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8. One Thousand Feet

Spanking Story


The paddle teaches a student pilot to handle her stressful workload

«Beginning Part 9»

One thousand feet above ground level on the downwind leg of her circuit, 'Academy A' surrounded Diane, red text branded her Piper Archer single prop aircraft, sky-high letters screamed across the roof of her flight training school and the trusted logo titled every checklist.

"Before Landing Checklist," she called. Her instructor, who'd trained here ten years ago, pulled out the laminated checklist and called each item. Scanning her instruments, she checked switches and gauges, returning clear-cut responses. 

She reduced her power to 1500 rpm, applying ten degrees of flaps. Turning onto base leg, she selected twenty-five degrees of flaps, slowing to seventy knots. Circuits passed in a ritual of fast precision, allowing no daydreaming. She turned onto final approach, aiming dead center for runway two six. Two hundred feet from touchdown, she called "Stabilized."

"Check," her instructor replied.

Airline checklists and professional cockpit manner ruled the flight school. Every student learned standard operating procedures, even in her single-engine Piper Archer.

When landing was inevitable, she reduced her speed. Flaring her aircraft, she raised her nose. Landing the main wheels, she settled her nose wheel onto the runway at sixty-six knots, dead straight. Rolling to a steady taxi speed, she turned off the active runway, parking on the flight school apron. Hours of landings, taking offs, and swift circuits had made her muscle memory instinctive.

"Diane, we'll solo you next week."

"Thanks," she said.

Pressure pounded her heart. Flying solo was her initial milestone. It led to a check-ride beside an examiner and her private pilot's license. Flight schools cultivated airline relationships to offer their students future employment. Sent to 'Academy A' by Diamond Cross Air's Chief Pilot, she was under tremendous pressure to succeed.

Grabbing her branded flight-school backpack from her classroom locker, she shouldered her weighty manuals, heading to her blue Honda HR-V. Taxis and casual lifts had slowed her down. A week after arriving, she'd visited the nearest dealership, leasing her Honda. Unlike her struggling fellow students, her substantial salary smoothed everything.

Her roommate Tamsin was bent over, her manuals spread across the Honda's hood. Tight black uniform pants outlined her gorgeous backside and amazing legs. Ordered into uniform on their first morning, sharp black dress pants and tailored white shirts flattered their feminine curves. Their alternative short black skirts suited formal occasions, but not the cockpit. Adding epaulettes with a single stripe, they'd sat alongside the guys, ready to learn.

Diane adored her uniform. Like everything about their education, their uniforms made them behave like professional pilots. Three pairs of pants, one skirt, one black tie and seven white shirts gave her an efficient washing rota.

"Hey babe," she called.

Tamsin collected her worn manuals, dropping into the passenger seat. The only female students, they shared their apartment while guys shared in fours. Their accommodation provided by the flight school, forty-eight hours after her conversation with Doug Diamond, she'd arrived at Vista Ridge Apartments and met Tamsin.

"Good flying?" she asked.

"Landed on the spot, every time."

Diane grinned. Eating, drinking and consuming flight theory, their toughest hours were in the air. Landing in the touchdown zone had eluded them at first. Fearful of the fast approaching ground, they'd delayed hitting the tarmac until halfway along.

"I might fly solo next week," Diane said.

"Me too."

"Do they warn us to make us stress?"

"I can't stress any more."

"Me either."

Driving home to their shared flight school apartment, she reflected. She'd killed her early stress with Neil's help during a Sunday trip home. Sharing her notebook, she described failures she'd recorded. Each could cause an accident. Her determination driving his judgment, he'd delivered two incredible swats on her panties for each failing. Bent over their couch, pain had replaced guilt, her prideful obedience launching fusillades of fire into her obedient sex. Grateful for his firm hand, she'd fucked him before falling flat asleep until he'd woken her for dinner with Kate and Ben.

Meeting Kate had been a revolution. She was knockout beautiful, Ben punching above his weight. At the restaurant, he'd pulled out her chair, his chivalry surprising Kate because she'd sat with extraordinary care.

