He kissed me and said, "There was a bit of teasing but you will return the paddle as I said. As for another spanking with it, No I wasn't serious and if you want to try out the exercise room it will have to be on your suggestion. I won't ask it of you. Let me see the paddle." I was happy to get rid of it but after he slapped it against his palm and gave me a funny look I wasn't so sure it had been a good idea to lose control of it so soon. He raised one eyebrow as a question and I knew what he meant. The old elevator wasn't real fast and we still had a few floors to go so I pulled my dress up in back, bent over slightly and jumped as the paddle and I were introduced. I stayed in position for the next stroke which didn't come and felt enormous relief when he held it in front of me and I took it back. Wouldn't you know it. There was a sweet old couple waiting for the elevator on our floor. As soon as they saw what I was carrying the woman said, "Oh look Henry. She has a spanking paddle. Is it for you or him Dear?" Politeness demanded an answer and I said, "I'm not sure what you mean but it's for him to use on me." This matron of British Aristocracy chided me, "Don't look so embarrassed Dear. There's nothing wrong with getting a good paddling and there's no reason for you to be ashamed of having a nice man like him give you what you need. Make sure he takes your knickers off. It's much better on the bare. Believe me I know. It's been many years but Henry used to paddle me quite regularly and quite well as I remember. Where is that old thing now Henry? Oh my, we've missed the lift. Push the button again you old fool." We left them arguing about the potential locations of the family paddle and as soon as we got into our room Brett kissed me and said, "You were wonderful. Give me the paddle while you go to that corner. Wait, you keep it and hold it behind your back and would you mind holding your skirt up too? You can let it down while the bellhop is here." I gave him a little kiss and said, "I intended to do that and I think it would be better if I took off my panty hose first." He smiled and concurred and as I peeled them off and sat down to complete the process another thought which had been running through my mind was laid out in front of him. "You said humiliation is part of my punishment and I agree. Everybody in this hotel already knows I'm going to get a spanking so how much worse can it be to let him see me in my panties. Order me to keep the dress up while he is here." We both wanted to kiss each other again but it was time to continue my punishment without interruptions. Our lips would not meet again for many hours. All of my degrees and attributes of being a mature woman were left behind when I arrived at the corner. My transformation into a scared girl starting her payment for some unnamed crime was completed. Now my hardest chore was to convince my knees that it was OK to keep me upright for a little while longer as I pulled my dress up well clear of my bottom and held it there with the paddle straight up and patiently waiting for its chance to visit my rear end again. My heart stopped when we heard the knock on the door and as Brett answered it I let my dress fall and hid the paddle in front of me. The bellhop saw me and said, "Ay, now there's a contrite little girl standing in the corner and waiting for a spanking.." When Brett looked at me he snapped, "Get that dress up and show the man what you're going to be spanked with." I had asked for this and hearing the way he sternly commanded me made it perfect. I felt my cheeks flush as our visitor made further comments. "Oh, it's to be a paddling then. That's a fine paddle and doesn't she look nice in her knickers. If you'll excuse me Sir, I said she had a nice bum last time I brought the chair and this is a much better view of it. Mind me, it'll take the paddle well and she'll learn a lesson or two from it. Have a pleasant evenin Sir. And you too Miss." I started to breathe a sigh of relief but he hadn't left yet and Brett was taking my idea of humiliation seriously as he told me to turn around and thank him for going through the trouble of bringing the chair so I could be paddled properly. I didn't move my hands but luckily the front of the dress was still hanging low enough to keep me slightly decent as I faced the door. I kept looking at the floor but no hole opened up to swallow me as my faltering voice repeated the exact same words Brett told me to say. Mr. "Aren't we cheerful to see a young woman get spanked and/or paddled" replied, "No trouble at all Miss. Happy to be of service. You're a fine looking woman and he's a lucky man to `ave ya. I'll be going now so you can get along with the paddling. Ta-ta." I never appreciated the sound of a door closing so much as I did then. I looked up at Brett sitting in the chair with the small end table next to him. He saw my confusion and explained, "That's to hold the paddle during your warm-up. We'll start with a hand spanking over your panties. Your bottom should be fairly red when I take them down and the paddle will take over from there. Come here." The room was getting larger and larger and smaller and smaller as I crossed the carpet. He took the paddle from me and pulled up the front of my dress as I went over his knees. Once I was comfortably(?) in a position to appreciate the design on the carpet he readjusted the rear hem of my dress up to my neck. He rubbed the target area as he