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Sunday, 18 March 2012

Sunday spanklet - Airport check-in

Spanklet  (n.) - definition - a very short story where an individual is spanked or caned.

The airport queue was long and by the time he arrived in front of the check-in desk he was hot, sweaty and bad tempered. When the girl told him his bag was overweight and he would have to pay extra, he erupted in anger and frustration.

“They didn’t fucking charge me in London when I came out here,” he said in a loud voice.

“Well the case is overweight, sir. Please go to the ticket desk over there and pay for 3 kilos extra.” The girl smiled sweetly. “There is no need to rejoin the queue. Just come back here with the voucher.”

“I bloody well will not! I am fed up with this country and the money grabbing people. Just check my bag in and give me my boarding pass.”

“I am sorry sir. I can’t do that. Please go and pay the extra amount.”

As he stood there glaring at her trying in vain to impose his will, a tall woman in the dark blue airline uniform came up behind the check-in girl.

“Is there a problem here?” she enquired.

“Yes there is a fucking problem. I travel extensively with this airline and I have never had to pay extra for my baggage. This girl does not seem to understand English.”

“We all speak very good English here, sir” said the older woman fixing him with steely eyes. “Please come this way, sir, and we will sort this out this problem.”

“About fucking time,” he growled, picking up his bags and following her around the end of the check -n desks. She led him down a corridor under the rattling ceiling fans. He was so busy admiring the shapely legs beneath her tight uniform skirt that he failed to notice the gesture she made to a woman police officer standing at the end of the corridor.

Stopping at what seemed to be some sort of office, the customer service manager held open the door and waved him in. As the door closed behind him he did not see the police officer slip quietly into the room but he did hear the obvious sound of a lock being turned.

The room was large but sparely furnished with a desk and some chairs. The overhead fan hummed and turned slowly, not doing much to reduce the heat in the concrete block walled structure. Aside from the desk the only other item of furniture was a strangely shaped wooden stool in the corner. The police woman took up a position leaning against one wall.

“Put your bag down, sir.”

He did as he was told. The airline manager seemed to have lost her smile and she spoke with some authority in her voice.

“Now listen to me young man, the days of empire are well and truly over. You can no longer go around demanding things in this country and you certainly cannot use foul language in front of my staff. Do you understand?”

Taken by surprise by her attack, he mumbled “Yes”. He was being to panic a little bit.  

“It’s Ma’am to you!”

He stared at her, nearly ready to adopt an arrogant attitude but changed his mind. Now was not a good time to argue he decided.

“Yes ma’am.”

“You need to learn some manners, but I am feeling generous so I will offer you a choice in how you learn that lesson. You can either stay in this room for two days, miss your flight and pay for a new ticket or,” she paused, “or my colleague here will deal with you in a traditional manner of my country.”

 He turned to glance at the slim athletic looking woman in the smart green uniform. She gave him a look that made his blood run cold.

As if on cue, the police officer moved to a cupboard on the wall and opened it to show an array of half a dozen canes neatly arranged on horizontal hooks.

“Well, I’m waiting for an answer.” The manager spoke sharply

“I can’t stay here,” he complained. “I’m due back at work tomorrow and I don’t have enough money to buy another ticket.”

“In that case we will deal with the matter quickly and you may still catch this flight.”

The woman nodded at the police officer and he heard the rattle of a cane being lifted from its fixing.”

“Go over to that bench and lower your trousers.”

In a daze he did as he had been instructed. The police woman stood menacingly to one side of the bench, holding the cane in both hands, as he slowly unbuckled his belt and let the trousers fall to the floor.

“Now bend over.” came a second command.

Slowly he lowered himself over the leather topped stool. His torso was at an angle and his head was now below his waist. In a quick movement the airline employee knelt to fasten each wrist to the legs of the frame and then, darting swiftly behind him, she yanked his shorts down  to his feet, before passing a belt across the back of his knees and buckling it tightly.

As he lay there, with  a trembling in the pit of his stomach, he watched the polished brown shoes of the police officer take up position to the left of his feet. He could just see the tip of the long cane quivering near her ankles

“Give him twelve hard strokes officer. That should be sufficient.”

He moaned softly in anticipation of the biting strokes on his bare bottom and cursed himself for his stupid behaviour. Always do what the airport staff tell you, his wife had cautioned him. They can make your life a misery if you get on the wrong side of them. He wondered how he would hide the marks from her when he got home and then forgot all about home, the plane, his job, everything in fact except the white heat of that rattan cane as it landed for the first time across his naked flesh.

Half an hour later he was standing in front of the check-in girl holding the pre-paid voucher for the excess luggage. Behind her, stood the manager.

“Please may I have my boarding pass Miss,” he asked politely.

“Of course sir,” replied the smiling girl. “ I hope you have enjoyed your stay in our beautiful country and have learned a lot about our customs.”

“Yes, thank you Miss,” the smart executive replied as he bent down in some obvious pain, to retrieve his carry-on bag. “I have learned a lot from all of you.”