Bottoms Up for Sheila O’Shea,  a tale by Alex B

Sabrina Heywood felt the full effect of the wind-chill factor as she stepped out of a cab and onto 8th Avenue. The weatherman had predicted it would be mildly cool in New York City that morning, so of course it was below freezing. What made Miss Heywood especially angry about this was that she knew the weatherman personally. He worked just down the hall at the same television studio she did. "Why didn't I tune into one of the big networks?" she thought to herself as she wrapped her Gucci coat tightly around her tiny frame and headed into the lobby of the Bristol building which housed her agent's offices. As it happened, Sabrina did work for a big network. It wasn't one of the three giants of television, but it was in the top five and steadily becoming more popular every day. And "Sheila O'Shea", the program on which she played the title character, was the anchor for its Wednesday evening lineup. Sabrina had been exceedingly happy playing Sheila, the brash young female executive who struggled valiantly to balance her business and love life within a male-dominated corporation. She had never been bothered by the fact that the scenes depicting her romantic fantasies had run the gambit from playfully risque to blatantly raunchy. The storyline for the episode she was about to shoot, however, had her in a perfect rage. The plot involved Sheila's boss, Trent Clay, dozing off during a shareholders meeting and dreaming about Sheila dancing provocatively before him in a schoolgirl uniform. The dream sequence was to end with Sheila over Trent's knee getting soundly spanked for her inappropriate behavior. Sabrina charged into Art Raymond's office.

"This is what they want me to wear on the show!" she announced, throwing off her coat. Arty remained at his desk, staring silently at his favorite pain-in-the-ass client who stood before him in a plaid skirt, a white blouse and black patent leather shoes with white knee socks. At 47, he was nearly twice Sabrina's age and yet Arty couldn't help having his manhood stirred by the sight of this undeniably attractive woman in such an oddly fetching get-up.

"So that's your outfit for the season finale. You do look sexy in it."
"I look like a schoolgirl!"
"Yes, but then you always sort of look like a schoolgirl."
"What?"
"You know- the short, waif-like body, the pouty lips, big saucer eyes... You look like a teenager. It's the hot look. That's why they cast you."

Sabrina didn't feel like having this argument with Arty again. "Have you seen the script?" she asked angrily.
"Yes, I just read it. It's hilarious!"
"What are you- did you read the whole thing?!"
"Of course. It's great, especially the part where you- I mean Sheila, gets spanked! It's a hoot!"
"A hoot?! It's a disgrace! What about my- I mean Sheila's dignity?!"
"What dignity?! On last week's show you screwed the carpet cleaning guy... on the carpet... in front of everyone in the office!"
"That was a fantasy sequence!"
"So is this!"
"Yes, but it's not Sheila's fantasy, it's her perverted boss having a daydream." "Oh, so if it's your character's fantasy, anything goes, but a man has to watch what he dreams about. Kind of a sexist attitude, isn't it?" Exasperated, Sabrina took a moment to calm herself. "Listen, I just don't think that the most respected female on television should be seen in this outfit getting spanked like a child."

"The most respected..." Art began to laugh. "You are kidding, aren't you?"
"Excuse me, but did the readers of T.V. Guide vote Sheila O'Shea the most respected female character on television or didn't they?"
"That was three seasons ago, when she was a perky young female executive fighting sexism in the manly world of business."
"So?"
"So now she's a bony little brat who ruts with anything in a pair of pants. Believe me, there's nothing the viewers would like to see more than Sheila O'Shea getting her ass smacked!"

"You don't really believe that."
"I think they'd tune in to see it every night of the week."
"Oh, come on!"
"Want to bet?"
"Yeah!"

"Okay, I'll tell you what..." Arty said, pushing a button on his intercom. "We'll ask the audience and find out. Margaret?" he called to his secretary. "There's a pay phone directly across the street from here. Could you go over and find out what number I'd use to call that phone? Thanks." Arty then lead Sabrina to his huge office window and pointed to the street below. "We'll call that phone down there and ask whoever answers what they think about Sheila's character. You know- if she's a slut, does she deserve a spanking... and if they say 'no' to either question, you win. Just pick someone as they walk by the phone and I'll call them."

