Spanking the wrong man

This week I booked a budget hotel in North London to spank my accountant, a lawyer and some random third dude I’d never met, who’d found me on Twitter, and seemed a decent egg. The accountant had a bath, a slapped face and a prostate massage, and told me he’d put me on PAYE. The lawyer called me mummy, licked my stockings and had his anus flogged. I had a Cupasoup, watched Pointless and waited for my third. 

 

The third didn’t come. You needed a keycard to access the lifts, so I trotted down to reception fairly regularly to see if he was lurking. He wasn’t. I made friends with the receptionist, who must have twigged I was a good time girl, from my peeping stocking tops and many male visitors, but seemed immensely cool about it. Eventually, I got a message.

 

“I’m in the bar!”

 

So I squeezed my sweaty toes back into my stilettos and limped downstairs again, facing down the receptionist’s sympathetic smile. The bar was full of men. I sidled up to one, white-haired, despondent, clutching a newly poured beer.

 

“Michael?”

 

“So-sorry? No, love. I’m Tony.”

 

I sighed heavily, and sat down anyway. Tony brightened.

 

“Are you on a blind date?”

 

“No. I’m a dominatrix. Michael has arranged to meet me here for a spanking.”

 

The room quietened. “She wants Michael!” a man mouthed to another, across the room. They both shrugged. The room was entirely devoid of Michaels. Michael’s loss, however, appeared to be Tony’s gain.

 

“My goodness! I mean, wow! I didn’t know people like you actually existed! Like, wow! Can I buy you a drink?”

 

“Oh go on then, Tony. Why not? I’ll have a house red. Cheers.”

 

Tony had been stuck in this rather dreary hotel for work for a whole month. Tony was divorced, and evidently starved of female company. Tony and I bonded. Talk turned to kink.

 

“So, Tony. Have you ever been spanked?”

 

“Never! But I’d try it. I’d try anything!”

 

I suspect if I’d suggested penetrating Tony with an acid-coated alligator he’d have been game, so long as I kept talking.

 

“Well, come to my room, and I’ll give you a trial thrashing”. I said, rendered giddy by boredom and plonk.

 

Tony did. I told him to get across my lap, and bless him, he lay face up, staring at the ceiling, until I coaxed him bum upwards. I gave him the gentlest of spankings, and tweaked his nipples.

 

“How long since a woman touched your nipples, Tony?”

 

He pondered. “I don’t think any woman ever has, honestly.”

 

Tony was married twenty years. I wanted to weep. We hugged, and talked some more, and then he ran away, telling me this was the best night he’d ever had, ever ever ever. I packed my gear, and saluted my charming new receptionist buddy, before heading home.

 

Michael was sitting in a budget hotel bar three miles down the road, and sent my fee alongside profound apologies, so no harm done.

 

And Tony? I reckon he’s still smiling.