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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
LOVE CHILD
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Chapter Seventeen
Foolishly, IÕd let Danielle make the airline arrangements for me
while I was out shopping for clothes. When I was done I called her from
the store. She told me there was no need to return to the dungeon, unless I
wanted to. She said sheÕd paid for the ticket herself, there was no need
for me to return the extra money. (That alone should have clued me in.
She was a generous woman, but a shrewd businessperson also.) So I went
to the plane and blissfully boarded.
The first thing that caught my eye when I got on board was how
incredibly beautiful the stewardesses were. Of course, being beautiful
myself, I just fell in with them and thought nothing more of it. (Not, for
instance, like a man would have reacted, taking down the girlÕs names and
measurements in his mind and wondering how they looked undressed.)
Since I was in first class, it never entered my mind to go back and
look in coach class. There seemed to be mostly men with me in first
class, but that didnÕt clue me in either. After all, werenÕt a
disproportionate number of wealthy people in the world men? This was a
Monday, so wouldnÕt they all be out flying, going to their appointments?
Just before the flight took off, an elegant older woman sat down
beside me. I greeted her politely and went back to my crossword puzzle. I
was trying to remember the name of the man who drew Calvin and Hobbes,
in order to put it into my puzzle, when she asked me about it. I was
probably a little too enthusiastic explaining it. It was a cartoon-type
puzzle and IÕd watched plenty of cartoons when I was little, so it looked
like one I could fill out. So I talked away about all my favorite cartoons,
and we got onto other subjects from there.
It turned out I was on Dungeon Airlines, though it of course went by
the name Elizabeth Air. IÕd wondered about the name a little when I got
on, but since there are so many airlines these days coming into and going
out of business, I thought little more of it. As it happened, Danielle had
arranged for me to be on this airline so that I might get introduced to
Elizabeth herself. And she, of course, just happened to be sitting right
next to me.
After the flight had been in the air awhile a stew announced that the
ÒentertainmentÓ was now available. Everyone in first class got up and
went back. IÕd just gotten wind of what sort of plane I was on, and so of
course I stayed right where I was. And Elizabeth kept sitting right beside
me, conversing quietly with me.
I was, in point of fact, a prisoner. I was 35,000 feet in the air with
no parachute. And Elizabeth was no ordinary mortal. SheÕd been born in
the slums of Rio and worked and gambled and loved her way to the top. IÕm
sure she could have done whatever she wished with me. But instead she
just talked, asked questions, and paid a lot of attention to me. She
actually seemed interested in what I had to say (though she complimented
my beauty also.)
By the time the plane landed IÕd agreed to visit her estate. It was to
be just for the afternoon, but of course once I got there, having nowhere
else to stay, I accepted her invitation to spend the night. For the next
several days I lingered about the mansion, enjoying the view of the
Atlantic that stretched out before her clifftop villa. She had parties at
night, but I declined to attend. I needed to relax, gather my thoughts. Her
villa was located in Columbia, too, famous for its mobsters and drug
kingpins, and although some of the men who visited her looked gorgeous, I
dreaded what they might really be like when they let their hair down.
I had a bedroom of my own upstairs and I quickly made it a habit to
turn in early. Lying up there, watching the moon, IÕd sometimes hear
shrieks (of pleasure or pain I couldnÕt tell). And IÕd hear male laughter,
and the sound, distant, of cracking leather. Elizabeth started to call me
her Ònun,Ó after a few days, or her Òlittle virgin.Ó But otherwise she let
me be. I was grateful to her for that. WeÕd sit sometimes in her parlor in
the afternoon, sharing tea and crumpets and chit-chatting. And sometimes
weÕd talk about flying, and IÕd admit that IÕd always wanted to be a
stewardess.
