When he spoke those words, he must have seen my reaction. “Oh, you know of what I speak, don’t you.” More of a statement than a question. I turned my head to look out the window. “You’re no stranger to discipline, are you?” I looked at him and told him that every now and then my boyfriend would take me over his knee and spank me. I couldn’t believe I was telling this total stranger some very private and intimate details of my life but there was something about the way he looked at me; almost as if he had some sort of pull on me. The flight turned bumpy and the pilot flashed the ‘seat belt on’ sign. I was thankful for the distraction and fussed around putting on the seat belt. “How long is your layover in Atlanta?” he asked.
“Almost 4 ½ hours,” I replied.
“Well, by time we get there it will be late afternoon. Would you care to join me for a drink and perhaps a light meal.” Again, I got the feeling this was more a statement than a request and I found myself telling him yes. The rest of the flight was uneventful. We continued our conversation about life in general, his business, my business, family, travel and such. No more was mentioned about discipline.
We landed and headed to a local restaurant in the airport. I wasn’t really that hungry so I had 2 white wines. I still had 2 more hours to kill and felt bad about taking his time so suggested that he go ahead and do whatever it was he had to do and I would sit and wait for my flight. “There’s only one thing I want to do,” he said, “and I want to do it to you.” He continued “I know had you been my girlfriend and had drinks with another man, I would have found that behavior displeasing. You would have been in for a very harsh spanking over my knee. I’m sure your current boyfriend would feel the same.”
I had to admit that Dan would be furious if he knew I had done this and I definitely would have been in for an ass warming over his knee. “Well,” Michael continued, “Dan won’t know, but you and I do and there is only one thing to do. And we both know what it is, don’t we.” Again, more of a statement than a question. I nodded. “Come,” he said. We walked over to the Airport Hotel, located inside the airport and Dan got a room. He took me by the hand and led me to the elevator. Once the doors closed he told me what a bad girl I had been, how he was going to pull up my skirt, pull down my panties and administer a very sound spanking to me. By time we got to the room my pussy was aching and I knew it was wet.
With no ceremony, Michael sat on the edge of the bed and motioned for me to come to him. I stopped in front of him and he lifted my skirt, pulling my panties down, exposing my pussy to him. He turned me around and looked at my ass. “Well, I can see Dan did quite an impressive job,” he said as his hands rubbed over my still sore butt. He took a pillow from the bed and put it on his lap before he pulled me over him. Dan had never used a pillow but I found out by using one, it puts my ass in a more optimal position to receive the blistering is was about to get.
Michael wasted no time in getting to the matter at hand. In no time he had my ass burning more than Dan was ever able to. The man was an expert, delivering each blow almost on top of the previous one to cause to greatest amount of pain, but moving slightly so they only overlapped. He too worked all over my ass and the back of my thighs and back to my ass then back to the thighs, spreading the fire evenly. I put my hand back to cover my ass but Michael easily grabbed it and held in behind my back.
I was squirming and kicking trying to move my ass around so they smacks would come to a place more to my liking but Michael would have none of it. He placed his leg over both of mine holding me so that I could not move and continued to spank me. When I didn’t think I could take any more, he stopped. He didn’t release me, but continued to hold my hand behind my back with his leg pinning mine down. He began rubbing my very heated ass and at first his touch shot more discomfort through me but slowly it began to feel better and I relaxed.
