THE AIRPLANE - Granpa
There are occasions when I feel the need to spank Maria for
correctional or purely selfish reasons, when the situation is too
public even for my notorious laxity where Maria's modesty is
concerned. Such a situation presented itself during a trans-
oceanic airplane flight.
We'd been enjoying the cocktail service and killing time by
playing cards for forfeits. Perhaps I should explain. We both
enjoy the thrill and risk of gambling, but wagering for money
between husband and wife has all the excitement of kissing your
sister. The transfer of money from our joint account to our joint
account is not a thing to be greatly feared. We play instead, for
forfeits. When I win it usually costs Maria a hot bottom or, on
occasion, an unusual sexual favor. Maria, on the other hand,
usually saves her winnings and uses them to avoid punishment at a
later date or as a means of increasing her wardrobe. Our card and
board games aren't boring at all.
Back to the long, but not boring flight. As is usual when
Maria drinks, she was losing big time. We have a very complicated
betting scheme which I won't bore you with now. Suffice it to say
that Maria was mine! The problem was the location. The 747 wasn't
all that crowded. In fact, we had a middle row of five seats all
to ourselves, but there were a lot of kids and older couples near
us and I didn't want to offend them.
To my right, on Maria's side, there were a couple of young
bachelor types who'd been giving Maria the eye and I would have
loved to make Maria give them a real show, but felt constrained.
The problem was that spanking, by its very nature, tends to be a
loud affair. A flat palm meeting the soft, fatty, tissue of the
female posterior at any speed makes a loud "splat!" sound that
would attract the wrong type of attention. What to do? The desire
to spank was strong and I knew Maria would submit, reluctantly,
but obediently.
To make it worse, Maria seemed smugly aware of my dilemma
and kept raising the bet, hoping to recoup her losses. I spent
some of my winnings by sending Maria to the bathroom with an
"oops" bag. When she returned, the bag contained her pantyhose,
brassiere and panties. She was wearing only a knit blouse and
skirt set which highlighted her figure anyway, but really did her
figure justice without the lines and straps.
She scooted back into her seat with a shy blush and gave me
the bag. The knit was loose enough that you could see a lot of
Maria, if you knew what you were looking for. I think the guys in
the next seats were wise and they showed a lot of surrepetitious
interest in our game and the nice way Maria was jiggling. The
next time I got 100 points ahead, something that normally equated
to a bare-bottomed spanking, I did the next best thing - the only
thing I could think of.
I made her pull her skirt up around her waist so her bare,
and still creamy white bottom was in direct contact with the
coarse, nubby fabric of the seat. The skirt was tight enough that
this maneuver also caused a lot of leg to appear, a fact not lost
on our observant bachelors.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of them poke the
other and say something that got both sets of eyes on Maria. She
was squirming, embarrassed, but she had her back to her audience,
unaware of what she was showing - a long smooth line of calf,
thigh, and the lower curved outline of a definitely feminine
bottom cheek! I didn't tell her and I don't think that anyone
else was aware. I was stymied too. I wasn't prepared to go much
further and couldn't wait the long hours until we were home
again.
I think Maria sensed this as she continued playing, betting
even more than before. I won again and for lack of anything else
to do, I gave her a blanket and said "your blouse!" Maria looked
at me as if I were crazy and showed every sign of balking until I
showed her what I wanted. I'd noticed that her skirt had an
elastic waistband, so I told her to slip the waistband of the
skirt up under her blouse and over her breasts, then give me her
blouse.
She obeyed and the repositioned skirt now looked like a
fashionable, if brief, mini-dress. Sitting, it barely reached
mid-thigh in front, and only by showing a lot of cleavage, could
she get enough slack to cover her bottom.
We played some more and I still won almost every hand. I
was at a loss for what to do with my 100+ points when the lights
went down and the first of two movies started. Thinking herself
spared, my slightly tipsy wife put her headset on and was soon
engrossed with the movie. Felling frustrated, I ordered another
round of drinks and sat back to wrack my brains.
I was stirring my drink when I noticed the swizzle stick.
It looked like a long plastic arrow. Hmm, I thought.
Experimentally, I held the swizzle stick flat against my own
thigh by its base, then lifted and rapidly released the tip.