ÒYou know, dear, youÕd be such a smash on Elizabeth Airlines!Ó she
would say sometimes. One day she went on about how the FAA had one of
their scheduled inspections of her planes in America. ÒOf course, when
they visit, we take out all the toys and things,Ó she laughed. ÒAll they see
is a sauna, wet bar, hot tubs. We tell them itÕs for the health of our
customers, and they dutifully write that down on their forms. Being
chartered, of course, we can (I suppose) be anything we want, but I always
err on the side of appearing conservative. Like you do, perhaps, hmmm?Ó
A week later I was a new stewardess on Elizabeth Air. Upon
boarding I met Tiffany. Introducing herself, she told me she was the Òlead
stewÓ on this flight, which meant she had overall responsibility for
ensuring the happiness of the customers. She had long blonde hair that
tumbled over her shoulders. It was flaxen, thin, light strands, that looked
like they could all be blown off her head by the slightest breeze. It was as
if God had made her that way so that her shimmering mane couldnÕt block
the view of her spectacular body. In fact, she seemed to have assisted the
Lord a little, for I noticed that her hair was cut just short enough to
prevent it from covering her nipples. Of course, I couldnÕt see her nipples
just then, she was wearing her flight uniform, but the thought struck me
all the same. ÒOur uniforms are a little racier than the last time you flew
with us,Ó Tiffany smiled. Except for the fact that sheÕd switched from a
blue cloth jacket to a black leather one, though, I didnÕt notice any
difference. Well, the new jacket did seem tighter, showing off her
proportions more thoroughly, but she had the same white blouse
underneath and black trousers. It seemed the same to me.
Tiffany introduced me to the other girls. They each greeted me
warmly. She showed me around up front but did not give me a tour of the
Òentertainment centerÓ in back. Then Tiffany escorted me to a little
bathroom in first class and gave me a flight uniform of my own. ÒDonÕt
take too long,Ó she advised. ÒThe passengers will be boarding soon and it
will be your job to hand them their drinks. Take everything off, including
your underwear. Just put on what IÕve given you. ThereÕs a clothes closet
in the bathroom where you can hang your things. We lock it at takeoff, so
you wonÕt have to worry about any of the passengers taking anything that
belongs to you.Ó
I was naked in the bathroom, just about to dress in my flight gear,
when I realized Tiff (as they called her, at least when no passengers were
there) hadnÕt given me any panties. I opened the bathroom door and stuck
my head out.
ÒTiff! Tiff!Ó I called, in a sort of meek little voice because I was,
after all, new and didnÕt yet feel at home with my companions, though of
course theyÕd all been terrifically nice to me. Suddenly, around the corner
came Tiffany, and I was nearly struck dumb! Her blouse was gone. Her
black flight jacket, which had hugged her so nicely, was zipped wide open.
Out stuck her glorious breasts. They jiggled with her every leggy step.
She was just applying a touch of rouge to one nipple, while licking some
newly applied lipstick on her upper lip.
ÒWhat is it, honey? ArenÕt you dressed yet?Ó
ÒI-You didnÕt give me any panties to wear,Ó I stammered.
ÒDarling, please,Ó she answered, rolling her eyes just a little.
ÒWhat do you think we are all here for? Get into your things and help me
get these drinks poured.Ó A girl came out behind her, holding a liquor
bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other. She was deftly filling
them while walking out of the flight kitchen to see what I needed.
I was taken aback somewhat by the thought that I wasnÕt pulling my
share of the load. Apologizing, I closed the bathroom door and quickly got
dressed. There were ankle-high black leather booties for my feet, and
black lace mitten gloves for my hands. And then there was the dress. I
snuggled into it (it was so tight there was really no other way to describe
it.) It zipped, curiously, from the top of my back downward. Since the
back was cut below the level of my shoulders I decided to zip it myself.
But when I got the zipper down to my ass, the bulging of my cheeks
prevented it from going any lower. The dress was simply not big enough to
accommodate the outswelling of my bottom. And I had a small derriere,
too, a teenÕs butt. Of course from the front you couldnÕt tell that I was
unzipped in back, but surely Tiff didnÕt intend for me to walk around the
plane with a bare ass!
I looked at myself in a full-length mirror. It wasnÕt wide, but it was
long enough so that you could see yourself from head to toe. The dress
was sleeveless. It left my shoulders bare. In front it held my bosoms in
tight, forcing them up until the nipples almost showed above the dressÕs
low-cut front. Down below the hem of the dress barely covered my pussy.
I tugged on it, and figured I could keep myself covered down there as long
as I didnÕt sit down. I tried once more to zip the dress closed over my
bottom, but it was futile. The zipper simply couldnÕt go any lower than
the small of my back. Biting my lower lip, I decided I couldnÕt back out,
despite the strange uniform. Elizabeth had been so nice to me, and the
other girls also. IÕd take one flight, just this once, to satisfy my
curiosity, I told myself. Before I could change my mind, I opened the
bathroom door and went out.
