Donna fidgeted nervously, a cigarette in her hands. She knew, as she brought it to her lips, that she'd regret it later. But damnit, quitting cold turkey was just so hard! She didn't care so much that smoking was bad for her, but now the rule at work was that you had to stand 20 feet away from the door outside to smoke, which was great fun when it was raining. The last straw was the latest tax increase on tobacco. She decided she had to try to quit again, if for no other reason than she could think of better ways to spend $10 every day.
She had complained about this to her boyfriend, Bill. He put up with her smoking because he loved her, but he too wanted her to quit.
Finally, he said, "I know you can do it, I just think you need extra motivation."
She raised an eyebrow, "Oh? What sort?"
"Well, how about this: you can smoke all you want, but every cigarette, you have to take a swat from my old fraternity paddle?"
The question hung in the air for a moment, after he said it. Donna blinked. She didn't quite know where that suggestion came from. Bill looked a little nervous.
To fill the silence, he added, "I mean, it's just an idea. If you don't like..."
"No," Donna interrupted, "It's just... I dunno... Wouldn't it hurt?"
"Well, yeah, that's the idea, right? It has to hurt if it's going to work, doesn't it?"
That was certainly true, Donna thought, nodding.
"One swat per cigarette?" she asked.
"Oh, trust me. I still remember the hazing we used to do. It's more than enough. Besides, at 2 packs a day, that's, what? 40?"
A voice in Donna's head marveled that she was even participating in this conversation. She had never been spanked in her life and now she was considering volunteering to be paddled?
"How hard would they be?"
He paused, not quite knowing how to answer that. "You're just going to have to leave that to me, Donna. If it's going to do any good, it's going to have to hurt enough to make you want to avoid it."
She shuddered. After a moment he added, "I would never really hurt you, Darling. All you have to do is tell me to stop and I will."
She thought some more, then said, "Alright. We'll try it."
They spent a few more minutes setting up the deal. Donna dutifully counted the cigarettes left in her open pack and the packs left in her carton. She swore on her honor that she would buy no more, without reporting them to Bill. Bill left it up to her when she would "cash in" however many smacks she earned. Bill's last condition was that she take them bare-bottomed. At first she protested, but he reasonably argued that it would be too tough to be consistent if he had to adjust, for whatever pants she was wearing. She countered that surely her panties were all thin enough. Couldn't she keep them on, at least? He relented on that point. He allowed her one last cigarette to seal the deal. Every one after that would count.
Two days ago, when she made that deal, she had all of the confidence in the world that just the threat would be enough to keep her on the straight and narrow. But that was then. She was now finishing her fourth smoke. After she had had her third this morning, she texted bill that she thought maybe she had better "clear the ledger" tonight. She was nervous and of course, that made her want to smoke more. She looked at the clock, on the bank across the street. 3:30. Her appointment with Bill was at 6, at his place. Did she really think she could hold out that long?
The rest of the afternoon crawled by. Every time there was a lull, she thought for a moment about a cigarette break, before chiding herself that she'd never quit if she didn't stop thinking that way. Finally, at 5:00, she flipped the sign on the shop door to "closed" and started to lock up. At least while she was busy, her mind was kept off taking a smoke break.
The traffic was mercifully light today, as Donna drove to Bill's apartment. She pulled into a parking space in front of his building and turned off the engine.
This was it.
Four.
She couldn't believe she was about to get - she could hardly bring herself to think the word - spanked. But another part of her brain reminded her that she had only had four cigarettes in a day, instead of two packs. The last time she had tried to quit, the first smoke she snuck set off a chain reaction that sabotaged her whole effort. She had to admit to herself that the threat of Bill's fraternity paddle was keeping her honest.