Ouch! - it stung! But it hardly made a sound. I was sitting in
the center seat, so I pushed up the arm separating Maria from me,
as well as the one on my left, unplugging her headset. I pulled
on her headset lead, stretching it over to the jack on the far
left seat, which naturally forced Maria over my lap. Feeling
better already, I looked left and right. The plane was dark and
the movie seemed to hold everyone's attention. Slowly, I slid
the hem of the skirt/blouse up until my target was bare. I
couldn't see Maria's face, but I could tell her emotional state
by the tightly clenched buttocks, so white and beautiful in the
dim light.
I traced designs on the soft flesh at my mercy, enjoying
the softness and the shifting muscles under the cushiony surface.
I used the point of the swizzle stick to "write" letters on her
backside. She softened a little bit when I traced
"I..L.O.V.E..Y.O.U!, but tightened up when I tickled the cleft
between the globes of her bottom. I jabbed her a little with the
point, and she got the idea, opening to my exploration of her
person. The first bite of the swizzle caught her unprepared, and
she arched up, raising both her upper torso and her legs.
A motion to my right caught my attention. Maria's sudden
jerk had been noticed by one of the bachelors and his eyes were
riveted to the vee formed by her legs. I imagine he saw a lot of
leg, and maybe much more. I winked at him and gave him the "Shhh"
sign, smiling. He grinned and gave me the thumbs-up sign.
Maria now had an audience but didn't even know it. Keeping
alert for the stewardess and anybody walking up and down the
aisle, I continued to "swizzle" Maria's bottom until it was
criss-crossed with a network of fine red lines. Maria was in
constant, if limited, motion now, wriggling her torso against me
in a most enjoyable manner. Had she known about her two-man
audience across the aisle, I'm sure she would have kept her legs
together, but she didn't, and she didn't.
Sometimes she'd lift one leg, then the other, and once in
awhile, both. I could barely make out the pale faces across the
aisle, except in the occasional flash of brighter light from the
movie, so I knew Maria couldn't see them. What they could see was
flashes of girl flesh as Maria squirmed and the light from the
movie flickered - must have been something like a strobe light at
a disco. I kept the muted "snap - snap - snap" of the swizzle
going, working my way up the base of one cheek, then the other.
SNAP - SNAP - SNAP!
Maria was nude from the waist down and the paleness of her
calves, thighs and bottom must have stood out against the dark
upholstery. The appreciation of the guys was even greater when
Maria, foolishly, tried to get to her knees, presenting what must
have been quite a view to their unrestricted gaze.
I couldn't use the swizzle with one hand, but fortunately
the movie was showing a battle scene, and I timed my one and only
spank to occur at the instant an explosion was going off. I let
Maria go and she scrambled for the blanket in a hurry. Covered
again, she glanced right, turned back, then did a classical
"double-take." She saw the two grinning faces, looked into my
eyes for confirmation, then visibly, even in the dark, blushed
and hung her head.
"May I go to the bathroom," she asked in a small voice.
"Sure," I said, "but get me a pack of smokes out of my briefcase
before you go, thanks." She reached for her blouse, but I shook
my head. "Like you are, babe." She pleaded that she just
couldn't, but I reminded her of the dresses we'd seen in
California recently, and they were even shorter.
That part was true, but not by much, and Maria wouldn't be
caught dead in one. Her bladder made her decision for her. With a
blush, she tried to adjust the "dress" so it showed a minimum
cleavage, top and bottom. "Just by chance", my briefcase was in
the over-head rack directly above our row, nearest her enemies.
Maria made a discovery as she studiously ignored the
watchers. When she reached to open the rack, her skirt rose up.
I can guess how it looked behind, because in front I got a
glimpse of pubic curls. Redfaced, she tugged the skirt down,
dangerously, and tried again. This time she got the smokes, but
her breasts almost escaped. One brown nipple popped out of the
elastic completely and contrasted nicely with her pale breasts.
Blushing hotly, she climbed all the way over me to leave and she
walked very carefully and lady-like as she left, keeping her eyes
away from the guys.