ÒVery good,Ó Tiffany said, admiring me as I stood before her. The
sexy flight jacket she wore, black leather like my dress, had been zipped
back up. Between the halves of her jacket you could see the inner spheres
of her breasts, hugging each other. The blouse sheÕd been wearing beneath
her jacket was still gone. Also gone were the sleek black trousers sheÕd
had on. Instead, there was only the jacket now, plus her booties and a new
pair of mittens, just like mine. And, I noticed, sheÕd buckled a small black
dog collar around her neck. In front it was adorned with a black bow-tie.
I looked about me. The other girls, just finishing their preparations,
were all dressed now like Tiffany. You could see the tops of their thighs
and their strikingly long legs, but (fortunately for them) each girlÕs jacket
did just manage to cover her private area. In back each girl was covered
too, though when I saw a girl bend over to get something her jacket inched
up just enough to reveal the lower part of her ass. She, however, wore
white panties, I saw. Ruefully I turned to Tiffany and she knew what I
was thinking. She told me that what I was wearing was to indicate that I
was a brand new stew.
ÒWe use a different sort of attire on the new girl each time,Ó she
explained. ÒSometimes we have her dress like sheÕs just an ordinary
passenger, and surprise the guests when it turns out sheÕs not. With you,
Elizabeth hopes to play a little game with them. The girls and I will take
care of the passengers after youÕve given them their drinks. YouÕre to
work up in the flight kitchen until I call you.Ó
ÒOkay,Ó I agreed. That was fine with me. The flight kitchen was
right behind the cockpit, and then came the passenger lounge, Òfirst
class.Ó The men would enter at the front of first class and then walk
back, find their seat, and sit down. With luck I could slip into the flight
kitchen without turning around.
When the passengers entered I was standing just inside the door. I
was holding a silver tray, with drinks on it. I smiled sweetly at each man
as he entered and offered him a drink. Mischievously I wondered what his
reaction would be if he knew how I looked in back. None of them
suspected, however. Two women came on board. They were each with a
man and looked hopelessly spoiled and elegant. Yet they smiled nicely at
me, and each took the the drink that I offered her.
As soon as all the passengers had been served I slipped into the
flight kitchen. I made a point of not turning around. But I couldnÕt help
peeking out. I found I could see Tiffany and almost all the passengers if I
stuck my head out of the kitchen and gazed into a mirror mounted in the
passenger cabin. It was one of two that Elizabeth had installed to keep a
better watch on the passengers. Of course the stewardesses told the
passengers that the mirrors were there for their enjoyment, and certainly
you could see more of the lovely female flesh wandering about the cabin if
you kept one eye cocked toward the mirrors. A girl might bend toward you
but moon the mirror, giving you a view into her decollete jacket while,
with your other eye, you inspected the soft contours of her bottom. By
sticking my head out just beyond the kitchen door, where a helpful
magazine rack still blocked it from passenger view, I was able to observe
everything that went on in the cabin.
I watched as Tiffany began the safety presentation. First she
pointed out the location of the emergency exists. Then she went on about
not smoking, and how the instructions of the pilot and the flight
attendants must be obeyed in the event of an emergency. What she said
next, though, shocked me:
ÒIn the event of smoke entering the aircraft, you may need to cover
your mouths,Ó Tiffany said. ÒWith that in mind we offer you our panties in
advance.Ó All eyes were upon her. Deftly she slipped her hands up
underneath the rim of her jacket and slid down her panties. She sleeked
them down her long thighs and plucked them off her gently raised high
heels. She held them aloft a moment, as if contemplating them, then
offered them to the nearest passenger. ÒSir, please see if these will work
for you,Ó she said. The man held them to his nose and delighted in their
feminine aroma, her aroma, and she smiled with just a touch of
deprecation at him. A goddess belittling her worshipful disciple. But he
minded not.
Simultaneously the other flight attendants were removing their
panties now, and each offered her underpants to a passenger. I watched as
a woman passenger sniffed a stewÕs panties, then nodded her approval at
the girl. I shivered at the subtle games of dominance and submission that
were being played out. Some girls seemed to be cast, willingly or
unwillingly, as victims or Òbottoms,Ó while others, like Tiffany, clearly
retained the reins of power even after she surrendered her panties.
