Saturday
I woke up with a start, the light streaming through my curtains hitting my eyes in that blinding way that only Saturday mornings can. My head felt heavy, my mouth dry, and as I reached over to grab my phone, I could already feel the sinking sensation in my stomach. I had fallen into the same trap again. It was well past 11 AM, and I had wanted to wake up early today—needed to wake up early to get some work done—but, of course, I hadn’t. I had stayed up late, scrolling through Instagram, watching random videos that didn’t even matter. And now, my whole day was off.
I groaned as I slowly pulled myself out of bed. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t do this anymore—no more late nights on social media, no more putting everything off. But here I was, once again, with nothing to show for it but a headache and an empty stomach.
Dragging my feet downstairs, I was hoping I could just slip under the radar today. I wasn’t in the mood for lectures, and I especially wasn’t in the mood for Adam’s judgment. But, of course, he was already there. Sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, looking too damn calm.
“Morning,” I muttered, feeling the weight of everything I hadn’t done hanging over me.
“Morning,” Adam replied, his voice steady and even. He didn’t look up from his coffee, but I could feel his gaze on me. “How’d you sleep?”
“Not great,” I said, avoiding his eyes. “Stayed up late on Instagram.”
“I figured,” he said, his voice even, his gaze soft but knowing. “You’ve been slipping lately, Nat. Falling behind in your work. You’re letting yourself get distracted by the wrong things, hon.”
I clenched my jaw, a pang of frustration rising in my chest. “I know, okay? I don’t need you to tell me.”
“I’m not telling you to make you feel bad,” Adam said calmly, setting his cup down and finally meeting my eyes. “I’m telling you because you keep saying you want to get it together, but you’re not taking the steps to actually do it. The phone, the distractions... They’re all part of it.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but I can’t deny the truth in his words. I didn’t want to admit it, but he was not wrong. And I wished he was.
“I get it,” I muttered, my voice small. “I just... don’t know where to start.”
Adam didn’t say anything for a moment. He just stared at me, his eyes calm, almost like he was waiting for me to figure it out on my own. “You start by being honest with yourself, Nat. You’ve been making excuses for way too long. Not only to me, not only to your parents - but even to yourself”
I felt my face flush. I wasalwaysmaking excuses. I wasn’t proud of it, but it was easier than admitting how much I had been avoiding things. I’ve been academically successful throughout my schooling years, and I never broke a sweat. College is tiring though, and I started avoiding... things. Important things. It was always easier to numb the frustration of missing out on academics with Instagram or Netflix than it was to face how far behind I was falling.
“I just... I don’t know how to stop,” I admitted, my voice cracking slightly.
Adam stood up from the table and walked over to me, placing a hand gently on my shoulder. “It’s about making the choice to stop. It’s about accepting responsibility for what you’re doing, and then fixing it. You have to want it, Nat. You can’t keep letting yourself off the hook.”
I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, and I hated it. I hated how vulnerable I felt in front of him. But deep down, I knew he was right. And I hated that, too.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“I know,” Adam said quietly, his voice softening just a bit. “But you need to understand, Nat, that your actions have consequences. And I can’t just let you keep going on like this. Not anymore.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t sure how to explain how frustrating it was to be stuck in this cycle, to know I needed to change, but not having the strength to do it.
Adam’s eyes softened, but there was still a firmness in his tone. “I’m trying to help you. But the first step is you deciding to do the hard work. And that starts with acknowledging the problem, not pushing it away.”
I took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Okay, I get it,” I said, finally looking up at him. “I’ll try harder.”
Adam nodded, though he still looked concerned. “You’re going to sit here for 15 minutes and reflect. No distractions, no phone. Just think about everything we’ve talked about, and really think about what you need to do to change.”
I sighed. I didn’t want to do it. I wanted to fight him, but I knew he wouldn’t back down. He never did. So, with a deep breath, I sank down onto the couch and glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes. Just fifteen minutes of thinking about all the mess I had created.
Adam didn’t say anything else; he just sat across from me, watching me closely. The silence felt heavy, but after a while, I started to realize just how much I had been ignoring. I was falling behind in coursework quite badly. And I had to start taking responsibility for it.
Fifteen minutes later, Adam got up and walked over to me. “How do you feel?”
I took a moment to gather myself. “I think I get it now. I’ve been avoiding everything. And I’ve been using distractions to keep from facing what I need to change.”
Adam smiled slightly, “I’m proud of you for admitting it, Nat. But that is just the first step. Now we need to make sure you stay on track.”
I swallowed. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for what came next. “What do you mean?”
He gave me a soft but firm look. “You know what I mean. We have been through this before. You’re going to have to earn back your routine. It’s not going to be easy. You’ve got to stick with it, even when it’s hard.”
I nodded quietly, steeling myself for whatever was next.
“But first,” Adam said, his tone turning more serious, “we need to make sure you’re not falling back into the same bad habits. I think it’s time for a little... course correction.”
I felt a shiver of unease. I knew what he meant. We had talked about this before. Whenever I let my behavior get too out of control, Adam had a way of bringing me back in line. A very effective way.