Fearful she hadn't been a fabulous dinner companion, she'd apologized to her new girlfriend. The polite girl had never mentioned her headline grabbing moment. Her instructor's opinions carried more weight that the world's press. She now recognized her actions as heroic, but preferred not to dwell.

Normal life was progressing while she flew. Studying aircraft hydraulics furnished her with critical knowledge, her flying hours critical skill, her Honda efficient movement.

Turning off the highway into Vista Ridge Apartments, she parked her car below their home. Heading upstairs, she recognized his handsome head before his hard body and bag slid into view. 

"Neil," she cried, running towards him.

Scooped into his arms, he was the best sight in her world.

Introducing Tamsin, they entered the apartment. 

"How long are you staying? You didn't call. I've got to study extra tomorrow. I might fly solo on Monday."

He stilled her waving arms. "Only tonight."

Her heart swallowed him whole. He'd driven the three-hour round trip for a single night with her.

The diner, two blocks from their apartment, served fabulous meals in record time, securing their regular custom. Dinner at 'Hi-way' didn't disappoint. Neil's approval stamped on their regular eatery, they returned home ready for bed.

In her room, Tamsin stripped to her delicate blue lace panties. Male company had boosted her evening. Diane's boyfriend had immaculate timing, showing a shrewd awareness of his girlfriend's stressful training. She could admit a frisson of jealousy. If he wandered into their kitchen in his boxers, she wouldn't mind. Lying on her bed, her imagination transported her hand into her panties. Nobody needed to know her roommate's hunky boyfriend had powered her private pleasure. She only borrowed his chest and his huge hands. Teasing herself with her imaginary man's dominance. He demanded her lithe body, his hands cruising her skin as she surrendered to him.

Closing Diane's bedroom door, Neil said, "Are you stressing out?"

"I'm trying to avoid it." Over dinner, she and Tamsin had summarized the systems they must practice again before going solo.

Reaching into his black leather sports bag, he pulled out their bamboo paddle. "Will this help?"

She nodded. Its eight familiar holes guaranteed solid swats. It always relaxed her after it had hurt. Stinging cheeks stole away her stress, forcing her concentration on her career.

She'd analyzed her reaction to their punishment regime. Knowing the physical pain, her commitment to their paddle hadn't wavered. Indeed, it had exploded. Giving control to him for a few quick minutes absolved all her responsibilities except obedience. She came away sore, but settled.

"Four solid swats on your panties. Punishment for letting your stress overwhelm you."

"Tamsin will hear," she said. "She often runs early. Can you punish me in the morning?"

"If there isn't an opportunity, I'll take you someplace. Don't add it to your stress load."

His promise pleased her. Offered a paddling, she wanted it. A stinging bottom would power her Sunday.

Sliding into her bed, his fingers slipped into her tight red and green striped string bikini panties. Bright under her blue jeans, she'd enjoyed being out of uniform tonight.

His firm finger circled her clit, teasing her slicked lips and returning to her wet clit.

"You're gorgeous," he groaned, thrusting his manhood into her tiny hand.

She flung back one arm, clutching her headboard and arching her back as he commanded her sex.

"I'm yours," she whispered, his finger thrusting her towards her limit.

"I have to paddle you in the morning. Punish you for poor stress management."

"You'll order my jeans down, make me strip," she gasped.

"Yes, I will," he said, rubbing himself in her grip.

His huge hardness thrust against her slight fingers as he piloted her clit. "You slam a hard paddle into my soft cheeks, knowing it hurts. You punish me."

"It's my duty, and it does you good."

"It does me good," she groaned as her sex nudged against her flight ceiling.

"Hold it," he growled, "or I'll add swats for disobedience."

Teetering on the edge of a dive, she balanced herself on his orders.

He whispered in her ear, "I'm going to thrash you in the morning."

"Thrashed," she cried as she came, soaking herself in hot liquid love.

He came, spreading his pleasure all over her hand. Lying back, glowing with satisfaction, she licked her hand, her eyes on his.