When the Òpanty gameÓ had been played out, Tiffany continued with
her presentation. She held up an oxygen mask and cupped it over her nose
and mouth. Her eyes seemed to bulge slightly as she did it, I saw, as if
she were surprised, a captive princess suddenly gagged. Next she put on a
life vest. She pinched the little tube sticking out of the vest with her
fingers. Then she pretended to inflate the vest. With a loving tongue she
licked the tube, then put her lips to it and blew, letting her cheeks puff up.
The audience clapped with appreciation when she announced that her
presentation was over.
The girls then each made sure each passenger was strapped into his
seat. Bending over, each female presented an admirable rear view to the
men across the aisle. After strapping in each man the stew gently
unzipped him, first asking permission, of course, and drew forth his cock
with questing hands. I heard Tiffany explain the reason: ÒYour penis will
need lots of oxygen during takeoff. The blood gets redistributed in your
body as the airplane lifts off, and its most healthy for your cock if it is
erect and free of any restraint. Of course,Ó she continued with wide-eyed
innocence, Òon ordinary flights laws and such wonÕt allow this, but here
the health of our passengers is our foremost concern, and there arenÕt any
children present that might cause it to be a problem. Please make sure
your penis is fully erect during takeoff, sir, and ask a stewardess for
assistance if you need it.Ó She gave her charge a few quick strokes to
make sure he was properly presenting himself, then kissed the tip for him
and told him to be a good boy. The man seemed about to lose himself with
excitement. ÒSir, discharging is not allowed in the passenger lounge,Ó
Tiffany said, using Elizabeth airlineÕs terminology for first class,
sometimes called the Òfirst class passenger lounge.Ó ÒPlease hold
yourself in until the play portion of our flight, when you will be
encouraged to discharge as many times as you can. O.K.?Ó Her voice was
lilting, musical. The man nodded his head vigorously, his body trembling
slightly.
A stewardess ran past Tiffany toward my hideout in the flight
kitchen. She appeared flustered.
ÒWhatÕs the matter?Ó Tiffany asked, her voice louder than the two of
them would have needed if they were conversing alone. Obviously, this
was meant to be heard.
ÒOh, the man in 5B has had an accident,Ó Beverly replied. ÒWhere do
we keep the vomit bags?Ó
ÒSperm bags, you mean,Ó Tiffany said. ÒOh, yes. IÕd almost
forgotten. Men, weÕre going to give each of you a little sperm bag. If you
feel you absolutely must shoot, please hold the bag over your cock.Ó She
took a bag from Beverly as the woman emerged from the flight kitchen
with a handful of them. A little plastic pouch, Tiffany opened it and held
it over the cockhead of the nearest man. She asked him politely if he
understood what he must do if he felt the need to cum. He nodded, as if he
were a schoolboy learning from Teacher some difficult new subject.
ÒThatÕs good!Ó Tiffany congratulated the boy/man, and let him have
the bag. She gave the stem of his cock a little pinch by way of farewell
and told him she new she could count on him to save himself for recess.
Like a gaggle of schoolgirls the stews then retreated to the flight
kitchen. While the plane trundled out toward the runway they merrily
compared mental notes about the different menÕs cocks. I listened with
fascination as the girls gossiped about which man they liked best, and
which organ.
The pilot announced that the airplane was ready for takeoff. With
calm efficiency Tiffany and Beverly emerged from the flight kitchen and
swept down the aisles. They touched each manÕs cock to make sure it was
sticking up as it should be. Meanwhile, the other girls began buckling
themselves into the bulkhead. It turned out that they were to remain
standing during takeoff, but with their arms tied off above them and their
legs spread, their calves overlapping and their ankles secured with straps.
I watched with amazement as Tiffany, returning to the front of the plane,
hurried the girls into position. Like soldiers the girls lined themselves up
across the length of the bulkhead. Tiffany buckled each one into her
restraints if a friend hadnÕt done so already. Then Tiffany and Beverly
each broke open a collapsible seat by the bulkhead and sat down and put on
a seatbelt. I myself found a collapsible seat in the flight kitchen and sat
in that. With a roar the plane lifted off and a moment later we were
skyborne, to what heights of depravity I could only guess.
