I dedicate quite a lot of my spare time to coaching a certain sport that is surely beloved of many bdsm-aficionados as it involves lots of strokes, not to mention cox-boxes and a degree of inherent masochism.
I've been planning a seminar on race psychology and motivation during stressful times (in this case many of my coachees' exams) and somehow my brain has wandered from more traditional content such as time management onto somewhat pervier avenues...late for training, take that many strokes of the paddle...slower than your last test piece? That'll be a good spanking then.
The only problem being that I'd have loved a certain one of my coaches to spank me when I was competing myself. I remember almost falling over my feet in excitement on one occasion when this particular object of my affections sent my team up to the gym and ordered us to get out the canes...sadly it wasn't quite what I hoped for and they were put to a most boring and mundane use...though I still have fantasies about a darkened training hall on a wet night after an unproductive session. I was the last girl to leave, having wearily dragged myself through the shower and into my tracksuit for the slog home.
"A moment Rebecca, we need to discuss your concentration during that session. Wait here whilst I find my cane..."