Much later, back home, I had Maria put the same skirt on,
the same way, and fetch me something from the top shelf of the
closet. As soon as she went up on tip-toes and reached, two
chubby hemispheres of pale girl-flesh popped into view, just as
cute as could be!
No sooner had Maria gone than one of the voyeurs came over,
handed me a drink, and introduced himself. I asked if he was
enjoying the show. He responded in the affirmative, very
affirmative, but said he really couldn't see so well as he'd
like. He tole me Maria was beautiful and asked how I could get
her to do that. "Do what?", I replied. "Well, you know. Get her
to take off her clothes and fool around on the plane and all."
I informed him that what he'd been watching was a wife
getting spanked, which, while definitely sexy, was not sex. I
further explained our game and asked if he'd like to play. I told
him I'd give him the high sign when it was okay, then he went
back to his seat so I could set the stage with Maria.
Maria finally came back, subdued and contemplative. She
used the aisle opposite our gay bachelors. I had a drink waiting
for her and I waited for what I knew was coming. After a while,
during which Maria chewed her lower lip, alternately scowled and
blushed, and otherwise gave every indication of deep
contemplation, she spoke up in a timid voice. "You knew they were
watching, right?" I nodded my head. "Did I...you know.... show a
lot?" Again a nod. Another period of contemplation and
expressions of embarrassment, concern and, well, I don't know how
to describe it exactly, but it's related to both excitement and
curiosity.
Finally in a shy, semi-provocative way, "Well, do you think
they liked me, or do they think I'm a dumb floozy?" I told her
they probably thought she was a very lovely young woman obeying
her strict husband, and from what I could see, they thoroughly
enjoyed watching her get punished.
She seemed pleased with this answer. So, riding my luck, I
offered her a double or nothing bet. If she won, she'd be even.
If she lost, I would invite our friends to participate in her
next punishment. If she chose neither option, then she was to
remove all her clothing and position herself for the 100 she
owed.
That she had to think it over at all is very revealing in
terms of her feelings. That she answered by leaving it up to me
is very revealing in terms of our relationship. Particularly as
Maria would deny, heatedly, that she got anything out of a
spanking and would never, never volunteer for one. Well, as you
know, leaving her modesty and the welfare of her curvy bottom "up
to you" is very much like assigning a rat to guard the cheese.
I said, "We play!", and got the cards. As I was shuffling,
supremely confident of my ability to win, I observed my wife
closely. She seemed to be in a state of some agitation, from a
mixture of excitement and dread I suspect, but at the same time,
resigned to whatever the cards held. She played horribly, drawing
when she should have held, discarding when she should have kept.
I didn't need to look at my hand, I could see by how red her face
got that she didn't have anything. I won by a large margin.
Maria stared at my cards as if she couldn't believe her
eyes. She was in big trouble now and she knew it. She furtively
glanced at our neighbors, saw that they were very attentive to
the goings on in our row, then gave a sigh, hung her head and
waited. I leaned over, embraced her trembling body and hugged
her.
Behind her back I made the universal signs for success
(thumbs up) and just a minute (forefinger and thumb an inch
apart). I took a couple of pillows and placed them on the floor,
directly under the middle seat, in front of Maria. Then I coaxed
my entranced wife into a kneeling position on her seat.
Supporting her when necessary, I guided her head downwards
until it rested on the pillows, actually under the seat in front.
This left her bottom high, too high for covert punishment, her
back parallel to the seat in front of her, and her weight
supported by her head and forearms on the floor. She was in some
discomfort, both from her position, and from the fact that her
dress had slipped up leaving her fetchingly bare-breasted.
Maria, I might add, is pretty limber from frequent trips to
her spa, and it was really paying off now - for me. One at a
time, I had her slide her knees off the seat and viola! she was
mine! Maria was trapped, wedged between seats, head and arms all
but invisible under the seat in front, but her bottom very much
in evidence, blue skirt molded to and, tightly stretched across
her buttocks which were, as planned, conveniently jammed up
against and slightly higher than the edge of the seat.
I couldn't resist such a lovely sight. Who could? I tugged
her skirt up, up and over her backside and pulled it down the
other side revealing an extremely feminine posterior, if I ever
saw one. Maria's bottom cheeks were stretched tight and slightly
open, revealing most of her secrets, but not all. Thoroughly
enjoying myself, I did some fine tuning adjustments that enhanced
the situation. First I jammed a pillow under each of her knees.