The flight soon took on a humdrum air, as the plane slowly gained
altitude. When the ÒFasten Seat BeltsÓ sign went off Tiffany and Beverly
freed the other girls and they began bustling about the planes, checking
each passenger and asking what he wished for in the way of snacks and
drinks. I noticed that despite the intimate friendships that were
developing between the girls and their passengers there was no touching
of the females, no groping. This was another rule of ElizabethÕs, and I
heard there was a bouncer in the cockpit to enforce it if need be, an ex
boxing champion. But no rules were violated, and so the girls were able to
serve their passengers with happy abandon, keeping each manÕs cock up if
it started to sag and answering any questions they might have about the
girlÕs measurements, or her favorite foods and the like. Sex, however,
was not discussed. Another of ElizabethÕs little rules to keep up a sense
of sophisticated decorum, even on a flight that looked like it was hauling
a crop of freshly grown toadstools. With a delighted look in her eye
Tiffany advised each man that he could put his penis away if he wished,
now that the plane had taken off. If, for his enjoyment or out of simple
need he had to keep it exposed, he was permitted to, the only rule being
that it must be fully erect at all times, so as not to look unmanly.
In the kitchen I soon became busy helping two other girls prepare
snack trays for the passengers. It was so enjoyable working with them,
being a real stewardess, that I almost forgot about my bare behind! Only
when the girls went out to serve the trays, leaving me behind, did I think
about it. But I reassured myself, telling myself I was new and theyÕd let
me have an easy flight. Then, not dead like a cat, IÕd head off for some
new experience in life, with the feather neatly placed in my cap, available
to impress any girl with, that IÕd flown as a stewardess on ÒDungeon
Airlines.Ó
Am I a ÒlifestÓ? Someone who embraces life? I didnÕt think so,
actually. I always saw myself as quiet, reserved. And indeed Elizabeth
had called me her Òlittle nun.Ó So, sure that I was still my same old
conservative self, I played with the little plastic swords in the flight
kitchen while the girls took care of our guests. I arranged the little
swords by color, looked at myself in a mirror holding one, and finally set
about spearing olives with them.
The trays were collected at last and returned to the kitchen, where I
and two other girls set about dumping the leftovers into a trash bin. It
was the first truly unpleasant thing IÕd had to do, looking at that half-
eaten food, but my companions had bright spirits and I decided to think
like they did. It seemed odd, I reflected to myself, that being bare-
bottomed on a flight full of men presenting their penises was less
objectionable to me than scraping trays. ÒYou are a silly girl,Ó I scolded
myself. ÒJust a spoiled mall rat from Rio. I can just see you explaining
this to your children when they have to clean their plates. ÔWell, girls,Õ
youÕll say. ÔYou can either help me wash up the dishes or you can run
around the house with bare bottoms.Õ And then I shivered. For I knew
every little girl delighted at least once in her life in racing around the
house naked, chased by Poppa or brother and perhaps even spanked soundly
when she was caught. Or even running out of her bedroom naked in front of
guests, that was even more of a delightful dare, I thought to myself, and
how IÕd let a friend goad me into doing it when I was four. Mommie had
been so surprised. She was having a quiet dinner, my friend and I
supposedly tucked away for the night, when all of a sudden I bolted out of
my bedroom. I squealed and laughed and jiggled myself crazily, my little
bottom doing a wiggly dance as I streaked around the table. Mommie had
to run me down to get hold of me, finally catching me in my bedroom, by
my pile of teddie bears. She picked me up and sat down on my bed and put
me over her knee and lifted her hand to whack my fanny. I was scared but
somewhere inside I was trembling with anticipation, I realized. I knew
the guests would hear me bawl and I could keep their attention for half an
hour, maybe, I thought. TheyÕd say, ÒMy, sheÕs a little dickens.Ó And
Mommie would say, ÒYes, sheÕs a handful alright.Ó But instead my mommie
lowered her hand, softly, on my heinie. Then she bent over and kissed me
on each upturned cheek.
ÒYouÕve had your fun. Now I want you to go to bed, okay?Ó she said to
me. I looked up at her, my eyes wide.
ÒOkay, mommie,Ó I replied. And so I slipped into bed with my friend.
We actually went to sleep then, instead of staying up all night like weÕd
planned and bothering the guests. Later when I got up to go to the
bathroom I thought I heard mommie crying. There was a cracking sound in
the distance. I slipped out of my bedroom and went upstairs. I knocked on
mommieÕs bedroom door. A lady answered, her hair wreathing her face.
