Spitfire

Sheila Blake couldn’t help it. She had to talk herself into trouble. This had been a problem for her
growing up at home, at school and later on, wherever she worked. She seemed to crave confrontation
and constantly found herself arguing with others over the smallest of issues. Of course, this was
before she met Erik Powell.

The two had been dating less than a month when Sheila managed to instigate a loud argument in
the middle of a film they were watching. Aggravated by Sheila’s behavior and embarrassed at being
part of a public spectacle, Erik took his date by the arm, lead her out of the movie theater and into
the parking lot where he proceeded to tell her what an intolerable pain in the ass she was being.
Then, as if to illustrate his point, he put his foot onto the rear fender of his car, pulled Sheila across
his uplifted leg and slapped her bottom. She began to yell something at him but before she could
catch her breath he smacked her ass again and was soon spanking her soundly. Sheila’s flimsy
skirt and silk panties offered little protection against the onslaught of Erik’s powerful hand as it
came down again and again, each time delivering a stinging handful of heat to the young woman’s
aching backside. Erik gave Sheila's bottom one last wallop before letting her down. Once her feet
were back on the ground, Sheila could to do little but try to regain her composure as Erik unlocked
his door got into the driver’s seat. He started the engine and waited for her to get in, which she
eventually did.

It was uncomfortably quiet inside Erik’s car as he drove Sheila home. “I understand if you don’t
want to see me again.” he said after seven minutes on the road. Sheila didn’t respond.
She just stared out the window watching trees and houses pass in and out of view.
She was stunned, not by the spanking she’d just received, but by the fact that she wasn’t the
least bit angry or upset about it.

She felt oddly at peace. It was strange because, even if she was in the right, she never felt pleased
or vindicated after a dispute, only frustrated and empty. This felt entirely different. It was like tasting
some exotic flavor for the first time. And she wanted more.

By the time they arrived at Sheila’s apartment building, Erik had taken his date’s silence to mean that
their brief courtship was at an end. So, he was more than a little surprised when she invited him in.

“I’m sorry we missed the end of the movie.” Sheila said from the kitchen as Erik made himself
comfortable on the couch. She entered the living room with a drink in each hand. “I don’t know what
came over me.” She handed Erik a glass as she sat down next to him. They sipped their drinks
and smiled politely at each other. After a painfully long minute, Sheila spoke up, “So, do you spank
all the women you date?”

“Well,” Erik began with a laugh. “I’m not sure a gentleman should answer a question like that.
Do you call every man you date a jerk?”

“I didn’t call you a jerk.” Sheila countered. “I said you were acting like one.”

Erik began to answer but then thought better of it. “I really don’t want to argue anymore tonight.”
he said calmly, then took a sip from his glass.

“Of course not. You know I’m right.”

“Look.” Erik said, putting his glass on the coffee table. “Are you spoiling for another trip across
my knee?”

Sheila paused, then gulped down the remainder of her drink before placing the glass on the table
next to his “Not ‘spoiling’ exactly.

“I think maybe ‘intrigued’ would be a better word."

As she spoke, she leaned forward to meet Erik’s waiting lips.

They kissed, softly at first, then deeply with passion. Erik was a bit disappointed when Sheila
suddenly broke from the kiss and pushed herself from him. But he understood her motives when
she kicked off her pumps and slowly crawled across his lap, offering to him her firm, round bottom.
Without a word, Erik placed his left hand on the small of Sheila’s back while his right began to roam
slowly across her ass cheeks. She sighed heavily as he gave her left buttock a gentle squeeze and
grunted slightly when he gave her right a mild smack. Sheila pressed herself against Erik’s leg as
he continued to give her sore ass a deep, soothing massage interrupted by an occasional slap to
one cheek or the other. Then he stopped and with deliberate slowness lifted the hem of her skirt
exposing her beautiful panty-clad bottom. Once again, he began alternately caressing and swatting
Sheila’s cheeks while she continued to moan. As the rubbing got deeper, the swats came faster,
each a little harder than the last. Erik was soon spanking Sheila with strong, full-armed strokes.
Her feet left the floor as a particularly sharp slap landed across her reddening fanny. Noticing this,
Erik massaged the area where his hand print appeared on her right cheek. He then pulled her
panties down to the backs of her knees and continued to rub the tender area. A minute later,
he was back to sharply slapping her ass.