This made her more comfortable and, by chance, raised her
posterior sufficiently so that the cleft pouch of her femininity
and its silken curls came into view, pressed firmly against the
front of her former seat. I then gathered the slack in her skirt,
folding it in and bucking it between her back and the seat back
in front. This left both breasts, tips touching the floor,
proudly displayed.
I've always thought enforced nudity was an integral part of
a young lady's punishment, but this was more than nude! This was
total exposure of every secret Maria had been taught to hide.
With her face, which I'm certain was blushing copiously, hidden
as it was, Maria was reduced to a body -more specifically, a
posterior, everything available for punishment or whatever else I
desired. I dawdled awhile, touching, checking, probing,
exploring. Maria tried to close up a little to lessen, even by a
bit, her complete exposure, but she couldn't. Her position vis a
vis the seats, wouldn't let her.
I sensed someone approaching and I instinctively threw the
blanket over Maria's charms. It was Roy, the guy I'd talked to
earlier. Again he'd brought a drink, which he handed me as he
slid into the seat next to Maria. "She wouldn't go for it, huh?"
he asked, and for a moment I was confused, knowing the vista that
lay between us. I looked, then realized he didn't know. All that
could be seen of Maria was a non-descript lump in front of an
apparently empty seat, looking much like a pile of blankets on
the floor. When Maria had bent down to the floor, Roy couldn't
see her, and had assumed she'd gone to the bathroom again.
Here it was. The moment of truth! Was I really prepared to
reveal my wife and totally humiliate her in front of a stranger?
You betcha! I sought Maria with my sock-clad foot and felt her
stiffen. The pile of blankets moved. "No, I wouldn't say that,"
was my reply as, with a flourish, I whipped the blanket off.
Roy's eyes fairly bulged. He looked at me, then at the pale
twin hills of Maria's bare bottom. "May I" he said in an emotion-
filled voice. I nodded and Roy, tentatively at first, then with
purpose, retraced my earlier explorations. I got my swizzle and
began snapping again, right against the base of Maria's left
bottom cheek. Roy reluctantly removed his fingers from Maria's
now thoroughly explored parts, and did the same. It was "snap
snap snappity snap snap" as we walked the swizzles over the
creamy flesh so accomodatingly presented to our gaze.
Constrained as she was, Maria couldn't move to any
appreciable degree, but she could, and did, tighten then release
her leg and buttock muscles providing a delightful, if obscene,
display of female anatomy. The now striped flesh of her bottom
fairly rippled and the rosebud of her rectum played hide and seek
with us. One minute, plainly visible, the next, lost in a shadowy
cleft.
Roy's friend, Gregg, had joined us and was staring in
appreciative silence. Maria was silent, not wanting to arouse
the occupant of the seat over her head, or to show her face to
those who were seeing, and abusing, so much else of her. Looking
down, we could see Maria's chest heaving and her breasts, pale
twin globes, jiggling and rubbing on the floor in a circular
movement. Gregg asked if he could play too, so I motioned him to
go around. I relinquished my place, and Maria was surrounded by
strangers and at the mercy of their whims.
Gregg had produced a rubber band from somewhere, and after
intimately familiarizing himself with the target area, began to
snap Maria's now red posterior with a "SPLATT" sound. Maria must
have felt like she had sat on an ant's nest. I may have been the
only one to notice - I don't know - but, it seemed to me that
Maria's motion had changed somewhat, that her vaginal area was
rubbing against the edge of the seat in a particularly wanton
way, to the extent that her vaginal lips were opening a little,
first to the right, then to the left. There was, I thought, a
distinct aroma in the air. It may have been my imagination. I got
my shaving kit and went to the bathroom to clean up, leaving
Maria completely at the mercy of her unseen tormenters. When I
returned, I realized how little you could see from the aisle, and
how unlikely it was for someone to associate what was seen with
what was happening.