"Anybody?" Sabrina stared out at the window at the hundreds of pedestrians passing this way and that. "As long as they've seen the show, I'll accept their answer. Fair enough?" Sabrina thought about it. "What do I get if I'm right?"
"If you're right, I'll call the studio, tell them you refuse to perform the spanking scene and demand a rewrite."
"And if I'm wrong?"
"I get to spank your bare ass and you do the scene as written, without any complaint. Deal?"
"Um..." Sabrina hesitated a moment. "Okay, it's a deal."

As the two shook hands, Margaret returned with the number scrawled on a post-it note. She brought it into the office, handed it to her boss and left. "Okay, now pick somebody." Arty said. Sabrina's eyes scanned the crowded street for the nicest, most even-tempered face she could find. "There!" she said, aiming her index finger at a young, unshaven man in a thick sweater and a scarf who was carrying a small guitar on his back. He looked to be about 22 or so- probably a street musician, or perhaps just a music student. In any case, he certainly didn't appear to be the kind of brute that would want to see her character trivialized or humiliated. "The guy with the guitar?" Arty inquired. "Right. Let's ask him." Arty waited until the man was just approaching the phone and then quickly dialed the number. The two watched breathlessly as the young man walked past the phone, then stopped and looked around to see if anyone else was going to answer it. After a few more rings, he walked over and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" Arty switched over to speaker phone. "Good morning, sir." Art began in the style of a telemarketer. "I'm calling from Bristol East Surveys and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind answering a few questions for us." "Oh, okay." the young man said. "But I don't really have much time." "I understand. This will only take a minute. Do you ever watch the 'Sheila O'Shea' program?"
"Uh, yeah. I watch that one."
"Would you call yourself a regular viewer?"
"Sure, pretty much every week."
"Okay, good." Arty said, nodding to Sabrina. "Now, what you think about Miss O'Shea's personal life. How would you rank her level of promiscuity?"
"Her what?"
"Her sex life. Would you say she was prudish, about average or a complete slut?”

The young man paused for a moment.
"Mmmm... slut." Sabrina's mouth dropped open.
"How much of a slut?" Arty ventured.
"Well, I mean she sleeps with a new guy every other episode and in real life that's supposed to be like every other day, so I'd say she's a pretty much a hose bag."

On hearing this, Sabrina had to cover her mouth to keep from screaming. "Could you repeat that, sir?" Arty asked, trying not to laugh.
"I said she's a hose bag." the man said, speaking more loudly.
"I see." Arty replied, biting a knuckle in an attempt to keep his composure. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Sabrina losing hers. "And if you had a choice between having sex with Sheila or giving her a good spanking, which would you choose?"
"Seriously?"
"Uh-huh."
"Well, I don't think I'd want to risk actually doing her. I'd be afraid of catching something. But I wouldn't mind taking a whack at that cute little ass of hers!"
"So you'd like to spank her?"
"Are you kidding? I'd love to get that skinny bitch over my knee! Man, I'd yank her panties down and wale on that fine little-" Sabrina quickly picked up the receiver and slammed it down again.

"That doesn't count!" she shouted.
"What you talking about?!" Arty laughed as he pushed his chair from the desk and sat down. "We had a fair bet and you lost. Now get over here and pay up!" Sabrina's bony knees quivered as she watched her agent pat his lap invitingly. The thought of actually bending over his knee was overwhelming to her. It was at once frightening, humiliating and more than somewhat of a turn-on. She almost began to take a step in his direction when suddenly her righteous indignation kicked in.