always did and just before his hand came crashing down on me he said, "The special word I gave you the other night to tell me to stop is still good. Other than that I will not be moved by your cries or protestations. Are you ready?" Why does he keep asking me that? I'm on his lap with my rear end in the perfect position for a royal spanking. Of course I'm ready. No, I'm not. Well, maybe. This is scary. Maybe I should call the whole thing off. No I won't. Yes I will. Maybe I should. Damn it. Just do it. "Yes, spank me." Did he ever. First of all I felt more exposed and vulnerable that I ever had. In my reading about this subject a common theme is stripping as part of the punishment. Spankings in the nude are supposed to be worse. That may be true for some women but not for me. I had been naked every other time he spanked me and I was growing to like them immensely but being over his lap fully clothed was totally humiliating. Up until lunch I was dressed and acted like a mature and self-assured woman. Now those clothes were a mockery of my perception of myself. Then there was the fact that this spanking wasn't going to lead to sex. It was a thing unto itself and although part of my brain could recognize the swats as not being terribly harder than some I received before, they seemed to sting much worse knowing it was not foreplay in any sense of the word. I'm not a small woman and his spanks had lots of area to choose as landing sites. And he made sure he didn't neglect any of them. Looking back on it I wonder if I would've been better of if I was one of those tiny bottomed women. Then I wouldn't have had so much skin suffering from his hand but then again, he probably would've spanked me just as long and the pain would be more concentrated. At the time it really didn't make much difference. Regardless of the size of my rear end, it was not near as happy to feel his hand landing on it as on the previous occasions. There was none of that wonderful transfer of heat to other areas this time. When he started to pull my panties down I lifted myself to facilitate the action but there was no enthusiasm on my part. It was blind obedience and I was helpless to prevent the next segment of the spanking. I can hear you now, why didn't I say the special word? I'm not sure I can explain but I needed to take the whole punishment. It may've started out as a game of sorts since there was no specific misbehavior that earned me the spanking. Nor was Brett the kind of man who would take out his anger in this manner and feel he had the authority to discipline me for anything. At least I didn't think so and if I had the slightest inkling that he was that sort of man I would be on the next plane home. Nevertheless, I was using this moment in time to pay for all my sins. Every deviation from absolute honesty or sharp word to or about someone or cutting someone down was going to be cleared from my conscience. Pretty noble thoughts don't you think? Yeah, be real proud of me but I would put up the amount of noise I made against the bellhop's missus any day. Every time that paddle landed I screeched and cried and when I could form real words I was saying things like, "I'm sorry. I'll never do it again" and what was my favorite for a while, "Please, no more. I've learned my lesson." As Brett promised, apologies and pleas did not get me any less. I probably said a lot of other things but I think what I didn't say was just as important. One was the safe-word and the other thing is that I never said anything against him. I was growing to hate the spanking and inwardly cursing my determination to see it through but I didn't feel any unkind thoughts about the man at the other end of the paddle. Hours later, or so it seemed, I lost all fight and lay limply for the next ear shattering and agonizing slap of the finely polished wood against my pain-racked posterior. It wasn't long after that when he put the paddle down but it took me a few minutes to realize the spanking was over. There were no comforting caresses as he helped me to my feet. My panties were around my ankles and he assisted me to hobble to my corner where I stood sobbing and displaying the results of his handiwork until our dinner arrived. I was readying myself for the final humiliation of hearing the bellhop's comments about how well-paddled I was or some other cute remark about my rear end but Brett told me to let go of the dress. "I'm the only one who needs to see your bare bottom and the panties should tell enough of the story." I can't believe the bellhop didn't have anything to say but Brett told me later he shushed him when he saw him open his mouth and glared to indicate that any comments about corporal punishment would not be appreciated. After signing for the meal my roommate said he would not be needing the chair and the paddle again and they were removed. At the closing of the door Brett said, "Kick off the panties, come here and eat." He held the chair out for me like the typical gentleman who had just spanked you past the point of tears and as I sat down he lifted my dress so it was bare skin against polished wood again but at least I could control the speed of impact. Unlike it's small cousin, the temperature differential was the immediate discomfort and then its unyielding pressure kept we well aware that I had been paddled not that I need any reminders thank you. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I started eating. There was absolutely no conversation during the meal and it wasn't till I cleaned off my plates that I realized Brett had barely touched his. He jumped up, knelt by my side and there were tears in his eyes as he said, "I'll never spank you like that again. Will you ever forgive me." Hey! What's wrong with this picture. I'm the one who just got the spanking to end all spankings and should be the one who needs comforting, right? Actually, there was nothing wrong with that picture at all. I held his head in my lap and cried along with him until he got up and carried me to his, No, our bed. I lay on my stomach while he got the complimentary bottle of soothing lotion from the bathroom. (These British think of everything.) As he applied it to my battered skin we had a long talk about what had just happened. He thought it might be fun to try it but realized he was wrong shortly after we started. When I didn't say the safe-word he thought I wanted him to continue so he forced himself to follow through on his promise to make it a severe spanking. He always thought the phrase, "This is going to hurt me more than it does you" was a joke but now he knew it to be true. I tried to explain why I didn't stop it either and we finished our discussion by agreeing that we were not sorry we had done it but it was not something we would ever repeat. His putting the lotion on me accomplished what the spanking didn't and he let me be on top as we consummated our non- paddle proliferation pact without taking our clothes off. We wanted to make sure our agreement would last so we discussed it without words until his pen was ready to sign on the dotted line again. The night was still young and he offered to take me out to a show but I didn't care much for the idea of sitting in a theater so we opted for a nice long walk. Somewhere during our negotiations we lost all our clothes and got rather sweaty so a shower was in order. I told him I would meet him in the sitting room and headed to my room but he pointed out that his shower was big enough for two and we should do our part to save water. Being a strong advocate for conservation I spent the next half- hour under a warm spray while we cleaned each other and certain parts seemed to need a lot of soap and rubbing to make sure they were really clean. Lord bless this man, he was like a teenage boy with fantastic recuperative powers and the water splashed off us as I leaned against the wall and he lifted me off my feet with his hand and his. whatever and what a fine whatever he has. Eventually we got dressed and on our way down in the lift I pushed the button for the Fifth floor. He looked confused by didn't ask any questions. We got off and I led him to the exercise room. There was nobody inside and I had to shudder as I saw the armoire that was the elegant home of untold tools of punishment. The vaulting horse was very out of place among the other exercise equipment but its presence dominated the room. I turned to Brett and said, "Kiss me." It was a deep and wonderful kiss and then I said, "Again" Four more times I made my petition and it was granted. By then my toes were curling and I wanted to take him back to our room but even he has his limitations. I was going to give him time to rest but he wasn't going to sleep for an hour or two after we got into bed again. But back to the present. I explained that I had just satisfied the requirement of getting six of the best in the exercise room. Oops, make that seven and we managed to get out of the hotel without seeing anybody who wanted to chat about my spankings. It was a beautiful night and walking hand in hand with him was a dream come true. In the back of my mind was the continuing doubt about what would happen to us when we got back to the states and the dream ended but I shoved it back into its hiding place and enjoyed myself while I could. The cool night air did us both good and I didn't have to work very hard to get him very hard and I slept (much later) with a contented smile on my face. The next day was the last session of the conference and he was the keynote speaker at the final banquet. Giving speeches is something I know a little about so we spent the afternoon in our room going over it. He accepted my suggestions graciously and I had turned him into a credible orator by the time we left for the dinner. My bottom was still sore from the beating the night before so I was still squirming a little but that wasn't the reason I joined everybody else in giving him a standing ovation. He did everything just as I coached him and it was a wonderful speech. This time we stayed after the meal for quite a few more hours chatting with colleagues and new friends and dancing. Did I say I liked dancing? Especially with him and although the evening didn't end in sex, it ended in our bed with two happy people snuggled together. Our flight home didn't take off until early afternoon so we spent the morning shopping for souvenirs for our friends back home. He herded me into the antique jewelry store and wanted to buy me a beautiful opal ring but I wouldn't accept it unless he let me buy him some absolutely gorgeous cuff-links. We left the store with our treasures but my greatest treasure was the guy holding my hand. At least for the next few hours. The First Class seats didn't seem as nice now that my marvelous vacation was ending and he seemed lost in thought also. He dropped me off at my house and gave me a kiss at my door. The kind of kiss he used