« Spanking Stories

Private Pilot Diane held her brakes hard at the runway start. Short-field takeoff required her to rotate airborne in one thousand feet, simulating a short airstrip.

Increasing her throttles to 2000 RPM, she scanned her engine gauges. All in the green. Glancing outside, she increased to maximum power. Eyes straight ahead, she released her brakes, unleashing the full thrust of her twin-engine Piper Seminole. 

Her multi-engine instructor beside her, she called "Airspeed alive." At seventy knots she rotated, rising one degree every second as she powered to eighty-two knots. Clearing the immediate airfield, her instructor confirmed their positive climb rate, and she ordered her landing gear retracted. Her twin engines powered her through eighty-eight knots and onto one hundred ten as she passed five hundred feet. Settling at 2500 RPM and one thousand feet above ground, she called "After Takeoff Checklist"

Her focus had shifted to her commercial license. Beginning with air law, her instructor had tethered her to her classroom desk for three days before introducing her to her new Piper Seminole. Twin engines altered her flight profile, range and safety. Her future career required a multi-engine rating alongside her commercial license.

She and Tamsin had celebrated their private pilot licenses with ice-cream sundaes at 'Hi-Way Diner', their official check-rides hours apart. Only a raspberry fusion sundae, a chocolate fantasia, and their favorite waitress understood their incredible disbelief. She'd invited Neil for an overnight stay. His brief spells in her bed kept them alive. After their private celebration, she'd fallen asleep in his arms and woken into slow morning sex.

Scanning her avionics, she loved her complex cockpit. Her Piper Seminole would carry her through instrument rating and learning to work with her co-pilot. Airlines treasured excellent crew resource management in the cockpit. Flying complex planes required a team who remained cohesive in a crisis.

Maintaining her altitude through her turns, she flew figure-of-eight maneuvers above two pylons. The pitch and roll of her multi-engine aircraft felt futuristic after her little Piper Archer. 

"Simulated Engine Failure," her instructor called without warning, reducing power to her left engine.

Yesterday, she'd flown her cushioned classroom chair, repeating her three-second reactions for hours before performing them in her aircraft at three thousand feet, with due warning.

Scanning her avionics, she identified her failed engine, decreased her pitch, banked into her working engine, and input rudder towards the good engine. Fluid reactions flowed through her muscles over three slick seconds.

"Well done, Diane. First class. Land the airplane."

Descending, she aligned her approach, controlling her airspeed. On final for runway two six, she passed her minimum altitude, her approach stabilized. Lowering her flaps to twenty-five, she announced, "Gear down. Stabilized."

Kissing the tarmac at seventy-five knots on one engine, she smiled.

Powerful when airborne, heavy Saturday evening traffic thwarted her ground progress. She'd dropped Tamsin at the train station to visit her parents before departing southbound towards Neil.

Her Honda HR-V only had one engine and couldn't outrun her Piper Seminole. Glancing at the surrounding traffic, she selected gentle music to descend her mind towards normal pace.

Neil had reported Ben and Kate were living together. Normality felt distant. She'd known Ben and Andrew for years, guiding them towards decent girlfriends. Kate was a catch. She'd enjoyed their phone calls. A rising commercial lawyer, only Andrew remained single. During their last conversation, Kate had mentioned serious girlfriend rumors.

She gave up trying to slow her mind, switching to a sizzling South African pop tune a foreign classmate had played. She loved her fast-paced, flying life. Pumping her volume, she bopped behind her dashboard as the road home opened up through the familiar pine forest towards her suburban condo.

Engine failure at any altitude was serious business. At ground level, her Honda crept from the highway, her fuel gauge showing no bars, her range zero miles. Switching off her pop hit, she slumped over her wheel.

She'd traveled between the academy, her apartment, stores and their diner, never glancing at her fuel gauge. Grabbing her phone from the wireless charging tray, she called Neil, locking her doors. He rescued her thirty minutes later. Extracted from her car by her man, he put her in the passenger seat of their trusty Toyota.

Leaving her Honda locked on the roadside, they headed home.

"We'll arrange fuel and collect your car in the morning," he said.

She'd have answered if she'd still been awake.

She sprung from their bed, ten hours sleep like a two-week vacation. Showered, she slipped into her ditsy rose and silver mini slip dress. Its flimsy cotton and narrow shoulder straps felt light and girlish. Her man had rescued her. He deserved slender girl curves.