"No way! Best two out of three!" she demanded. Arty sighed and put his hands up in resignation.
"Okay, pick someone else." Once again, Sabrina searched through the masses of people for that one sweetheart who wouldn't like to see her character taken to the woodshed. She spotted a lady carrying a bag of groceries. The woman reminded Sabrina of a great aunt she often stayed with when she was a child- a woman who let her get away with just about anything.
"Her!" Sabrina stated and pointed at the woman with the shopping bag.
"Fine." Arty agreed. "But I'll have to drop the sex part of the question."
"Just ask her whether I'm a slut and if I should be spanked."

Arty waited, then dialed the number and put the call on speaker phone. The woman with the bag walked right up to the phone and answered it. "Yes?" "Hello, madam. I'm performing a survey of t.v. viewers and was wondering if you could answer a few questions for me."
"Hmm. All right. I really don't watch that much television, though."
"I just want to ask about one particular program. Do you ever watch 'Sheila O'Shea'?"
"The one with pretty business woman? I love that show!" Sabrina grinned widely and turned to Art, nodding approvingly.
"Good." Arty replied. "Now what I want to know specifically is- what do you think of Miss O'Shea's sexual proclivities?" The woman paused. She giggled a bit and looked around to see if anyone was listening in.
"You mean the way she sleeps around?" Sabrina's smile disappeared. "That little slut should be ashamed of herself!" the woman continued. "The way she carries on! You probably couldn't keep her knees together with super glue!" Sabrina slapped a hand against her forehead in amazement. "What the f-" she began, but Arty shushed her and continued with the questions.

"And what would you do if you were Sheila's mother? Would you... spank her?"
"Spank her? No. No, I wouldn't do that." Sabrina's eyes lit up and she immediately began hopping around in sort of silent victory dance. "I'd take a belt to her ass!" the woman added. Sabrina's dance came to an immediate halt. "If she were my daughter and she dressed like that at work and slept with all those men, I'd take my husband's belt, bend her over the back of a chair and whip that sorry excuse for an ass until it was as red as a fire engine! Then you know what I'd do? I'd stand her at the dinner table and make her eat a big bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy. I mean, have you seen her lately? She's as thin as a toothpick! The poor thing probably has to run around in the shower just to get wet! Oh, and then I'd get a washcloth and scrub at least half that make-up off her snotty little face- " Once again Sabrina picked up the receiver only to slam right back down. Then she stood there, staring at the phone, gasping for words. By that time, Arty had already sat back down and was staring at her confidently. Looking over at him, Sabrina's lower lip began to tremble a bit as he crooked a finger and beckoned her to his side.

"You know, technically that woman said she wouldn't spank me."
"You're right.", Arty agreed and began unbuckling his belt. "She said you needed a strapping."
"No, no!" Sabrina cried, holding her hands out. Then she sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, I'll take what's coming to me. Can I have a few moments to myself?" She motioned in the direction of Art's private bathroom.
"Certainly." he said.

As Sabrina left the room, Arty quickly picked up the phone and pushed the speed dial button that put him directly through to Lyle Jensen, the producer of the ‘Sheila O'Shea’ show. "Lyle?", Arty spoke softly. "Speaking." "Listen, this is Art Raymond. I've got Sabrina Heywood here in my office and something amazing is about to happen. Is it possible for you to put the rest of this call through to all the speakers in the studio? I want everyone there to hear this."
"I think so. Why, what's going to happen?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. I'm going to put the phone down now. Just make sure this goes out to the whole studio, okay? Trust me."

In the bathroom, Sabrina looked down at a box of Kleenex and was struck by a clever idea. She began furiously pulling out dozens of tissues and stuffing them into the back of her cotton panties. Then she heard Art's voice from the next room. "Remember, I'm going to spank you bare-bottomed, so don't bother padding yourself." Sabrina gulped and slowly began removing the tissues one by one. A minute later, she came back into the office and slowly made her way across the hardwood floor in her white knee socks, having kicked off those uncomfortable leather shoes in the bathroom. She neared Arty's chair, but stopped short before she was within his reach. "Now, come on! You said you'd take a spanking on your bare bottom if you lost the bet. Don't tell me Sabrina Heywood, the most respected woman on television is the type to go back on her word!" Arty was careful to articulate so that everyone listening in would know exactly what was going on and to whom.

