Not Very Professional

Roland stepped into the cockpit, ignoring the noise of surprise from the young woman in what was usually his chair. He cast a somewhat curious look at the seat across from her, where his copilot sat staring up at him. “Justin,” Roland said plainly by way of greeting.

“Sir,” Justin said politely, nodding back, and then at Roland’s raised eyebrows and pointed look, he added awkwardly, “This is Rita.”

Roland offered his hand to the woman and she shook it as he said pleasantly, “I’m sorry to have startled you. Justin wasn’t expecting me, because I’m not scheduled to be here today. And I wasn’t expecting you, because we typically don’t allow civilians in here.”

Rita smiled. “Justin was just showing me around. I’ve got a flight coming up. Soon, as a matter of fact,” she said, glancing at her watch. She looked back at Justin and grinned, oblivious to his sudden discomfort. “Thanks so much for showing me everything.”

Roland backed up as Rita stood, crouching to exit the cockpit before turning back one more time. “Safe travels! See you Saturday!”

“You, too, see you then,” Justin said, leaning to make eye contact and forcing himself to smile.

“Nice to meet you,” she said to Roland as she exited, and he nodded at her politely.

Then he turned his gaze back to Justin, who maintained it for only a moment before slouching down in his chair and throwing his head back against the rest. Roland slipped through the entrance and into his seat. “Sit up,” he said sharply. The pleasant tone he’d used with Rita was gone.

Justin sat up, a frown planted firmly on his face as he looked up at Roland, then back down at his hands. He wondered briefly if the captain had changed his schedule on purpose or if it was just coincidence that he was there today. He didn’t have long to contemplate it and supposed it didn’t matter anyway now.

“Haven’t we talked about using my airplane to impress your dates before, Justin?”

~   ~   ~

The walk to the crew lounge three flights later was both impossibly long and entirely too short, in Justin’s estimation. He’d followed the captain the entire way, and now watched as Roland briefly scouted the empty room. His eyes locked on an armless chair, and in seconds he was seated and gesturing for his errant co-pilot to move forward. Justin groaned, more from embarrassment than anything else. He could convince himself that the spanking itself was no big deal, though even now he knew he would feel differently by the end of his time over Roland’s knee.

He began to undo his belt and pants as he closed the gap between them, shoving them both down before lowering himself across the waiting lap. Often the captain took a moment to adjust the unlucky recipient of his attention, but today there was barely a pause before his hand descended with a loud crack that was hardly muffled by the black boxer briefs Justin wore, followed by a grunt from the co-pilot. He pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, counter-rhythm to the spanking that was just getting started. He squeezed his eyes shut, but his mind supplied vivid images of red handprints glowing in the dark, as if he had looked directly into the sun, endless impressions of the very real and very painful swats being applied to his backside.

“We are professionals, Justin,” Roland said over the steady fall of his hand. “I expect us to act as such. The aircraft is to be respected. And my rules are to be respected.”

Justin remained still even as the captain paused to lower his underwear before resuming both the spanking and the lecture, though he curled his hands into fists so tight that his nails dug into his palms. Roland’s hand was large and his arm was strong and every impact reinforced his message.

“You worked hard to get your pilot’s license, worked hard to get this job. You have clearances and privileges, and those come with responsibilities. When you bring civilians onto the aircraft during work hours, without going through the proper channels, you are not meeting your responsibilities.”

More grunts escaped, and Justin pushed his toes hard into the low-pile airport carpet as he continued to absorb the spanking. Roland had read him the riot act several months ago when he’d heard about a similar incident, and Justin’s ears had burned every time he thought about it for weeks. But time had passed, and honestly his job was just so cool, and it felt like a waste not to show off from time to time, so… so he was more careful about when he snuck someone into the cockpit for a quick tour, and he did it less often, and he thought maybe it was okay.

At least, he thought he wouldn’t get caught.

Roland’s hand shifted, concentrating his considerable strength on the lower curve of his co-pilot’s bottom, and Justin gritted his teeth against the pain. It was as if the captain had felt his attention drifting, but now he was again focussed entirely on the spanking he was receiving.

“As you are my responsibility, Justin, you can see how I take this very personally,” Roland continued, and for some reason that embarrassed the younger man more than anything else had so far. “Perhaps I should have put you over my knee the first time, but you were given the benefit of the doubt.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Justin said, breathing heavily with the effort to take his punishment.

Then there was silence as the last swat remained unfollowed, and then Roland said, “Stand up and put your hands on the seat of this chair.”

Justin stood without hesitation, barely resisting the urge to clutch his now-burning backside, though he did not understand the command. Roland stood as well, allowing Justin to do as he was told and place his hands on the vacated seat. It became clear after only a few seconds what was about to happen as he looked over his shoulder and watched the captain undo the buckle of the thick leather belt he wore as part of his uniform. The younger pilot gulped audibly, and for a brief second he thought he might be sick. He bottom throbbed and his fingers found the edge of the chair and gripped it tightly. He’d been spanked before, but never belted, and he was not looking forward to the new experience.

“I am surprised to find this necessary,” Roland said behind him, and Justin heard him folding the implement over in his hand, preparing to put it to use. “There will be no doubts about my expectations going forward, though.”

There was no more talking after that. The captain whipped the leather down, and Justin rocketed forward at the impact, head touching the back of the seat and heels leaving the ground. It was the only time he moved out of position, but every lick hurt as much as that first one. Roland was precise, as he was with everything he did, and Justin knew he would be feeling this spanking for several days every time he sat in the cockpit or anywhere else for that matter. Over and over the leather met his bare and already blistering skin, driving home the captain’s displeasure and the message that rule-breaking would not be tolerated, not on this crew.

He finished with several overlapping licks, again on the round lower curve of the younger man’s bottom, before he finally rested his arm. “Alright, straighten up,” he said as he, taking a step back and beginning to re-thread his belt. Justin reached for the hand of his pants and then stood, slowly, the motion itself sending fresh waves of pain through his body.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said again once he’d buttoned them and secured his own belt, turning as he spoke but not able to look his captain in the eye quite yet.

“I expect so,” Roland said, placing a comforting hand on Justin’s shoulder. “You took that well.”

“Thank you, sir,” the co-pilot responded, blushing again. It was a strange compliment, somehow making him feel childish all over again while still giving him genuine satisfaction.

Roland checked his watch, then gave the shoulder a squeeze before removing his hand and reaching for his captain’s jacket. “Time for us to be back. Check-in is soon.”

Justin nodded, and was grateful to follow the captain back out through the lobby. He took the moment to reach back, rubbing uselessly at his punished backside as he thought about how long the next flight was going to feel.

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