Roy and Gregg had put down the folding table, so it was
just above the peaks of Maria's fanny - all that could be seen
was two pale globes bisected by a darker shadow. From their
guilty looks, I could tell that the boys had strayed from their
appointed task, but I'd expected that when I left, and who could
blame them? After all, how much damage could they do? The movie
was about to end, so I decided to put an end to the festivities.
Besides, I didn't want Maria to cramp up in that position. I
evicted Gregg, who went around and joined us on the other side.
While in the bathroom I'd discovered how to achieve the one
result of a spanking I hadn't thought possible given the cramped
quarters.
Sure Maria's bottom probably stung, but that deep-seated
warmth, only achievable with a hairbrush or a heavy hand, was
missing. Just before Roy and I helped poor Maria up, I rubbed a
generous amount of the deep-heat cream I use for stiffness, all
over the fatty part of her seat, being very careful not to get
any on or near, any sensitive tissues. With a joint pull, up came
a very rumpled, red-faced, thoroughly humiliated Maria. She just
sat there for a moment, bare boobs still in view, then thrust her
hands to her fanny saying "Oww, it hurts, it burns!!!" We sat and
grinned like cheshire cats as Maria squirmed and bounced and
gritted her teeth. Finally she sprung up and headed for the
bathroom, I don't think she'd even have remembered her skirt if I
hadn't fixed it as she left.
Roy, Gregg and I chatted - the guys enthusiastically
expressing their approval of the proceedings; full of praise for
Maria's beauty and submissiveness. I basked in the glow of
success and approval. When Maria returned, she was combed, made
up, and very shy. She kept her eyes downcast as I introduced her
tormentors to her for the first time, at least for this half of
her anatomy. Maria was obviously embarrassed by having to
socialize with people who, just a moment before had so casually
used and abused the most intimate parts of her person. But, as
she drank and the guys heaped accolade after accolade on her, she
seemed to relax and became almost kittenish.
Roy, I think it was, suggested we all play cards, directing
the question mostly at Maria. Maria blushed and stammered "for
the same stakes?" "Sure, why not?" was the almost simultaneous
reply. "If my husband tells me to, I guess I have to." Maria
said in a small voice and I immediately felt three sets of eyes
on me. The guys expressions were hopeful, expectant, while
Maria's was a combination of resignation and surpressed
excitement, if you know what I mean.
It was clear that the responsibility for the decision was
mine alone, and if I made her do it, then any pleasure she got
out of the shameful act was my fault as well. As I've never been
known for my absolute adherence to higher moral principles, I
laid out the rules for the game. It would be five card draw, with
myself and the other men betting cash. Maria, however, would
wager coasters at the rate of one to the dollar. Maria could keep
any money she won, but whenever one of us accrued at least 50 of
her coasters, she would have to redeem them in a manner
prescribed by the winner. To insure against duplicity, Maria went
through and initialed all of the coasters provided by a gracious
cabin attendant. While the monetary stakes weren't particularly
high, the presence of the coasters with their feminine "R"
scrawled in the center, kept interest high. Each of us was
building a stack of coasters, counting our stack during each
shuffle and deal, and Maria was putting away a fair amount of
cash. Maria, who literally had had her butt on the line, played
with intensity that matched ours, screwed up her face with dismay
each hand she lost, and chortled with glee when she won.
Inevitably, since coasters were going out, but not
returning, Maria lost. Roy, almost shouting, said "I've got 53!"
earning our row some dirty looks from the other passengers. Roy's
plan was simple, he sent Maria to the bathrooms, told her to wait
there, and to open the door when he knocked twice, then three
times in succession. Maria gave us a collective dirty look,
adding a "this is all your doing" caveat to my glare, and left us
to prepare for her ordeal. About two minutes later Roy left us,
giving us a satyric grin, clutching his coasters. Gregg and I
compared notes, he had 40 some coasters while I had over thirty.
It wouldn't be long now! We relaxed and waited, our thoughts back
in the bathroom. Since I wasn't there, I've had Maria write up a
short blurb about what was happening.
* * * * *
I went back to the bathrooms, as instructed and I was glad
to see they all were empty. The last movie was over and it looked
like most people were asleep. I was nervous, but excited too.
That Roy was kind of cute and I was curious about what he'd do.
