Spitfire

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“Go to hell, Adam!!!”

The scream came from the behind the locked bathroom door. Adam sat on the edge of their king size bed in the adjoining room. He sighed and ran a tired hand over his face, unhappy at having an argument through the door. After nearly half an hour without any discernible progress, he was quite unhappy to be continuing this argument at all . “Please,” he called imploringly, “can we talk about this when you’ve calmed down?”

He needn’t have worried that his wife’s exile to the bathroom would last long. No sooner had he finished his question but Lilly burst back into the bedroom, yelling and jabbing a finger in his general direction as she paced erratically in front of the bed. “Oh, calm down? You want me to calm down after telling me you’ve changed your mind about something you know, you know is important to me?!”

Her voice cracked at the end, and Adam struggled not to embrace her– while she might look frazzled, he knew any attempts at solace would simply enrage her more. He dropped his head into his hands, replying calmly “I didn’t change my mind, darling. I just said that maybe… well, maybe we aren’t quite ready.”

“‘We’re’ not ready?! So, you mean, I’m not ready? You don’t think can handle being away from home? Is that what you’re trying to say?” The former trace of impending tears was gone now as she let her hurt feelings hide under her anger. With a heavy exhale Adam stood and walked towards the balcony door where she stood. “No, love, it’s not–”

Before he could finish his sentence she stormed past him to the other side of the room, stopping beside the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed, putting as much distance between the two of them as she could in the small space. “Or do you mean you are not ready, Adam? I don’t know why it comes as such a surprise to you. I mean, I only mentioned that I wanted out of here on our fucking first date!!!” She reached blindly toward the little table beside her, grabbing a small vase and hurling it at her bewildered husband.

He ducked as the green glass missed his head and slammed loudly into the wall behind him. They both froze, Adam starring at Lilly with a look of disbelief as she stared with a similar expression at the broken shards now covering the floor, her right hand still raised while the left slowly rose to cover her open mouth. Then several things happened at once. Lilly moved into action, mouth and hands working against each other, apologies spilling through her lips even as her fingers moved to prepare her backside for the spanking she knew was coming. “I am so sorry– please– don’t– I won’t– I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Adam, please– please don’t–” Her entire demeanor shifted. She babbled incoherently while her hands flew to her jeans, undoing the button and zipper and shoving them toward her knees before stumbling at the bed, hands catching her, leaving her bent at the waist and babbling still. In the same instant that Lilly began moving, Adam’s entire countenance shifted. The planes of his face seemed to become sharper, his posture stiffer. His eyes narrowed, replaced the frazzled new-husband look, his expression hardening as he stood and began undoing his brown leather belt. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before folding the belt and walking to Lilly’s side of the room. He stood by her for a moment, listening to her spilled apologies and disjointed pleas. After a moment he placed a warm hand on the small of his wife’s back and her chattering ceased. He rubbed up to her shoulder blades a few times, calming them both, before stepping back. “I’m sorry…” she whispered once more as she felt him move away.

Adam brought his heavy belt down across her backside, a two dozen times at least, quickly, sharp smacking sounds filling the air, turning the skin a bright pink. Lilly’s fingers clutched the bedspread, her elbows locked in place and shaking slightly at the onslaught. When he stopped, he could see the glow of color even through her white underwear.  He pulled them down to her knees and stepped back, preparing for the last bit of the punishment. One, he counted in his head as Lilly let out a small whimper; these strokes were harder, calculated, unlike the steady whipping she’d just received. Two, he thought, bringing the strap down again just below the first lick. Three, and he had found his rhythm, four— he was halfway done. Each stroke made her gasp more audibly–five— though she remained rigid in her position. Although he never announced a number aloud, he made sure to decide beforehand how many stripes he would dole out, lest he be too harsh–six, and she squeaked– or, as he more often wished to be–seven, a hard stroke near her thighs– too lenient. He allowed number eight to fall diagonally across her backside, which glowed red. As the last stroke hit home he dropped the belt on the floor.

Hearing the clank of the buckle hit the carpet, Lilly knew it was over. She turned and plowed into his open arms, sobbing and apologizing and tripping over her jeans. “Shhh, lovey, it’s okay, shhh…” he crooned, stroking her hair and back and hugging her tightly. As she calmed he guided them back to the bed, pulling her gently into his lap, doing his best to keep her weight on her thighs.