She had lovely long hair and she was very pretty. I saw that she had
wrapped a towel around her, but it didnÕt look like sheÕd just stepped out
of a bathtub or anything. And she was wearing stockings, black fishnet
stockings, with high heels. On her forearms she wore matching fishnet
gloves, tied just above the elbows with little black bows. Otherwise she
seemed to have nothing on, except for the towel, which she was still
trying to tuck into place.
I told the lady I wanted my mommie. She stroked my hair and said
mommie was busy, that she would be my mommie for awhile if I wanted. I
said no, but she offered to read me a story and said mommie had specially
asked her to see that I got some ice cream if I wanted it, for being so good
earlier and going to sleep like I was supposed to. Of course I immediately
agreed that this must be done, this having of ice cream, especially as
mommie was always limiting how much I could have. Mommie always said
if I had too much my teeth would all fall out and IÕd grow up to be fat. But
tonight I could have a special treat for being good. So I trooped
downstairs, holding my newfound mistress firmly by the hand, and had
almost as much ice cream as I pleased, while she gazed at me softly and
happily and told me how much she wanted a daughter just like me.
Out in the cabin Tiffany was being asked about dessert.
ÒElizabeth wants you all to have a healthful dessert,Ó Tiffany
replied.
ÒWhat?Ó a man asked.
ÒCucumbers,Ó Tiffany said. ÒI realize you might not like cucumbers
ordinarily, but Elizabeth assured me that they taste very good with pussy
juice on them. Would you like to try some?Ó An amazed cheer of approval
erupted from the passengers. Tiffany said that she would have to rub
herself, and it might be a little obscene, and would anyone object to it?
Nobody did. Lifting the hem of her jacket just a little, not enough to allow
a clear view of her pussy, Tiffany cupped her pubis with her hand, then let
the jacket drape back down over it. Moistening her upper lip with her
tongue, as if to inspire the lips below, she began to massage herself. The
other stewardesses joined in, each titillating herself with her fingers
while discreetly keeping her pussy from being displayed. I watched with
awestruck eyes as each girl, still in her smart flight jacket, still the
perfect picture of efficiency, rubbed herself toward orgasm. Each of them
began emitting little moans, and it was all I could do to contain myself, to
keep from rubbing myself along with them. Not a few of the sperm bags
had to be put to use, the men jetting into them with abandon while others
frantically tried to hang on to their own loads. I realized that it was
Elizabeth at work again, settling the men down, taking off their edge, to
keep them under control.
When each girl felt she was wet enough she took a cucumber from a
tray on one of the little flight carts. TheyÕd been rolled out under the
covers of gleaming silver lidded serving trays, as if what was underneath
was chocolate pie or some other ordinary dessert. Each female inserted
the cucumber into herself, holding her cunt lips open but trying her best
not to expose them to the passengerÕs prying eyes. Then she would move
the cucumber up and down a few times within herself to properly wet it,
and then slowly remove it. When the end finally popped out she delivered
it to the closest passenger, who promptly chomped into it. Even the two
female passengers joined in the game, each delicately taking a bite out of
the cucumber when a stewardess presented it to her.
Next it was time for a movie, Tiffany announced to the passengers.
She went up to the bulkhead and, standing on her tiptoes, her hindcheeks
peeking out from underneath her jacket, she reached up and pulled down a
little movie screen. Then a movie was shown, about how to properly wear
a condom. Cartoon figures demonstrated how the condom was worn,
slipping it on each other and engaging in various sex acts with it it place.
A man did a woman and a man did a man, while happy music chirped away
in the background.
After this Tiffany stepped into the flight kitchen. IÕd heard her
announce something about the Òentertainment.Ó
ÒAre you ready?Ó she asked.
ÒI guess so,Ó I replied, suddenly breathless.
ÒJust walk to the back of first class and open the doors to ÔcoachÕ,Ó
she said, using the euphemism for the airborne dungeon area.
ÒOkay,Ó I said.
ÒIÕll be unzipping up front while you do,Ó she added.