She skipped into their lounge. "Thank you," she said, wrapping her arms around him as he scrambled her eggs, the scent of fresh waffles wafting under her nose.

"I'll always look after you," he said. "We'll collect your car after breakfast."

Powered by bacon and eggs, she slid on her silver sandals. At a gas station, he purchased a two-gallon plastic gas can. Returning to her Honda, guilt festered over their spoiled Sunday. Scheduled to visit Kate and Ben, she couldn't abandon her car.

Neil glanced at her bare legs beside him. A mercy mission, or day out, her presence was perfect. Her pretty dress proved she was his sexy girl, despite being a qualified private pilot. He contemplated paddling her for her mistake. Neglecting her fuel gauge, she'd put herself in an unsafe situation. Marking her bottom would mark the occasion in her mind. She deserved spanking. Passing a graveled track, they approached her car. A simple vision of perfect punishment flooded his brain. He knew he was right. She'd appreciate him not letting her mistake go. If she objected, her sore bottom would inform her otherwise.

Spinning their Toyota, he pulled up behind her car. She unlocked her Honda, and he poured fuel into her tank. Placing the empty container in his trunk, he heard her engine start. Returning to her car, he leaned in and kissed her. Soft girl scent engulfed him, firming up his decision. "Follow me," he said.

Her obedient mind massaged his firm command as she obeyed. Three hundred yards down the highway, his turn signal flashed. She followed him onto a bumpy track. Gravel tinged against her paintwork as the track curved through towering trees. Her mind working his firm command, his strict tone pinged her dutiful conscience. Guilt clenched her sex. Pleasure swept through her as he led her from the highway towards her stiff sentence.

She pulled off the pale gravel behind him. As her tall man got into her car beside her, his stern expression confirmed her guess. She faced immediate punishment.

"Out here, late and exhausted, you risked your safety," he said, his voice heavy in her Honda. "Beside me, you're safe, but your lazy mistake could have turned bad. You deserve a tough lesson. I'm going to belt you, babe."

His scolding shuddered down her spine. He was right. She hadn't considered her safety. "I'm sorry, I was busy."

"I hope that isn't an excuse."

"No, an explanation. I have no excuse. I deserve your belt." Accepting his judgment aloud, his powerful authority drove delicious vulnerability through her thin cotton dress.

"Good girl."

His commanding decision to deal with her thrust wet heat into her sex. She stepped from her car and met him in front, her flimsy dress teasing sweet sensations against her sensitive skin.

"Bend over your hood," he ordered. "It will help you remember why your bottom stings."

Guilt pouring off her, she surrendered to his tough justice. Resting her forearms on the warm blue metal, she bent low over her hood, spreading her fingers to hold her. Unbidden, her outdoor obedience spread sensational submission through her core. She glanced ahead and behind, checking they were alone.

Watching her, he said, "If someone passes, stay in place and take your belting. If they stop, I'll explain why I'm belting you."

Shivering in shame, embarrassment amplified her utter capitulation. Witnessed, she'd have to swallow her pride. She'd been a silly girl. Her punishment was fair. She resolved to maintain her dignity if anyone saw her, smile and admit she deserved her humiliation.

Without warning, he lifted her hem to her waist, exposing her rose pink bikini panties. Shame cascaded down her long, toned legs, delivering a salient lesson. She'd have preferred to raise her own dress.

His buckle clinked as he tore his ordinary black leather belt from his jeans. She'd never felt its fine leather. Delivered by his muscular arm, its sting would be anything but ordinary.

He adjusted his hardness in his jeans. Her smooth, submissive legs led to cute rose-pink panties. Bent for her belt spanking, her willing obedience rammed his hardness against his denim. Conscious his growing pleasure might cause him to deliver excessive pain, he offered her a chance to seek leniency. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. I'm sorry it's necessary, but I deserve it."

She felt him measure his leather against her tight cotton. Cool air whispered around her exposed bottom, shame burrowing into her soul. A deafening slap echoed off the surrounding trees as leather exploded across her butt. She fixated on her blue hood, rampant sting stealing her senses. Damn, that hurt. Bent in place, respect for his savage stroke burst through her body, soothing her sting.