As her tears slowed he kissed her wet cheeks, and they rocked slowly back and forth. Eventually she turned her brown eyes upward and he knew she was okay, ready to move on. He set her back on her feet as he stood, gathering his belt as Lilly eased her jeans up over her sore rear end. She slipped on a pair of house shoes as they both stepped gingerly around the broken glass and out to the balcony, settling into the cheap plastic chairs that took up the small space, Lilly sitting down slowly on the white chairs. After a moment Adam said, “You could make a home on the moon if that’s what you wanted. I know that. You know I know that.”

And Adam really believed it was true. Tonight’s spanking had nothing to do with her maturity level or abilities. The session had little (if anything) to do with their heated argument, except as a catalyst for the vase-throwing. Adam and Lilly fought sometimes, as most couples did. Truth be told, Lilly liked to fight sometimes. She liked the yelling, the venting, the energy, the making-up. Spanking had been a part of their relationship from the beginning, both as a playful bit of their sex life and a serious consequence. However, Adam was no more in favor of micro-managing than Lilly was of being managed. Discipline was reserved for things they found mutually unacceptable– throwing vases being one of those things. Usually, spankings were merited because Lilly pushed for them. Before she met Adam, she internalized everything, allowing stress to build and avoiding small problems until they became too large for her to face, sending her into a fresh melt-down every few months.  She knew what she wanted from him, though, and told him from the beginning.  Truthfully, she still internalized most things, but now Adam could read her like a book, could see the subtle signs and the hidden warnings, could coax the stress out on most occasions. Rarely did things get to the point of a mini-tantrum, but when they did Adam dealt with her swiftly, firmly– not because he found such behavior unacceptable, but because she did.

Of course, tonight had been a surprise. He didn’t think she’d planned to throw the vase any more than he’d expected her to.

“I’m sorry,” came her now-quiet voice. “I shouldn’t have jumped down your throat like that. I just felt… personally responsible for your hesitancy.” She reached out for her husband’s hand, resting their entwined fingers in her lap before continuing, “I’m just… I’m so ready to be somewhere new. And I’m ready to experience something new. This maybe be a different place for you, but I’ve never lived anywhere else. I want a change.”

Adam slowly nodded his head and gave her hand a squeeze. “I think you’re right and wrong. You’re right, I have gotten cozy here, and I’m known to drag my feet. I don’t think up and leaving as soon as you get your diploma is the wisest choice.”

It was her turn to nod thoughtfully. “So, a compromise?” Adam smiled and opened the floor for bargaining. “We save for a year and then move.” Lilly’s eyes went wide. “No way, Hose. One month from graduation.”

“In your dreams!” he replied. “Six months.”

“Move in the middle of the holidays? You are out of your mind. How about we stay the summer?”

Adam mulled it over. “End of the summer… okay, but we don’t start packing until the first day of school for the poor saps you’ll be leaving behind at the University.”

She grinned at him, standing and tugging him up as well. “You’ve got a deal,” she said as they embraced. He leaned in for a kiss, lingering afterward before tucking his face in at her shoulder, feeling her soft wavy hair brush his skin. They held each other for a while before unfolding. Lilly cast Adam a serious look before she turned towards the door. “I’m mostly excited to be getting rid of that ugly old garden gnome your aunt sent for Christmas. It will definitely be getting lost in the move.” She bit her lip, trying not to smile as she baited him.

He’d pulled her back from the door and had her leaning over the waist-high balcony railing before she’d finished the sentence; her hair fell in front of her face as she shrieked and giggled and struggled to free the wrist that was now pinned to the small of her back. She reached back with her other hand, only to have it entangled in the same long fingers, one of his big hands now holding both of hers in place. “You spoiled little thing,” he said, close to her head. “My Aunt Sally loved that gnome.” As she giggled he moved his lips to the edge of her ear, his tone changing, whispering, practically growling, in his beautiful voice (and turning her small laughter into a subtle moan), “Silly garden ornaments should be the furthest thing from your mind right now, young lady.”

Her heart fluttered and she felt the familiar chills run down her spine. She bucked backwards against his hands in what she would playfully claim was a move to free herself, though in reality she was providing what she knew would be an irresistible target. And of course the swats came, light and quick, peppering her freshly spanked backside as she shrieked almost silently, acutely aware of the possibly listening neighbors, struggling only because she liked to feel his grip tighten. His hand came down one final time, hard, centered, unexpected in its force, while his other hand released her wrists. She emitted a loud unintentional yelp, which caused her to blush as she turned around indignantly. Before she could gather her thoughts he scooped her up into his lean arms, speaking slowly into her ear as he carried her back inside and deposited her in the bedroom beside the scattered green glass.  “Now… you’ve got a mess to clean up!”

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