When I got into the bathroom, I was mostly relieved to see that
it was way too small to do much of anything, not with two people
in here. I was still so nervous that I had to pee and that's
what I was doing when the knocks came.
I unlocked the door and let Roy in. He immediately embraced
me, giving me a big kiss and grabbing a handful of my bottom. To
tell the truth, it felt very good, but I know your rules about
that, so I struggled enough to get his attention. I told him I'd
gambled for spankings, not for anything else, so would he please
get it over with 'cause it was very confined in here.
I could tell visibly how badly he wanted me and how
frustrated he was and I remember thinking "Oh, no!" knowing how
he was going to take his frustration out. With some struggling,
he got by me and sat on the closed toilet, pushing me face
foreward against the opposite wall. My bottom must have been
right in his face. I felt my skirt being pulled up and tucked
into the elastic. Since I still didn't have any underwear, I was
bare from above the waist down, and I FELT bare.
He began by touching me, sometimes in a very intimate way,
but I couldn't complain, my husband did the same before, during
and especially after my spankings. Besides, I have to confess. It
felt very good even when he discovered how excited I was. He
tried to spank me. He really did, but the confinement of the
small room reduced his best efforts to mere pats. He didn't have
room to swing very far. I could sense his frustration. He even
pinched my bottom a couple of times and that DID hurt. When the
hem of the skirt fell down, he angrily yanked the whole thing
down until it was just a puddle around my ankles, making me gasp
as my breasts popped out against the cold wall.
I stood there obediently for a long time when nothing
happened. Then he asked, "Maria, did we make any rules about
where you'd be spanked?" I thought for a moment then said, "No,
sir. I don't think so." He had me turn around and told me to keep
my elbows on the ceiling. I did, but kept my eyes closed all the
time. Every woman knows what she looks like in that position. He
started touching again, and I really should have stopped him
'cause it didn't seem spanking related at all. I was acutely
aware of my situation. Here I was offering my naked body to a
strange man, bare bottom pressed against the cold cabin wall, my
legs pressed together, trapped between his knees. he kept
touching me and made me show him my readiness, made me move in a
shameful way. I was on the verge of climax when he tried to kiss
my breasts and that made me remember myself.
I think I said "The spanking, sir. The spanking please" or
something like that. He lapped my breasts, again and again,
making them jiggle obscenely, back and forth. He smacked them
right on the tip, flattening one against my chest, then smacking
the other one, making me move like a stripper. He even spanked me
on my tummy, below my navel, and yes, he spanked "there" too. The
spanks weren't hard, but the places he spanked were so sensitive
that I was doing bumps and grinds in reaction, wagging my breasts
around like a whore.
When he'd decided he'd smacked me the whole 100 times, he
stood up and pinned me flat against the wall before I could move
my hands, and kissed me with a long kiss that left no doubt what
he'd really like to do to me. With something like a sob, he left.
I turned to the mirror and looked at my traitorous body. There
was redness on my breasts and lower abdomen, and I could almost
make out a few finger marks. I fixed myself up, again, and calmed
down. I remembered I was about $60.00 ahead in the game, and I'd
had my eye on this cute dress for a long time.
* * * *
I'd known what Roy would try, and I also knew Maria well
enough that nothing would happen. While they'd been gone, Gregg
had checked out the upstairs lounge, found it deserted at this
late hour, and was anxiously awaiting his inevitable win. When
Roy came back he complained that there hadn't been room to really
spank her right in the bathroom, but we reminded him that he'd
made the choice. One look at Maria confirmed my suspicions.
Sexual frustration, like humiliation, really spices up a
spanking.
We started playing again, and Gregg was trying so hard to
win in a hurry that he played badly, lost a lot of money, and
really delayed his chances by about an hour. When he finally did
win, on a single pair, he grabbed Maria by the arm and marched
her towards the front of the plane. It felt funny, watching a
strange man lead my under-clad wife off to a private place where
he could humiliate and punish her as he wished. Funny, but not
unpleasant.
Her last glance, as she was led away, reminded me of eyes
I'd seen in the small animal section of the zoo. We waited, Roy
and I, for quite a while, each lost in his own thoughts; thoughts
centered on the cabin above us and what was happening there.