"Thank you," she said.

"You wouldn't run out of fuel in your plane."

Assessing weight and weather, she'd have planned her fuel requirements, adding extra for safety. With one hundred and eight gallon capacity, her Piper Seminole always carried sufficient fuel. Her resignation complete, she bent deep, pushing out her panties.

"Good girl," he said. "You need this."

His guttural utterance flooded her with hot, sticky desire. Leather lashed her flimsy cotton, burning bands into her lazy bottom. It had been too long. She needed course correction every two weeks. Sweeping aside a cushion of air, his cruel belt stung her smooth skin.

She slumped her shoulders as fiery heat suffused her sensitive skin. Spreading her punishment down her bottom, his supple leather taught her accurate fuel calculations.

She swayed her hips, failing to ease her fiery sting. Every time his belt kissed her flesh with flames, her mind wallowed in its justness. She'd taken unnecessary risks. Paying attention to her instruments was essential.

The fresh bite of his belt burned her backside. Worthy of his thrashing, she loved his care and attention. Getting punished where she'd screwed up delivered meaningful pain. Belted in her bottom crease, her apology sprung from her lips. "I'm sorry, Neil."

Explosive cracks bounced off the trees as he branded leather fury above and below her crease, leathering her legs where it would sting while she drove home.

She cried out, powerless to escape his fierce justice, "I'm sorry."

Sting answered her, its application ceasing. Holding herself over her hood, she panted as her pain punished her. Consumed by his ready dominance, her sex spread slick pleasure down her lips and smoldering passion into her heart.

Stroking her back, he said, "You took your punishment well. Your risk taking annoyed me. I needed to belt you hard."

She'd never considered how therapeutic her punishment was for him. His admission thrilled her. He'd taken out his angst on her deserving bottom. She welcomed every ounce of her well-earned pain. "Thank you," she breathed.

Twisting her head toward him, his obvious erection respected her painful belting. "Thank you for being hard on me," she whispered.

Her honest submission shoved down his jeans. Tight white briefs followed. His manhood sprung to respect her, riveting her sex. She spread her legs as he moved behind her, gripping her hips. He slid her panties aside, his girth filling her wantonness. Splaying her fingers, she thrust against his driving force as he shoved her dress up to her shoulders.

Delivering solid strokes to her rampant sex, he rammed her towards her critical edge, plunging her forward over her hood. He hadn't discussed her punishment. He'd imposed it without debate. Her sex gripped him, squeezing admiration into her soul.

"You ordered me over my hood," she gasped, her inflection rising as his hardness buried deep inside her.

"I decide your discipline," he panted.

"Yes, you do," she breathed, pride pouring from her heart as he crowded her against her climax.

Trapped in her lace bra, her nipples craved fingers she couldn't spare. Forcing her breasts against the hood, she used his force to drive down her bra, scouring her rock-hard nipples against her Honda.

"I obey you," she cried, bursting joy into the forest as she came hard. He exploded into her luscious flow, crushing her against her car as they rocked with shared intensity.

Calm under him, she whispered again, "I obey you."

Overbearing trees observing them, they dressed. "I'm so sorry. I was stupid," she said. "Thank you for belting me."

He grinned. "Punishment brings instant order. I don't remember how to argue."

She smiled. "Remember how to belt me hard. I loved feeling the sting of your displeasure."

"Your careless risk worried and annoyed me."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I deserved my public disgrace. If anyone had seen you belting me, I'd have accepted my shame, proud of my punishment, proud of us."

Following him home, delayed mini orgasms surprised her as her belted legs stung against her seat. His sincere belting proved him to be her worthy man. He'd honored their agreement and taken command of her.

Replaying his dominance as she drove, she squirmed in her seat, her sex wet with exquisite pleasure she couldn't escape, her every thought swamped in humble submission. She squeezed her legs as his command of her body consumed her. Furious floods cascaded into her panties. Steering straight, she kept her car on course as sudden orgasms stole her mind.

Arriving home, Neil promised their delayed day allowed time to visit Kate and Ben if they hurried. She flung on her casual blue jersey-cotton mini-dress. Straightening her three quarter length sleeves, she smoothed the body-hugging pencil shape over her curves. Protecting her belted bottom, it left her lashed legs at delicious risk of embarrassing exposure.