While waiting to board my flight from LAX to Seattle to visit friends, I nervously checked the weather report on my smartphone and noted that a huge storm that was raging.  I knew that meant extra turbulence during the flight and for a minute I actually considered driving the 1,000 miles to Seattle instead.  I took another Valium and leaned back in my seat, eyes closed, trying very hard to just relax.

We finally boarded and I was seated next to an older, handsome and very refined looking gentleman.  He smiled at me as we settled in and we made small talk about the weather.  He kindly assured me we would not crash and burn during this flight, we would land in Seattle safe and sound.  I didn’t want to be rude but he was certainly no expert and I was 90% certain we would end up crashing into a field somewhere because of this fucking storm!

I ordered a drink almost immediately and then another.  Thank goodness for vodka.  My seatmate ordered a drink as well and we graduated into more “intimate” small talk, such as what we did for a living, did we have children, pets, favorite movie, etc.  I think he noticed my white knuckles and was trying to calm my nerves.

When the flight attendant nervously informed us that we were hitting bad weather and could we all take our seats and buckle up, please, just as a precaution, I downed my last drink and grabbed my seatmate’s hand.  He looked at me, surprised.

“I’m sorry to be so bold, but if this plane goes down, I’d like to be holding the hand of a very nice person while I die.” I said, chuckling nervously.

He laughed and patted my hand.  “It’s quite alright and I don’t mind.  If it makes you feel better I’m glad to help.”  His eyes widened as we hit a nasty pocket of turbulence.

“Fuck!” I whispered loudly.

“Look.” he said.  “Think of it this way.  There’s really nothing we can do about this.  Just pray or send positive energy out or whatever makes you feel better.  Why don’t you close your eyes and think about something really pleasant.  No matter if we hit more turbulence, just focus on this pleasant image and don’t deviate from it.  Okay?”

“Okay.  Okay.  Thank you.”  I leaned back in my seat, closed my eyes and started to think about my pug Lola and flowers and rainbows and chocolate cake but none of that really made me feel better.  I focused instead on the firm, large, warm hand that was now holding mine, absently caressing my fingers.  I concentrated on how nice it felt.  I began to imagine that same hand moving over my thighs and squeezing them, his fingers lightly traveling up my body to my tits, holding them firmly and softly pinching my nipples.  I let out a soft moan.  In response, he patted my hand and whispered, “It will be fine.”  I smiled slightly.  If he only knew what I was cooking up in my brain.

I continued my mental relaxation technique.  Now, his hands were undressing me, now they were holding my ass, now they were maneuvering my body to lie flat across his lap, on my belly, my head dangling towards the floor.  Now he was sliding his fingers into my wet pussy and he finger fucked me gently.  I shifted in my seat as my clit began to throb.  Again, he gave me a reassuring pat on my hand.

I kept my eyes closed and imagined what this big man might say to me as  I lay across his lap.  “Have you been a bad girl?”  he asked.

“No, Daddy.  I’ve been good.”  I assured him sweetly.

“I don’t believe you.”  He shoved his fingers deeper inside me and I cried out in pain.  “I believe you’ve been a little slut, haven’t you?”

“No…I promise, Daddy.  I’ve been good.” I pleaded.

“Daddy thinks you’ve been naughty.  And you need to be disciplined.”  He rolled up his sleeve and brought his hand down right on my ass, hard.  The sound was a loud clap and it sent shivers up my spine.  “Count out loud.” he commanded.

“One…” I said weakly, my breathing already starting to get faster.  His big hand came down even harder this time.  “Two!”  I cried out.

“You’re a dirty, dirty little whore, aren’t you?”  Daddy asked as he pushed his thumb into my ass.

“Yes, yes, yes.  I am, Daddy, I’m sorry!”  I bit my lip as he pushed his thumb in deeper then pulled it back out.  “THREE!”  That one would surely leave a welt.  He was softly panting as he lay his hand across my ass over and over, harder each time until I finally reached ten.   My ass cheeks were on fire.

“You know that Daddy loves his favorite girl, don’t you?” he murmured softly as he gently rubbed my injured ass.

“I love you too, Daddy.  I promise to be good.”

“Daddy doesn’t want you to be good.  Now get on your knees like a bad girl and suck Daddy’s big cock.”

Just as I was climbing off of Daddy’s lap, the flight attendant announced we would be landing in Seattle shortly.  Her voice sounded bubbly and reassuring and her face looked completely relieved.

“Well, it appears we live to see another glorious day.”  my Daddy said as he squeezed my hand.  “We weathered the storm!”  We laughed together.

“Thank goodness!”  I said.

“You seem very relaxed now.” he observed.  “Did you have a good image to focus on?”

I laughed.  “You might say that.”

“Oh… good.  Would you like to share?”  he asked.

“How about I tell you over a drink at the airport lounge?” I suggested smiling at him.  “Unless you’re in a hurry to get to your destination?”

He smiled back at me.  “No hurry at all.”

I met with my friends the following morning, much later than expected.

“Good flight, Sabrina?”  my friend Megan asked.

“Excellent flight.”  I responded.

“You know you should really rest while you’re visiting.  I noticed you’re walking with a slight limp.  Did you hurt yourself during a run or something?”  she said helpfully.

I agreed that I should rest.  After all, a rough spanking from Daddy does take its toll on a girl’s ass.

Let me be your naughty girl who needs a spanking!



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