"I didn't give you permission to come," he said. "Two extra hard ones on your bare bottom. Will you sleep with your paddling hanging over you?"

"Like a baby. It's good for me," she murmured.

Diane's apartment door slammed, waking her. She smiled. Her roommate never slammed it, preferring a silent click inaudible in their bedrooms. Her smile burst into an adoring grin for her sensitive roommate.

Stroking Neil awake, her hand rejoiced in his solid hardness. "Tamsin's gone running."

"I want you."

"Duty first," she said, removing her hand.

Climbing out of bed in his tight white briefs, his manhood stretching them, he pulled their paddle from his bag. "Bend over the bed."

Lower than their bed at home, she rested on her hands, her skimpy red and green striped string bikini panties her only clothing.

"Learn to handle your high workload and process your stress."

She scolded herself as heavy wood rested against her cotton. She'd chosen a stressful career and must accept that. A slight grin broke out as she imagined the loud sex her roommate thought they were having. Solid wood whacked into her panties, the sound reverberating through the apartment. She gritted her teeth, hissing through her pain.

"You need this, Diane."

She did. Fire stamped into her cheeks as she relaxed into her punishment. Blazing heat burst into her skin as the paddle penetrated pain through her panties. Severe impacts spread her sting, dealing with her stress.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Stroking her bare back, he said, "Good girl. You need to be sorry. Now for your disobedience in bed."

He whisked her panties to her ankles. Bared without her consent, his powerful control taught a tough lesson. "You came last night when I ordered you to hold."

She loved his wicked mind. He'd taunted her, whispering in her ear. She couldn't hold out. Forced into disobedience, she adored his intolerance.

"Two extra swats. Thank me for each."

His kind hand withdrew. Intense fury lit up her butt as his swat stung dissatisfaction into her skin. Panting, she handled her pain. Her glorious, sensational release had been pure disobedience. He should thrash her. Offering her heart to him, she said, "Thank you, Neil."

Her words released, he responded. The paddle crashed into her girl flesh, leaving behind its vicious bamboo sting as ache blasted deep into her behind. He'd given her a precise order, and she'd taken pleasure, ignoring his command. Penetrating pain proved she'd paid the price. Sting suffusing her spanked skin, she said, "Thank you, Neil. I appreciate you punishing me."

"You can stand."

She did, turning into his arms. "Thank you," she whispered. "God it hurts, but it will stop me fretting about my solo."

Stepping from her panties, she admired her red bare bottom in the bathroom. Despite excruciating pain, she didn't rub it. Her punishment should hurt as long as he'd decided. Her cheeks bruised, bare and beaten, she respected him. Tomorrow her pain would deepen as it taught her calm obedience, while she soared towards her solo flight.

Showered, she dressed in tight blue jeans. Heat packed in her bottom, her discomfort multiplied. She'd didn't deserve to ease her pain. Her boyfriend had paddled her. She wanted to feel it forever. Hearing Tamsin's key in their front door, she went into their kitchen-living room. Pulling her sweaty friend close, she whispered, "Thank you, kind girl-friend."

Tamsin grinned. "Relaxed?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Make us breakfast while I shower and we'll get our books out."

She saw Neil off. Kissing him goodbye, she whispered, "Thank you for burning my butt. It'll de-stress me all day."

"Behave," he whispered. "I can paddle you harder."

"I promise," she sighed. His stern demeanor almost compelled her back to bed, but she owed Tamsin breakfast.

They tested each other on checklists, standard operating procedures, aircraft checks and emergency reactions until their Sunday descended into exhaustion.

Next morning, greeted by clear skies and bright sunshine, Diane's brunette hair showed no sign of wind direction as she approached the academy. Rubbing her sore bottom, her necessary gesture appeared thoughtful as she reviewed the flight roster. A pleasant, punished sensation teased her with subtle reminders as she moved.

She pre-flight checked her Piper Archer, smiling at other students walking around their aircraft on the apron. Today, she may fly her first solo circuit of the academy airfield. She'd know only when her instructor got out.