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and guiding me to the living room couch. “You know what needs to happen.”
I sat down, my heart racing a little. We had talked about this—the idea that sometimes a reset was necessary, a way to force me into a mindset shift when I was too stubborn to make it on my own. I wanted it when we set up our plan, but now that we were here, I felt every bit of resistance bubbling up inside me.
“You know why I’m doing this,” Adam said as he sat on the couch, and positioned me standing between his knees. “You’ve been disrespecting your own goals, Nat. And you’ve been rude to me, too. It’s time to face the music.”
I tried to open my mouth to plead, but the words wouldn’t come out. He was right. I had been acting like a brat, like a victim, every time I slipped up. But that didn’t make it easier to accept.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, lowering my gaze.
Adam’s expression softened. “I know. But do you think a sorry is enough?”
“No sir”
“Nat, this is about more than just saying sorry. It’s about making the choice to change your actions, to stop pushing back when you need guidance.”
I nodded, my breath catching. I knew I had to let go of my pride. I had to let him do what needed to be done.
“Over my knee, please,” Adam said gently, guiding me to lie down across his lap. My nightie shorts doing little to offer me any protection.
My heart pounded in my chest as I positioned myself. I wasn’t sure what it would feel like, but I knew it was what I needed. It wasn’t a punishment out of anger—it was a way for me to reset, to stop being so defensive and rebellious. It was a reminder that I needed to be held accountable for the choices I made.
He gently began rubbing my backside, giving me a few light taps in preparation of what was about to come.
“Do not reach back or try to block me. And avoid kicking. As the first one from me, it will be hard for you but I don’t want your behavior to make it even harder. Understood?”
“Yes sir”
A few seconds passed in silence. And then, the dreaded lift of his hand from my backside... and the first smack landed on my right. I jolted in surprise, with a faint sting lingering as he raised his hand and gave a tight one on the alternate cheek. And another. And another. And another.
It wasn’t my first time getting whooped, but it was surely one after really, really long time. The alternating smacks fell into a steady rhythm for about half a minute, after which Adam put his fingers around the waistbands of my nightie shorts and tugged them down.
I squirmed a little in protest, but 2 quick ones on the inside of my thighs was enough to shut me up. THEY HURT. The rhythm continued and I’m sure my backside became progressively pinker as time passed.
A minute or two into this new outfit, Adam gently helped me on my feet. I was sniffling a little - from the pain and the guilt. I wished it was over, but -
“I kept a wood ruler on the kitchen counter. Fetch that for me, please,” he said.
It was silly of me to think that I’d be let go without any implement, but I had hopes... especially since this was my first one from him. The ruler was one of the more dreaded implements from my childhood because one particular night, every single person in my six-membered childhood household had applied that godforsaken instrument on my behind when I mixed an extra tablespoon of salt in their food as a prank. A well deserved thrashing though, I did waste a lot of food.
Anyways I handed the ruler to him and was about to lie back when he stopped me. He then tugged my underwear and pulled them down to my knees, leaving me in my birthday suit from below my waist. I flushed hard, since it was also the first time I was this undressed in front of Adam. He, however, didn’t bat an eyelid, and took me back over his knee - tapping me into position.
“I’m giving you only three, but I want you to count and tell me three different ways in which you will improve.”
“Ok sir,” I replied, the words slipping easily out of my mouth. His hand was enough to snap my manners back into me and the lesson of non-procrastination was just going to be cemented forever with three strokes of that ruler.
SMACK!
“One sir, I will schedule all my work and make daily goals.”
SMACK!
“Two sir, I will give myself rewards like watching Instagram only after completing a substantial portion of my goals daily.”
SMACK!
“Three sir, I will ask for help and guidance when I need it and not require a punishment to realize that.”
By the third stroke, a few tears and sobs escaped me. Adam rubbed my back gently, praising the lessons I had chosen and shushing my cries. When I calmed a little, he made me stay in the corner for fifteen minutes to reflect.
I stood there, still feeling the warmth on my backside and thinking about everything I had done wrong. I was mad at myself, and at first, I tried to fight the feeling. But after a few minutes, I realized how much I had needed this. It wasn’t about the punishment—it was about taking responsibility for myself.
When the timer went off, Adam guided me back to the couch and pulled me into a hug. “I’m proud of you, Nat. But this is just the beginning. You’re going to be okay. You just have to keep choosing the right path.”
I nestled into his chest, feeling a sense of calm washing over me. “Thank you,” I said quietly.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered. “Now, I’m going to make you some brunch. And after you get some work done, we can have some fun and watch a movie or go to the park.”
I perked up at the mention of the movie. “Wait, really? You mean it?”
Adam chuckled softly, brushing my hair back from my face. He was helping me reclothe myself, “Yeah, really. But only after you work. No skipping ahead.”
I smiled, feeling lighter than I had in days. As I sat down at the table to get some work done, I realized something important: I wasn’t alone in this. I had someone who cared, who was willing to help me through the hard parts.
And with that, I finally felt ready to take control of my life again.
