Spanking erotica...
"Swat" a sex story by Peter Rosier
Scene: A baking hot day in a small town; furnace heat hits the streets like a hammer on an anvil. It's the people who are the red-hot iron, pounded into disparate shapes.
Cut to: Inside of small town general store. Cool and shady, with lethargic overhead fans circulating the air.
Me: A thirty-something, professional woman, journalist, go-getter, decisive, hot and bothered. A customer who just wants to quickly buy one thing, and then get home, out of this heat.
She: Early-twenties girl, shop assistant. Gum snapping, bored, indifferent, lazy.
Gum chewing miss is behind the counter, propped up and yakking into her cell phone.
"So, 'Gee Lawrence,' I said to him, 'where do you think you're putting your hands?' And he just said 'On your sweet butt, baby' so I said..."
She mutters something I can't hear and giggles.
Getting tired of waiting, I say "Excuse me, where do you keep your fly swats?"
She gives me a dirty look, half turns her back, and goes on yakking into her cell in hushed whispers. Seeing this is getting me nowhere, I hold back an impulse to throttle her and go to look for myself. Sure enough, a little way in back is a choice of good old fashioned fly swats hanging on hooks. There is the cheap one dollar version, plastic, made in China and bound to snap after a use or two. Or there is a two dollar version, bamboo handle and whisks, taut and stronger. I take one of each and saunter back to the counter to give little miss yakker of the year a chance to realize she has a customer.
No dice, she is still talking. Seeing me coming back, she turns away again so she can't see me. Fortunately, I'm not that easy to discourage.
“Which of these is the best value?" A reasonable question, I think.
She slowly turns back to me slowly, with a look of astonishment dawning on her face that someone might actually want her help. She shrugs, "Dunno."
I'm near the end of my tether at this point. I decide that a little demonstration might be in order. Reaching over, I grab the cell phone in mid-yak, silence it by the simple expedient of throwing it in a drawer and seize Little Miss Useless by the collar of her too-tight, cut-off tee, heaving her half over the counter face down. She's spread-eagled on the polished wood, struggling and swearing, her little butt (cute, I have to admit, full marks to Lawrence whoever he is) straining her short shorts to the point that I think the stitching might give way.
Well, we can't have that, can we?
Amidst the struggling, she gives me a heavy stare, slowly looking me up and down. Then she plays with the elastic of her shorts with her skinny finger and flirts with their place on her hips. A quick tug by me brings her shorts down around her ankles. Her teeny-tiny panties, pink, cotton and cute, barely cover her rather fleshy buttocks. All in all, a derriere that needs the full attention of the local press, so to speak!

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"Okay, Miss," I say over her squealing and carrying on, "here's the deal. I need a reliable fly swat and you are going to help me find the best one you have here. I don't want to come back in this heat just to get another anytime soon. Seems to me you need a lesson in manners and I'm going to give you that, too. You needn't thank me; it'll be a pleasure. Oh, and all the while you cuss like that you're just making it worse for yourself."
I don't believe in letting obstacles stand in my way and those panties, cute little things that they may be, are in the way of a great object lesson in how not to upset your elders. So they have to go. A quick firm pull on their elasticized top and down they come; judging by the ripping sound, they aren't going to be good for much after this.
As the cool air hits madam's little butt cheeks, she whimpers a bit and her legs windmill some. A firm grasp and a push down keeps her in place and in position for what is to come. I think I'll try the cheaper swat first.
"Now here's the deal. I'm going to spank your hide until both of these fly swats break, ok? I’ll buy the one that lasts longest. I'm starting with the cheap one."
Picking up the lightweight plastic swat and weighing it in my hand for balance, I don't think much of its chances. Aiming fairly and squarely at my captive's pretty pink (and soon to be pinker!) right cheek, I bring it down with a fair degree of force, and with a distinctive splat sound, on her flesh. She screams. There's a bright red mark but fairly localized. The swat is still in one piece.
Turning to the other cheek, I bring the fly swat down in the same way. Again, a distinctive splat sound rather overlaid by Miss Yakker's cries, and there's a red mark just as before. A matching pair!
Now for a speed test. A brisk tattoo of strokes on both cheeks, first right and then left, overlapping but aiming to cover the entire flesh of both buttocks evenly. The sound of the swat brings a rhythmic beat to the inside of the store, with a counterpoint of sobbing from my hapless but deserving victim. Splat, splat, splat goes the fly swat and oh, oh, oh cries my young miss; I doubt anyone has ever given her the lesson she is now getting.
I rather lose count but reckon about ten strokes have been applied to each cheek. Sadly, there is now a snapping sound and, as I had suspected would happen, a piece of the plastic breaks off and flies away.
So much for cheap fly swats!
Little miss's relief at the cessation of spanking is short-lived as I seize the bamboo and apply this with rather more vigour to her rear end. The harsher bamboo bites deeply into her already reddened swollen globes. Her legs wave back and forth as if she is trying to run away. Her reddened bottom turns an interesting shade of blue-green and I doubt she will be sitting on it, or letting Lawrence do anything to it, for a long time to come.
And still the bamboo swat holds firm; it doesn't even splinter.
Finally, I judge enough is enough and release my hold. My hitherto insolent shop assistant slips sobbing back down and on to the floor. I pull a couple of dollar bills out and put them carefully on the counter.
"I'll take the dearer one," I say. "I think you'll agree it's well worth it."
And then it is back out into that infernal heat.
Originally published December 2010