Paying for it

"There are no good girls gone wrong,
just bad girls found out."

-Mae West

I'm not used to people catching on. I'm used to getting away with it.

Perhaps it is my innocent appearance -- wide blue eyes, cherubic cheeks framed in blonde curls, my tendency toward blushing -- but I was never suspected of wrongdoing by authority figures.

For an entire month as a senior in high school, I fabricated an excuse to leave English class mid-way through so I could sit in the parking lot and smoke. No note was needed; the strength of my pristine reputation was enough.

I never once had detention. And despite my propensity for turning in late papers, I never received a poor mark in any class.

No, I was not suspected of any wrongdoing until now. My past years of skating under authority's radar, blinking my eyes in feigned innocence, my face wearing the "who me?" expression, are over. He knows exactly who I am.

When he tells me to lower my panties, he needs no reason. But sometimes I guess I do. Perhaps that's why, when I'm over his knee, my mind flashes back to the wealth of past, unaccounted-for offenses. I've not told him this yet. He hasn't added up the penalties and interest.

But I have:

Twenty-five separate spankings for that month in senior year that I skipped class. Forty-seven spankings for being tardy to Accounting. Thirty-eight spankings for stealing rolls of toilet paper from the dorms when I lived in off-campus housing and money was tight. One hundred fifty-six spankings for the entire semester of Philosophy that I missed while still managing an "A". Ka-ching, ka-ching -- the list goes on.

I continue to add to it, earning spankings for being ornery, disobedient and bossy.

It is a 30-year mortgage that I pay off weekly. Neither those who have tolerated my misbehavior nor my disciplinarian are aware of the deposits. But given that the payments are so delicious, perhaps I should have incurred more naughty debt in my youth?


This week's payment is late. I'm looking forward to paying that off with interest. Maybe it's time to let him know about the secret bank account.