When Maria and Gregg returned, I could tell that something
had gone wrong. Maria was crying. Tears flowed down her cheeks
and I could hear her sobs and hiccups long before she reached our
row. Gregg seemed smug and somewhat self-righteously satisfied.
Maria refused to play anymore. So, with profuse thanks and
Gregg's taunting "goodnight Maria, hope you enjoy your seat for
the last four hours of the flight", our neighbors took their
leave.
As soon as they'd left, Maria came into my arms, demanding
to be cuddled, and sobbed uncontrollably. My shirt collar was wet
with her tears and when I let my hand slip down to her bottom,
gently slipping her skirt up, I felt the heat first. Her backside
was at least 10 degrees hotter than the rest of her body. As
gentle as I was trying to be, she still winced when I stroked her
bottom, feeling the raised weals that seemed to cover her from
waist to well down her thighs. From her barely coherent plaints,
I was able to piece together the following sequence of events
which Maria has read and validated.
* * * *
Gregg was no gentleman, like Roy had been. The way he held
my arm so tightly he scared me. he practically pushed me down the
aisle, smacking my ass with more familiarity than I liked. I was
only glad everyone seemed asleep, and I don't think anyone
noticed how he was treating me. When I started up the spiral
staircase to the lounge, he put his hands up the back of my
skirt. I pushed his hands away, but just as I got to the top he
yanked my skirt all the way down and I tripped, falling into the
lounge naked.
God I'm glad there weren't any night-owls in there. He
jumped on me and tried to rape me. He very nearly succeeded! I
couldn't move, he was straddling me, had my wrists held down to
the floor, and was kissing me everywhere. He only stopped when I
told him, in the most serious voice I could muster that I was
going to scream if he didn't stop.
He was furious! He snatched my skirt away and went over to
one of the chairs and plopped himself down in a sulk. I got up,
tried to cover myself with my hands and went over to him. I
pleaded with him, "Please Gregg, I can't let you do that.
Remember, we were only playing for spankings. I'll have to let
you spank me, but not the other."
He looked at me coldly, almost hating me I thought, and
told me "Okay Maria, I'll leave it up to you. If you don't let me
screw you, I'm going to give you the spanking of your life!" If
I'd had any clothes, I would have run; I almost did anyway. "I
can't, Gregg," I told him, "I'd really like to, but I just
can't!" Then I begged, for all I was worth, "Please don't hurt
me, please!" He grinned, but it wasn't a happy expression and
told me to move my hands. He just stared at my naked body for
awhile, then made me lie over the miniature coffee table that sat
just in front of his chair. I've never felt more vulnerable - the
cold table against my front, my bare bottom out in the breeze,
and a man that was furious with me somewhere just out of view.
And all this in a public lounge on a commercial flight, six miles
over the ocean, where anyone could come in at any moment.
Suddenly a searing pain etched itself into my bottom, my whole
being, and I hugged the table in agony.
HIS BELT! I knew right away from the times you've used one
on me, that I was being beaten with a belt! I wish I could tell
you that I was brave, but that would be a lie. What had seemed, a
moment ago, like a fun way to pick up a few extra bucks, was
going to cost me now. I bucked, I gasped, I yelped and I wagged
my fanny around like it was on fire, but still the belt came
down. I cried, I mean really, really cried, but it didn't affect
him a bit. I knew I couldn't take all 100 like this, I only
lasted about 25 when I rolled off the table, kneeled in front of
him, and pleaded for all I was worth, rubbing my burning bottom
at the same time. "You know what I want, Maria" was all he would
say. I almost gave in, I was that close. The only thing that
stopped me was knowing that if I did, you'd know and I'd get it
even worse. "I can't" I sobbed, over and over "I can't!"
We both heard the approaching footsteps on the spiral
staircase at the same time. I was happy we were going to be
discovered, even though I was naked, because whoever it was would
surely put an end to it. It didn't work out that way. Quickly he
grabbed my wrist, pushed me into the corner couch, and gathered
me into a passionate embrace. I was too stunned to move, then I
heard someone say "welcome to the mile-high club kids". I looked
up to see a flight uniform going back down the stairs and
realized that the cabin attendant, male of course, had totally
misconstrued what had been happening.
