Sokos Hotel Spanking

I  was reading Times Travel last Sunday and they had a feature on Tallinn, a place I've visited a couple of times and, in particular, a hotel which used to be run by the KGB and where I've stayed. I've also been spanked there and wrote about it but in case you didn't know me then I'm reprinting it, underneath the relevant section from Times Article.

"You’ll have booked the 2.30pm guided tour, in English, of the fascinating KGB museum at the Original Sokos Viru, the only hotel where foreign visitors were allowed to stay during the 1970s. Head up to the 23rd floor to see what the Russians left behind on their departure in 1991. The radio equipment and rudimentary listening devices hint at the sinister hold they had over the staff and guests — including Elizabeth Taylor and Neil Armstrong — whose every move was monitored and recorded (£7; viru.ee)."

Sokos Hotel spanking....

The account is totally true, it was a business trip we had to make to Tallinn which is on the Baltic sea, used to be a Russian dependency but now part of the EU, and I got spanked in an ex KGB hotel, the Sokos Viru, which is about ten mins from the town centre. I've italicised the spanking part for anyone who wants to skip the travelogue.

Tallinn is the capital of Estonia, just across the Baltic from Finland where our partner Stefan lives; we had business to attend there and Stefan joined us because he made the introductions and speaks the language even though English is widely used.

It is an unbelievably pretty city like something out of a fairy tale book, very confident now they've shaken off Russian control, very proud of their technology and improving infrastructure. It’s vibrant it seems to be full of young people or I’m getting old. Finnish people go there a lot by ferry because it's much cheaper to buy goods, booze, tobacco, to take them back to Finland. Some also go there for sex breaks, there are lots of attractive call girls operating, many of them from Russia, very good rates apparently.

We flew from Stansted, Stefan took the ferry from Helsinki and we met him at the ferry port, travelled back to the Sokos Viru hotel by taxi. He told us a little story about the Sokos hotel (first time staying for us), during the cold war it had been used by the KGB for eavesdropping and spying on businessmen and minor Government officials, apparently the rooms had been wired for such and guests of course were unaware of the surveillance. It was before the current owners Sokos took over.

We were there to source staff for the UK food industry and Stefan’s contact Marietja, a tall striking somewhere-in-her-forties blonde, immaculately dressed, met us in the lounge bar early that evening to introduce herself to us and run through some lists of applicants informally. We were to carry out interviews over the next two days mingled with down time for shopping and socialising, we knew a few people from past trips.

As we talked the bar was filling up with people, tourists, businessman, locals and some particularly attractive girls who stood out for their aristocratic good looks, haughty demeanour and most particularly their dress. There were three of them, all could easily have been models, they were dressed in tight fitting calf length pants, which looked like they’d come out of a spray can and backless cotton tops with no bras (wish I'd taken a pic of them)They were gorgeous and knew it and they had every male head in the place turning. They sat at the bar on high stools sipping mineral waters and smoking their Malboro cigs, their perfect globe backsides jutting cheekily over the edge of the stools, their complete self confidence and nonchalant disregard for their admirers, which meant the entire male clientele and probably a few females too, only adding to their allure.

I saw Stefan nudge P, I couldn’t blame him, P had his back to them but soon realised there was an attraction worth adjusting his seat for. I looked at Marietje, if I’d known the Estonian for ‘boys will be boys’ I would have said it but I think she understood perfectly. Our business was pretty much done and she excused herself, we were to have dinner the day after tomorrow which I looked forward to, I liked her and her English wasn’t as bad as Stefan had said.

So that left me and my two chivalrous male voyeurs. Stefan went up to the bar for drinks and I suppose to get a better look at the ‘call girls’ which I’d decided must surely be their profession, albeit high class ones. I told P his neck would get stuck in that position if he kept looking their way so he twisted his chair further towards them! Very funny. 'So when do we go to the bar where all the nice Estonian men hang out?' I asked without getting an answer. And what had he thought of Marietje, nice wasn’t she? Oh yes very nice woman, he said keeping his eye on the talent. I nudged him but he said, Ah Stefan’s just getting served I’ll go give him a hand. Well well so it takes two grown men to fetch three drinks back from the bar. I wasn’t going to have this for the rest of the evening, in retrospect I doubt it would have happened anyway but I was pissed off at the time.

When the 'boys' returned with the drinks I asked Stefan if he knew any stores locally where they sold spray can pants, maybe I'd go buy some tomorrow, maybe I'd get more attention then, smiling sweetly. Stefan looked embarrassed, P ignored the remark. Both interspersed conversation with poorly concealed glances at the girls. The girls' act was almost mesmerising and they weren't even trying, each time one shuffled, reached for a sip of water, stretched for her handbag for a cigarette, their bum cheeks, thighs and back muscles tightened and relaxed in perfect harmony, you could have set it to music. When one of them climbed off her stool to go to the loo all eyes focused on the obscenely perfect little frontal peach clearly contoured by the tight pants, and all eyes followed the equally perfect but larger rear peach as the glutes in each side undulated effortlessly towards the lobby, pert tits and jutting nipples leading the way.