"Fine! I'll take my medicine!" Sabrina huffed as she reached under her skirt and lowered her panties which fell down her thin legs and directly to her ankles. She shuffled forward and allowed Art to guide her over his lap. He took his time lifting her skirt, carefully laying it across her back. He couldn't help noticing how adorable his client looked with her small, porcelain bottom bared and her arms and legs dangling helplessly on either side of his knees. "You DO have the most darling little ass, Sabrina. I don't know how I've kept from spanking it up until now!" Arty laughed.

"Just do it, asshole!"
"All right." he said, lifting his hand high into the air and bringing it down with a powerful smack.
"Yeow!" Sabrina shrieked. "Hey, I thought this was a friendly bet!" Arty's hand immediately smacked her bottom again. "Ouch! What the hell!" Two more spanks arrived in quick succession. "Ooh! Ow! Dammit! Come on, now!" And so it continued- swat after resounding swat interrupted only by the sound of Sabrina's angry squawking until the searing pain in her throbbing buns caused her complaints to melt into pitiful sobbing. Tears tricked down the young woman's kewpie doll face, but even though her ass cheeks were beginning to feel like molten glass, Sabrina tried to avoid crying out too loudly for fear that Arty's secretary might be listening at the door. As it happened, Margaret was down the hall enjoying a cup of decaf the whole time. Ten blocks away at the studio where ‘Sheila O'Shea’ was taped however, dozens of actors, engineers and crew members were listening intently with uncontrollable grins glued to their faces as they flinched in mock empathy at every echoing slap. Eventually, Sabrina's attempts to minimize the sounds of her suffering failed and much to the delight of all those secretly listening she broke down and began bawling like a juvenile being whooped for writing naughty words on the sidewalk. Finally, Arty gave Sabrina's bare fanny one last wallop before allowing her to stand. She quickly pushed herself from his lap and hopped lightly from foot to foot using both hands in a feverish attempt to rub the sting from her blazing backside.

"You are so fired!" she managed to hiss through tightly clenched teeth.
"We have a contract."
"I'll sue you for everything you've got!"
"I doubt it. But even if you did, it would still be worth it!" Arty replied with a satisfied grin.
"Bastard!" Sabrina growled, and then headed for the wet bar. She grabbed a bottle of vodka and the ice bucket before disappearing into the bathroom. Arty quietly hung up the phone. A minute later, he peeked into the bathroom where he found Sabrina sitting in the sink filled with cold water and ice cubes. She was wiping tears from her face between swigs from the vodka bottle.

"Am I really fired?"
"No." Sabrina told him. "But what was I supposed to say? My ass was on fire!"
"Yeah. I guess I really went to town on you." They both smiled.
"Man! I'm glad I'm not your daughter." Sabrina said, handing him the bottle as she climbed out of the sink. "You spank hard!" Arty handed his client her shoes as they walked back into the office where Sabrina began gathering her things together. She found her white cotton panties hanging from the branch of a potted plant next to the desk. She figured they must have landed there when she kicked them off during her ordeal.

"So you'll do the scene?", Arty asked.
"I guess so." Sabrina said, stepping into her panties and pulling them up into place as gently as possible. "Ow! Besides, after this, getting spanked on television will be a breeze!"
"So, no hard feelings?"
"Of course there are!" Sabrina smirked. "But I suppose I'll get over it... as long as everything that's happened here remains a secret." Arty glanced nervously at the phone.

"Ooh!" he said, making a sour face. "That might be a tad difficult." "Why?" "Okay, I'll tell you." He handed the bottle of vodka back to Sabrina. "But you might want to have another drink first."

The End Copyright © Alex B