My heart sank and Gregg, with a wolfish grin, stood me up
in front of him again and said, "last chance Maria, what'll it
be?" I stood there, nude, rubbing my poor, welted behind and
wished I could with all my heart. I wanted to take the easy way
out. I pleaded some more, but to no avail. He motioned me over
his lap, and once there, I felt his leg clamp my thighs tightly.
I also felt his alternate instrument of punishment, pressed
deliberately against me. "If only I could!"
The chance passed as he gathered my wrists in his strong
left hand and pinioned them against the small of my back. I knew
I wasn't going anywhere now and my poor bottom was going to have
to absorb every bit of his rage and frustration. I bit down into
a cushion and it started. I got spanked as hard as I've ever been
that night. Before it was over, I was a sobbing twitching,
pleading pile of jelly as that belt raised holy hell with my
backside. I fought with every ounce of my strength, my fanny was
a glowing coal in a blast furnace, and still the belt, over and
over, again and again.
I have to confess that before it was over I told him he
could do anything he wanted to me, I even begged for the chance;
offering every delight I could think of (even, to my everlasting
shame, my mouth and backside). And I know I would have done it,
too. But it was too late. My frantic struggles, my obscene
thrashing against his manhood had brought him to the brink, and
there was no stopping him now. I guess I'd been aware of his
state, but my half of the experience was so unsexy, I guess I
didn't realize that his half was a lot different. I don't know
how or when he'd released himself from his pants, I don't
remember him ever letting go of my hands, but there he was, rigid
and insistent, rubbing obscenely against my bare flesh.
With a fusillade of the hardest handspanks I've ever
received we worked out way through his climax with him grunting
and me howling into the cushions. I felt hot globs of his
essence splash against my equally hot buttocks, running down my
legs and between my clenched cheeks. Much of it was spread over
and between my bottom cheeks as blow after blow flattened my poor
backside.
He held me tight as he finished with me, twisting my hips
so I escaped none of the disgrace he was heaping on me. I
couldn't move. Even the sound had changed to a wet, sticky,
shameful "slop!" telling me I had been used and tainted.
Afterward, as I lay there crying my head off, he breathed deeply
and stroked my desecrated and burning bottom. I knew I'd been
had, more surely and more completely than if he'd had his way and
raped me at the beginning. Much more than my body - he'd used my
pain, and made me disgrace myself by begging, to provide his
pleasure. I'd been used more thoroughly than if he'd had me in
the conventional way, and, to make it worse, I'd accepted his
money for the privilege. I felt totally used, and I cried for
shame as much as I did for the deep, roasting pain in my rear. He
knew, too, I could tell. He was as solititous as a new lover,
using a wet cloth from the bar to gently wipe me clean, helping
me into that stupid mini-skirt, offering me a cigarette, and
talking to me in tones of love. I wanted to die. I'd been more
than raped. He wanted to wait until I'd calmed down some, but I
needed to get back
to you, fast. I didn't care who saw me.
* * * *
I let her sob her story out as I stroked her fondly. She
couldn't bear sitting yet, so she was sort of curled up to me,
head on my chest. I waited until the worst of her crying was over
before I gave her the news. When I showed her the 60 some
coasters I'd won, but held, she gave the most heartwrenching look
of utter dispair.
Quickly I added, "I'll give you the same choice that Gregg
did." Maria's momentary look of confusion gave way to dawning
comprehension and ultimately, a shy, appreciative smile. I
grabbed a jar of cold cream from her make-up kit, and we headed
for the lounge like lovers. On the way we passed a cabin
attendant who looked wonderingly at Maria, then grinned in a
"what the hell" way and winked at me.
In the still deserted lounge, I inspected the damage, and
Maria had been pretty well marked, and would carry those marks
for quite a while. A little cold cream and some loving went a
long way towards restoring her self-esteem. As a gentleman, I
didn't point out the fact that her readiness and ferver cast
serious doubt on her claim that she hadn't been the least bit
aroused by what she'd been through. Since this is, after all, the
after-action report of a spanking, I'll let it suffice to say
that Maria did join the "mile high" club that night. Both of
them.