It had gone on long enough. So I spilled a drink into my lap, 'Oh dear I said, I'll have to pop up and change, maybe I'll take a look through my case see if I've got any really tight pants with me, perhaps I'll get some male attention that way, present company or otherwise.' Smiling daggers. Stefan looked uncomfortable, P showed a trace of anger. I went up to the 4th, into our room, we only had the one key card, I'd decided to take my time, wouldn't let P in if he came up, sod him. Ten minutes later the door knocked, I ignored it, P's voice then telling me it was him, asking me to open up, I ignored. Then my mobile rang, it was P, I put it on answer. Five minutes later the door opened, it was P and he didn't look pleased, he'd been down to reception and got an extra key card. I was sitting in one of the armchairs by the window, sponged skirt off and draped over a radiator, I don't know if I looked petulant, defiant, angry or all three but I'm sure whatever it was changed as P strode purposefully towards me and my stomach went molten. There was no doubting the look on his face it was anger.

He didn't say anything until he'd grabbed me forcefully by the arm, which bruised later, lifted me out of the seat and draped me over the back of it. 'I don't know what the fuck you think you're playing at,' he said, 'but it stops here', and he started to spank me he was so angry I don't think he'd even considered at first I'd still got my tights and pants on and my blouse tail was half over my ass, the spanks still hurt. I told him I wasn't happy with him and Stefan ogling the Russian sluts bums and all in the bar, ignoring me, it was rude and ignorant and I wouldn't stand for it. 'Well now I'm ogling your bum and I'm definitely not ignoring you and we'll see about what you'll stand for.' His left hand grabbed my shirt tail and pulled it half up my back, then steadied me in position over the chair, his right grabbed my tights and panties in one go and ripped them down to my thighs, my bared bottom clenched instinctively, I stupidly wondered if anyone could see us through the window until my attention was drawn sharply back to my situation by the resumption of god knows how many bared flesh slaps. He wasn't saying much, I could hear him breathing heavily he was spanking me so hard, I got to the point where I was apologising even though I believed I was right, he told me he knew there was something in what I said but he didn't stop spanking, he told me he wouldn't have childish behaviour, tantrums..da da da...it wasn't the right way to express myself, especially in company and he wasn't standing for it, then he went on to the Russian girls and told me not to be so silly his blood was as red as any other male and if the day ever came when he couldn't appreciate such temptations then I'd have something to worry about. I thought I already had something to worry about, my backside was roasting and I was starting to snivel I'd been over the chair too long and the spanking hurt.

I was apologising now, without qualifying, I was sorry sorry sorry.....and then suddenly I wasn't sorry as I felt his groin lean into my tortured bum and he was hard. I heard his zipper undo, his trousers dropped and his muscled thighs against me, I wanted to get up adjust my position but I wasn't allowed to, I wasn't wet because everything had happened so fast and my hurt feelings had been real, but excitement was coursing through me now like an express train and as soon as he shoved the head of his cock against my labia and forced them apart I'm sure I gushed a tidal greeting which left no doubt about my willingness to make up. He rammed into me with almost brutal force, right into my core and I loved it and gasped something incoherent as he withdrew and I pushed my bum back with him not wanting to let go, then again he lunged hard filling me with pleasure. Whether his cock was harder than usual or whether it was just so fast I hadn't opened up I don't know or care, all I know is it sent me over the edge in no time and I screamed out in orgasmic bliss as he filled me with great urgent spurts. As I lay heaving over the chair, I thought about the story Stefan had told us and smiled as I pictured a little KGB man sitting somewhere in the basement with his headset on twiddling with his switches and dials. He would certainly have had an earful from me, quite an eyeful too.

'Right, ten minutes and I want you downstairs in the bar, and no more nonsense,' said P. 'We'll go and grab a bite to eat somewhere, Stefan said he knows a place where lots of gay guys go and the waiters all wear tight trousers and those short waistcoats, you'll have plenty of bums to look at even though I think you might be somewhat preoccupied with your own for an hour or two.' 

And I was. We didn't get to the gays bar, we instead ate at a bistro near the hotel, they served french fries with everything and Stefan likes fries, he was also starving and he's a big bloke. When we returned to the hotel late in the evening we had a nightcap in the hotel bar, the girls had gone, no bums to ogle, just mine still smouldering a bit.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie

xx