A while back my girlfriend (and owner) and I were on a flight together. She had a work thing and brought me along as her “purse boy,” which is exactly what it sounds like. I attend the event, I carry the purse, I stand where she tells me, and I try not to embarrass her. Simple life, honestly.

On the plane though, she had plans.

Seating was perfect. Business woman on the aisle, me stuck in the middle, my Domme by the window. She had me wearing loose shorts, no underwear (so sorry to disappoint on my casual dressware on the flight) and for once no cage. I’ve gone through TSA locked before, but apparently, today she wanted options.

As soon as we sat down, she leaned in and whispered, very sweetly, “If I touch you and you’re hard, you’re going to be in trouble.”

Reader, I was already in trouble.

A little while later she leaned over again, reminded me about the last time we’d been together, and then casually rested her hand on my thigh. I tried to be calm. I tried to think about spreadsheets. I failed.

She brushed my lap, felt the situation, and whispered, “Oh. You are so fucked.”

Then she went back to reading her magazine like nothing happened.

This went on for most of the flight. Little comments. Little touches. Long pauses where I was sweating and praying the business woman didn’t look over. At one point, she whispered that she was considering inviting Autumn over later to help with my punishment, just to really seal my fate.

By the time her hand slid higher, I was done for. I wasn’t subtle. I wasn’t composed. I was a walking HR violation with a boarding pass.

Punishment came later, obviously. My ass was red, my pride was wrecked, and she very enthusiastically tested out a new paddle she had picked up. She used every bit of me the way she wanted, and made sure I remembered that I brought this entirely on myself.

The upside? She let me sleep in the next morning and ordered me room service while she went off to be professional and terrifying at her meeting.

Honestly? Worth it.