to give me when we went out on our "dates" before the trip. I smiled as I thanked him for taking me along and it wasn't until I closed the door and was alone that I lost control. I thought my worst fear was that he wouldn't want to have anything to do with me now that he had his fun. I was wrong. That kiss told me he just wanted us to go back to the way we were and that was impossible. I could never face him again. If he didn't have the guts to break up with me I'd do it first. Look at me, thinking I'm going to break it off with him as if we had been a real couple and not just a vacation fling. Pretty stupid huh? That trip may have been free in terms of money but it had cost me my best friend. I left my bags in the hall and ran to my room where I threw myself on the bed and cried and cried. Damn that man. After sharing my opinion of him with the walls I stood up and took a deep breath. At least I had wonderful memories and that should be enough, shouldn't it? No damn it, it wasn't and I started crying again. It took a few hours until I had gotten most of my emotions out of my system and unpacked my suitcases. I hung my new dress in the back of the closet and put the ring and brooch in my jewelry chest. I might take them out again someday but not in the foreseeable future. They meant too much to me on the trip and I couldn't look at them without breaking into fresh tears. I ended up sleeping on the couch. Lying in bed alone was too much to endure. I must have looked a real mess when the doorbell rang early the next morning. I threw on my old robe and opened the door. Brett walked in with a bag of groceries and confirmed my opinion of my appearance. "You're a mess woman but I've got just the thing to cheer you up. If there's one thing the British can't do it's a proper breakfast. Have no fear, I am here and I'm going to cook you a real Welcome Home to America breakfast." He zipped past me and I followed him into my kitchen where he was already busy making himself right at home. As I stumped in after him he asked where I kept my frying pan. Resisting the temptation of showing him not only where I kept it but what it felt like being planted in his head I said, "Brett, what the hell do you want?" He looked at his feet and forgetting everything I taught him about speaking his words tumbled out a mile a minute. "I was going to ask you in England but I was afraid you would say no and it would ruin the trip for you and then I was going to wait until later in the week to see how you felt about me now that we're back home but I can't wait and so I wonder if you will go out to dinner with me tonight so I can do this properly but I need your opinion because I want it to be something you like so after breakfast will you go to the jewelry store with me and pick out a suitable diamond I'm afraid I might pick out something too big and you would think that was ostentatious or something too small in trying to go the other way and I want it to be perfect for you because you are so perfect for me and but then I thought that since my mother's engagement ring was her birthstone maybe it doesn't have to be a diamond and that's what I was thinking about when I gave you the opal ring but I got too scared to say what was in my heart as you put it on and if you don't say something I'm going to run out of breath and collapse right here on your floor and." I saved him from himself by saying, "Brett, shut up and come with me." He was like a little puppy trailing behind me and I was thinking, "Come on knees, it's not that far and you know how to bend and straighten. Stay with me just a little longer. Please." I took the ring from its hiding place and handed it to him. OK knees, you don't have to do anything except keep me vertical. Geez, voice, don't fail me now. Take it nice and slow. "Any woman would be proud to wear this as an engagement ring. Here, take it." Oh, that's a good idea, lean against the dresser for something stable to hold on to. Damn it Brett, don't just stand there looking foolish. Say something! OK, I will. "Brett, what do you want?" He looked me in the eye and swallowed a few times before saying, "I want to marry you. Will you marry me?" I held out my hand for the ring. The left one this time and I didn't want him to think I was too eager so I waited until he slipped it past the second knuckle before shouting, "YES!!! YES!!! YES!!!". My first breakfast back in the states was delicious although it was more than two hours until we even started preparing it. Uh, we had other things to discuss like how to tell our folks, don't worry that was an old nightshirt and I can sew it up later, choosing the best man and the bridesmaid, can't you slam that thing into me a tad harder, yes that's the way, picking a date, I love it when you do that, should we make it a church wedding, wait a second while I change positions, OH I like that, what color dresses should the bridesmaids wear, you are so big/tight/soft/hard, don't even think of wearing a powder blue tuxedo with a velvet collar, I can't believe you're ready to do it again so soon, should I wear panties under my wedding dress, do that to me one more time and other important items relating to the marriage of two best friends. Oh, and one last thing. 1) This was going to make it much easier for me to do his shopping and laundry. 2) The paddling I referred to as "The spanking to end ALL spankings" wasn't. 3) Counting is still not my strong suit. Life is very good.