Erotica and writing by

Ariana Paige

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Mile High Punishment

We were forty thousand feet over Utah, midway through our flight to Las Vegas for a much needed long-weekend. We had the usual casino plans – lose a few hundred bucks playing cards, catch a show or two, and just relax by the pool in between.

My boy was by my side. We had lucked into a row to ourselves. He was playing a game on his phone, and I was flipping through the pages of a magazine. I turned to him and asked him to get my a bottle of water from my bag in the overhead bin.

I know he was lost in the casualness of travel and focused on his game, but he let out a huff. He switched off his phone and started to stand up. Still, the unmistakable air of annoyance filled the air, first from him and then from me. As his Mistress, I tried to be understanding of his innate humanness. We do all have moments, but it pissed me off when he expressed them, especially over something so trivial as fetching my drink.

Ordinarily, he was quick to the task, often recognizing my needs before I even spoke them. This time though, he had lost himself in the moment. I didn’t care that no one else on the flight new that we were Dominant and submissive. I didn’t care that he might be tired or preoccupied or anything else. I had spent two years training him to be my boy. I wanted my fucking water, and I expected him to get it.

“Stop,” I said.

He looked down at me from the aisle. His eyes looked tired. He hated to travel, but I had insisted that I wanted him by my side for this trip. I could tell he was bothered, but that didn’t matter. Right now, he needed to be reminded of his place.

“Go to the lavatory and wait for me there,” I told him, my eyes shooting daggers.

He nodded, and softly said “Yes, Ma’am.” I could see in an instant that he knew he was in trouble, which only made his face appear even more frustrated.

I watched him trudge slowly toward the back of the plane. His shoulders were slung low, and his head was bowed. He knew he was in trouble. I watched to see which door he entered and watched it close behind him. I flipped through my magazine for a few minutes longer. I loved making him wait for his punishment. It gave me a chance to let the anger of the moment fade, but it made his feelings of remorse and regret grow deeper.

I tucked the magazine into the pocket in the seat in front of me and slid out into the aisle. I took a second to straighten out my skirt and strode past my fellow passengers to the back of the plane. I turned the knob on the unlocked lavatory door, and found my boy standing with his black jeans about his ankles. I stepped inside the tiny chamber with him.

“I see you’re ready,” I chuckled. “You might have locked the door. What if someone other than your Mistress had opened it?”

“I would have deserved the embarrassment, Ma’am,” he said.

“Perhaps, but they wouldn’t have.”

He only nodded.

“Now, turn and stand over the toilet,” I snapped. I pushed him forward against the wall. His bare ass tipped slightly upward, giving me a more proper target. The lavatory was tiny, but I had ample room to make my point. “You do know why I sent you back here, right?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered. “I had an attitude.”

“Good, boy,” I told him, running my hands over his cute little butt. “I’m glad you recognize your bad behavior. However, I am not going to put up with that kind of shit for the rest of this trip.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said.

“We have only just left,” I said, digging my manicured nails into his tender skin. “I expect you to show me the same fucking respect and attention that you do when we’re at home.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered, wincing a little, the side of his head pressed firmly against the lavatory wall.

“Now, I am going to give you some spankings, and they are going to hurt.” I released my grip on his ass and gave it a few soft slaps. “I don’t think you want the entire plane to know what a bad boy you have been, so I suggest you stifle your discomfort.”

He nodded and tipped his ass up a little more. I loved seeing him this way, so compliant, so eager to take his licks whether he had earned them or not.

I shifted my body toward the door and pulled back my right hand. The sound of the smack resonated off the walls of the tiny room. I smacked him again, harder this time. He pulled his head back with the blow. He held his eyes shut tight, and his lips sealed.

“Don’t forget to breath,” I ordered him. “I don’t want you getting all faint.”

He nodded, and I spanked him more, repeatedly striking the same spots on each cheek ten more times. His firm ass jiggled against my hand with every swat. When I was done, I cupped one butt cheek. I dug my nails into his skin again and drug them across his flesh. He leaned into the wall harder, his ass muscles clenching in response to the intense pain.

“You don’t like this, do you, boy?” I snarled.

“No, Ma’am,” he cried out.

I dug my talons into his skin harder and drug them across the two red spots I had made on his ass. I reached one hand up and grabbed him by the hair and yanked his face to where I could see it. His eyes were watering.

“Tell me, boy,” I spit into his ear. “What is it that Mistress does not want?”

“She doesn’t want a boy with a bad attitude,” he muttered, nearly sobbing.

“Good boy,” I said. I took a quick peak down at his ass. My nails had left marks across his broken skin. A few of the marks bled slightly. I ran my finger over one and put it to my lips. I licked them slowly, tasting him on my tongue.

“Now,” I said, shoving his face back against the wall. “I want you to take some time to compose yourself and then join me back at our seats.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said. “Thank you, Ma’am.”

I unlocked the door and then stopped. I patted his ass a couple times, feeling the warmth from the spankings. “Oh, and boy,” I said, laughing out loud, “welcome to the real mile high club.”

I stepped outside and walked briskly back to our row. I took my seat, and slipped off my shoes. I swung my legs up across the seats. I deserved a foot rub after all that trouble. But first, he would have to get my water.


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