Holtzmann's room was surprisingly feminine. Erin was always struck by the juxtaposition when she passed through the engineer's rugged lab and stepped into the room the blonde had moved into on the second floor.

There were twinkly fairy lights surrounding the headboard of the captain's bed that sat in the corner, and the mix matched quilts that covered it were soft and floral. She was fascinated by this side of Holtz—she supposed that it was the same side that compelled her girlfriend to carefully apply the eyeliner she wore under her yellow tinted goggles, and to sacrifice a significant number of precious morning-minutes to styling her hair in that effortless-looking updo.

The updo had been undone. Holtzmann's hair spilled over her bare shoulders in soft waves. She sat on her bed with her legs crossed under her, fiddling with the scalloped edge of one of her blankets. She was nude, except for her black underwear, and was backlit by the lights above her bed. Erin wondered if she was trying to kill her.

She approached the bed and held out her hands. Holtzmann took them, and Erin pulled her to her feet.

"I thought I said to wear nothing," Erin stood nose to nose with her girlfriend. Holtzmann reached down and pulled off her underwear without breaking eye contact. She dropped them on the floor, where they joined her burned jumpsuit and every other article of clothing she had worn that week.

The blonde looked nervous, and this delighted Erin. She was so used to looking to Holtzmann—ever so much more experienced and always slightly smug Holtzmann— for guidance in all things sexual. The uncertainty in Holtz's eyes was new. And the excitement caused by this development seemed to travel directly between Erin's legs.

"C'mere," Erin sat down on her bed and guided the smaller woman across her knee. Holtzmann inhaled sharply as her center came in contact with Erin's thighs.

Erin raised her hand up and brought it down sharply on her girlfriend's ass. The cracking sound that the contact made was satisfying, but it paled in comparison to the surprised squeak that escaped Holtzmann's lips. Erin had a good right hand. Having no particular interest in anything athletic, she hadn't found a way to put it to good use before that moment.

She wasn't going to waste the opportunity.

So she struck again.

And again.

And again.

She fell into a rhythm, alternating sides and moving up and down—wanting to give all of Holtzmann's ass equal coverage. She was pleased to see it turn pink, and then red.

For her part, Holtz was a mess. Between the erotic sting that Erin's hand was building—not being able to control the erotic sting that Erin's hand was building-loving the erotic sting that Erin's hand was building— while still being fully aware that the erotic sting that Erin's hand was building fucking hurt—she was on sensory overload.

Toss in the fact that her slit was rubbing against Erin's thigh as she writhed, and the poor engineer didn't stand a chance.

Every time that she thought she had a handle on it all, it was as if Erin could sense it (spoiler alert: she could). The former professor would pick up the pace of her slaps, target her previously untouched thighs, or strike with new intensity.

Holtzmann rewarded Erin's efforts with kicks, yelps, and moans.

Content with the cherry hue of her girlfriend's backside, and satisfied by quivering wreck she had reduced her to, Erin stopped. She rubbed gentle circles on Holtzmann's back, giving the blonde a moment to catch her breath.

"Are you going to be more careful on busts, Jillian?"

"Ugh," was all Holtzmann could muster.

"Hey," Erin chuckled and ran her fingers through Holtz's tangled hair, "Use your words."

"Yes," the reply was faint.

Erin removed her hand from Holtzmann's hair and dipped it between the engineer's thighs.

"Hmmm," she murmured as she felt the wetness, "I'm not sure how effective this was as a deterrent."

"It was," Holtz shuddered at the contact, "very, very effective."

Erin moved her thumb on top of Holtz's clit. Holtz was so revved up that it only took a few gentle circles before she was exploding against Erin's hand.

After she had ridden it out she rolled over onto her back—just in time to catch Erin licking her thumb.

"Gilbert," she said with a wolfish grin, "you're a goddamn animal."

Erin shrugged abashedly, feeling her face turn red.

"You just beat the shit out of me," Holtz mused, "and that makes you blush?"

"I did not beat the shit out of you," Erin grinned.

"You kind of did."

"You kind of loved it."

Holtz kissed Erin sweetly. Yeah. Yeah she did.

Notes:

Any interest in this continuing? I'm open to prompts/suggestions for stories along the same lines, too.