Sheila was wincing with every swat and yet she couldn’t keep but from grinning as she felt herself
becoming hot all over- not just her ass, but her face and her body. An intoxicating warmth spread
from the tops of her ears to the tips of her toes. She’d gone from damp to drenched when Erik
slid her panties down and began spanking her bare bottom. She was delirious with the mixture
of pleasure, pain and humiliation. The swats were coming down hard and fast now. Sheila began
to kick and cry out. Her cheeks were ablaze and felt as if they were throbbing two beats faster than
her heart. As the spanking reached a fevered pitch, Sheila managed to say one coherent word.

“Please!”

Erik recognized the sound in her voice and knew immediately that this was not just a request for
him to stop spanking her, but a demand for him to start doing something else. He delivered two
more swats, one to each cheek and quickly began to massage them once again. He kneaded
her burning buttocks, squeezing and patting them as well. As he did this, he occasionally let
his fingers wander between her thighs to explore her wetness. It didn’t take long for him to realize
she was ready.

Erik gathered Sheila’s limp, quivering body into his arms rolling her over as he lifted her. She looked
up at him through her weepy eyes as he carried her to the bedroom. There was no anger on his face,
no contempt or superiority. It was clear that he had simply given her something of which she had
been in dire need- a loving, attentive hand.

The next morning, the two had a long discussion over breakfast. They decided that Sheila could
benefit from a lifestyle that included spankings in response to her verbal outbursts. They agreed
on a simple set of rules, then shook hands and made love after a long, passionate bottom warming
to seal the deal.

During the months that followed, they stuck to their plan. Every time Sheila lost her temper and
flew off the handle, she was soon punished with an old-fashioned tanning session across Erik's lap.
If she used particularly poor judgment in her choice of words while quarreling, she would also spend
five to ten minutes standing in a corner with her freshly painted back porch on display. Erik even
managed to slip the details of this arrangement into their wedding vows. At the altar, after audibly
promising to love and cherish her, Erik leaned in and whispered a few private words into the ear of
his bride. “I also vow to take this little spitfire across my knee and spank her backside bright red
whenever she needs it.” Sheila blushed at the thought of someone overhearing this and when she
saw the giddy smile on the minister’s face as he asked for the rings, her face turned the shade of
raspberry sherbet.

One year later, to the day, found Sheila in her kitchen preparing a first anniversary dinner for
her husband. She’d left work three hours early in order to surprise him when he came home.
The food, all his favorite dishes, came out perfectly and was on the table at 6:00, the time Erik
normally walked through their front door. By 6:15 the food had cooled and Erik wasn’t home yet,
so Sheila put the meat and vegetable dishes in the oven. She left a concerned message on Erik’s
voice mail at 6:30 and two angry ones at 6:45 and 7:00. At 7:15, Erik finally arrived home to find
his wife staring coldly at him from her chair at the dinner table.

“Happy anniversary!” she began sarcastically. Erik stood silently in the doorway while Sheila flew
into a tirade. She went into great detail about her efforts to make this evening special and how upset
she was that he didn’t even bother to call and tell her he’d be late. She declared that Erik didn’t really
love her, that he only cared about himself and that she had no idea why they were together.
She peppered these statements with an abundance of cruel insults and extremely foul language.

She was about to grab the carefully prepared table and flip it over in her rage when she noticed
a band-aid on her hubby’s forehead.

“What's that?” she asked, her voice softening as she approached him.

“Just a bump.” he told her. “I got car-jacked this afternoon.”

Erik walked with Sheila to the dinner table and sat down as he calmly explained that a young man
had assaulted him in the office parking lot. He said that he’d handed his keys over as ordered,
then the man bashed him on the head with the butt of a pistol and drove off. “I spent the next two
hours at the police station filing a report. Then I took a cab home.”

