Her last words were added wistfully, as her eyes rake over a clock on my mantelpiece. I closed and re-locked the door behind her, more amused than anything at her energy.
"Pretty well, thanks for asking. It's not the easiest job in the world to find work in, but I like to think I'm working my way up within the literary circles. Now, you'll excuse my forwardness, Anoria, but why exactly are you here? Not that I object to seeing you, quite the opposite in fact, but at, uh, five minutes past seven in the morning, it does come as a bit of a shock."
"Oh, of course! I haven't said, have I? Well, it wouldn't be best to spring it on you, just like that. I'm here for a rather... delicate matter. Yes, I think that's the right word: a rather delicate matter. You'll think I'm the most dreadful inconvenience, but maybe we could chat a little first – that way, when I spring the reason for my visit on you, it won't be quite so out of the blue."
Her request seemed reasonable, and so I agreed and offered her a seat opposite me at the breakfast table. She accepted a cup of tea, but declined my offer to give her some actual food, stating that she'd already eaten, but encouraging me to continue. The next half hour or so was spent agreeably catching up on this and that, until eventually she was on her third cup of tea, and I have long since finished my breakfast. Gently, I ask the question of why exactly she is here, again.
"Oh, yes! To be honest, I was on the verge of forgetting that – it's a dreadful habit of mine. Well, there's quite a bit of backstory to go over; nothing I'm going to say will make sense without the full story.
"I suppose I should start by talking about my brother a little – I'm really here as his emissary, to be honest. Well, as you know, he's called Julian. I assume you do remember Julian? He was in the same year as us at school? Yes? Very good. Well, he ended up going to university in France. It was at some dedicated institution for the study of psychology. All very modern. Anyway, this was all with the purpose of eventually going into psychology as some type of therapist or other. Which, in a way, he has ended up doing. Well, I'll stop stalling: he effectively did do this, except with one small deviation from typical practice... he ended up specialising into the physical discipline. Spankings, corner time, etcetera – I know it sounds juvenile, but it's apparently all very academically legitimate. Something to do with aligning short term desires with longer-term goals, via external incentives.
"Anyway, he set up as a kind of therapist in Paris with this as his little quirk. He called himself a 'professional disciplinarian'. By all accounts, I'm told he got very good results! I've read lots of the reviews his firms has received, and even met a few of his clients. They were all very enthusiastic about his services.
"Unfortunately, he was forced to give all this up as of a couple of months ago. No, don't look to sorry for him! An aunt of ours died and ended up giving him a townhouse, just a couple of streets away from here actually, on the condition that he live there for the next three years.
"So naturally, he's trying to re-establish his business here, in the UK. This is where the issue comes in: nobody wants to be his first customer – he's been completely unable to start up, or convince anyone to take a chance on him. It's a tragedy really. He knows he can be a massive success if he can get his first customer down... and that's where you come in."
"Me?!" I blurted, interrupting her for the first time. "I mean, I'm sure your brother is pleasant enough and all, but I haven't got any interest in being spanked!"
"Ah," said Anoria, wisely. "That's just the crux of the matter. Nobody does. I've asked all my closest friends, and none of them were remotely willing to entertain the idea. That's when I thought of you. I remembered, when we were younger, your parents spanked you right up to when you moved out! And very strictly, too. You're used to it, you see! It'd work fine with you. Particularly compared to somebody else – most people I know have never been spanked in their lives, for goodness sakes!"
"Well, I'm grateful to you for thinking of me," I said, a hint of sarcasm detectable in my voice. "But although I'd love to, I really need to be getting on with writing my next book. I'm on the edge of being late with rent, and I can't let your brother distract me from that, excellent a therapist though I'm sure he is. Sorry."
"Oh!" responded Anoria, brightening enormously. "Well, that's no issue then! Like I said, he's inherited a bit from his aunt, and he says he's willing to-"
"-I'm sorry, but I just don't think it'll work out, with-"
"-pay up to five thousand pounds for somebody to be his first client."
There's a moment of silence, as I suddenly realised just how much money she had said. With that, I'd be able to take care of a months rent, as well as some other things, and have to worry a lot less about this book – which, I'll freely admit, would need more time than I had currently allocated for it.
"Well," I began, hesitantly. "As a favour to a friend, I guess I could consider it. You owe me big time, though!"
"Thanks so much!!" exclaimed Anoria, almost jumping out of her seat with excitement. I take it she was looking for a candidate for quite a while. "And yes, I absolutely do owe you for this! Thanks so much! I'll send you the contact details for the whole thing later."
We chatted for another ten or so minutes, before she had to go, leaving me to my own devices again. A disciplinary spanking. Now, that's a concept I haven't thought about in a while. Back when I lived at home, I got it pretty regularly, and would even say I was pretty attuned to the treatment. It has been quite a few years now, though... in some ways, it might even be interesting to see how I hold up.