“But why didn’t you call?” Sheila said.

“My cell phone was in the car.” Erik said. “I guess I could have called from the station, but I didn’t
want to worry you. Besides, I didn’t know you’d be home early tonight.”

“Oh, honey!” Sheila stood and kissed his bruised head. “You must be starving! I'll put dinner
back on the table.” she said, heading into the kitchen.

“Dinner can wait!” Erik stated in a manner that stopped Sheila in her tracks.

She turned around to see Erik's angry stare. "I just talked myself into a spanking, didn't I?" she said
with a slight gulp.

"Don't underestimate yourself." Erik replied. "You not only talked yourself into a spanking,
you almost talked your panties all the way down to your ankles! Now get in the living room!
And bring the chair with you!"

Sheila dreaded that phrase. "Bring the chair". It meant that she was in trouble. Those three words
told Sheila that Erik would soon be rolling up his sleeve. They foretold kicking and tears and
promised that she’d soon be rubbing her throbbing red bottom as she stood in the corner.
She took a chair from the table and brought it into the next room where her husband was waiting,
arms folded. Erik snatched the chair from her, placed it on the floor and immediately sat down.
Before she could blink twice, Sheila was over his lap with her skirt up and her panties down.
Erik gave his wife’s soft, round ass cheeks a few preliminary rubs and squeezes. He then lifted
his hand and delivered the first swat. Sheila yelped and gritted her teeth in anticipation of the
next one, which also proved to be a real stinger. Like a properly warmed up pitcher, Erik soon
brought the spanking to an intense pace. He smacked his wife’s bottom with all the speed and
strength he could summon. Sheila began whimpering and her eyes were filled with tears.

“His hand is so hard!” she thought. “How can such a sweet man have such a punishing hand?!”

Her buttocks felt like molten glass. Trying to brace herself, she grabbed onto the left front and rear
legs of the chair. She tried not to kick, but her reflexes soon took over and her feet were flying wildly
through the air. As the torrent of slaps continued to scorch her burning backside, Sheila began bawling
like a child sent to the principal’s office. She apologized profusely through her tears and promised that
she would never lose her temper again. Unconvinced, Erik continued spanking his wife until her
bottom was raw, red and swollen.

“Okay, stand up.” Erik suddenly commanded. Sheila pushed herself from his lap and stood sobbing
before him. Erik took his sweetheart into his arms hugging her and kissing her tear-stained face until
she stopped crying. He then took Sheila gently by the arm to the corner near the couch. He was
about to tell her that she was to stand there with her panties down for a few minutes when the
phone rang. Erik went into the kitchen to answer it. As she stood in the corner gripping her sizzling
buns in both hands, two thoughts ran through Sheila’s mind. One was that her husband had the
hardest hand she’d ever felt, the other was that she must be the luckiest woman on Earth.
Erik returned a minute later. He told Sheila the police had found his car. “It’s at the impound lot
downtown. They say it hasn’t been damaged. I told them you’d drive me down in a few hours
to pick it up.” He put his hand on Sheila’s shoulder and turned her around so he could look into
her watery eyes.

“Happy anniversary.” she said, still hyperventilating a little.

They embraced.

“Happy anniversary.” he replied, laughing as he reached down to firmly cup her burning ass cheeks
in his rugged hands. As he did this, Erik kissed his way down Sheila’s neck to her chest.

"I want to put some antiseptic on your forehead." she whispered.

"I don’t want you to get an infection.”

“Yes.” Erik groaned back, his voice muffled as he pressed his lips into her cleavage. “And I’m
going to rub some cream on your bottom. I don’t want you to blister.” Moaning softly, Sheila tilted
her head back as her right hand unzipped Erik’s pants and deftly maneuvered its way into
his underwear. “What am I going to do with you?” Erik asked with a knowing smile.

"Just keep loving me." Sheila replied, looking hopefully into her husband’s adoring eyes.

"Let me tell you something, my little spitfire.” Erik said, giving the tip of her nose a kiss.
"I'll love you 'til you can't sit down.”

THE END