I gulped. After a final check in the kitchenÕs full-length mirror, I
stepped out. I began walking down the aisle. Behind me, Tiffany stepped
out of the flight kitchen. With a flourish, saying that it was time for the
Òfestivities,Ó she unzipped the front of her jacket and her beautiful boobs
spilled out. I stole a glance over my shoulder and saw that all eyes were
fixed on her. She brandished her bosoms as if they were ornaments rather
than part of her body. They were for the passengersÕ enjoyment, she said,
and in due time they could pluck at and suckle and perhaps even bite them,
if they promised to do it gently. The other flight attendants, following
TiffanyÕs lead, bravely bared their own sumptuous globes, their nipples
invitingly sprouting. I half wondered if they werenÕt a flight hazard. A
passenger might get poked in the eye with all those lovely pairs of nipples
sticking out, especially if there was turbulence.
Reaching the double doors that separated ÒcoachÓ from first class, I
took hold of their handles. They were brass, highly polished, set on doors
of cherry wood. I was just pushing them open when Tiffany pointed me out
to the passengers. They turned, seeing me really for the first time, thanks
to the fact theyÕd all been distracted by her, and because all the seats
faced forward. Blushingly I pushed the dungeonÕs doors wide open as
everyoneÕs eyes fixed on my bare ass. Mine was the first for them to
really get a good look at, and they admired it as lustily as I imagined
momÕs guests had admired me when IÕd run around her dinner table naked.
I had a rather wide stance, thanks to some idiot leaving a snack tray on
the floor where I was supposed to stand. Glancing back at the passengers
I smiled at them, meekly, my long legs in a bold vee and my ass sticking
out unashamedly like twin white creampuffs.
Beyond me lay only darkness. The dungeon was completely black.
Elizabeth had mentioned that the windows in the dungeon were blacked
out, so absolutely no one could see inside. ÒWe donÕt need piper cubs
zipping around us trying to get a view,Ó sheÕd told me.
Two stewardesses brushed past me. Their jackets were now
unzipped, like TiffanyÕs, their breasts displayed like ripe fruit at a
market.
ÒCome gentlemen...ladies?Ó Tiffany said. ÒLetÕs play.Ó With robust
enthusiasm the passengers got up and began filing toward the back. Not
wanting to be run over, I slipped inside the dungeon, where Amber and
Sylvia were busy lighting candles fixed on the walls. Amidst the
flickering gloom I saw for the first time ElizabethÕs Òentertainment
center.Ó There were cages, trestles, a rape rack, plus a hot tub with fresh
towels stacked beside it. On the walls every conceivable type of
flagellation instrument known to man seemed to be waiting, and I
wondered with trepidation whether they were for the stews to use on the
passengers, or vice versa. Bottles and vials busied a little night stand,
and there was a flower vase with colored condoms in it, prettily arranged.
Everything you could think of was there, and many things I didnÕt want to
think of.
I thought then a melee might ensue. Both the men and the women
passengers seemed eager to unburden themselves of their stiff, starchy
businesslike clothing. That was another of ElizabethÕs requirements, one
newly implemented. There was a dress code for the passengers as well as
the stews. I suspected it had something to do with why they hesitated
now, didnÕt act like the hungry mob that they actually were.
Tiffany glided through them, bade them to sit down. Turning round,
they noticed for perhaps the first time (certainly I did!) that the room had
childrenÕs chairs in it, as if for some preschool or library story hour. With
some bumbling and clumsiness they sat down, the men, at least, still
riveted with awe to Tiffany, who paused before them.
Glorious as ever, her magnificent breasts now freely displayed, still
wrapped in her endearing little flight jacket, Tiffany began pointing out
the ÒaccoutermentsÓ of the dungeon as if she were giving another safety
demonstration at takeoff. The other girls, their nipples twitching, a few
of them uttering pretty little moans of arousal from their still lingering
experience with the cucumbers, knelt expectantly amongst the guests. As
for myself I stood awkwardly off to one side, facing our passengers, my
bottom safely out of view once more, the rest of me still neatly covered,
as if I were to simply watch like some governess and not participate.
ÒAnd lastly here we have Barbi,Ó Tiffany said, pointing to me as if I
were just one more toy in her dungeon. ÒShe is a new stew, and she must
be properly broken in.Ó Tiffany beckoned to Amber and Sylvia, the two
girls who IÕd helped in the flight kitchen. The rose and padded softly over
to me, the heels of their booties muffled by the smooth carpet. With
gentle hands they stroked my shoulders and hair, as if presenting a new
car or something to potential buyers. I felt a rush of excitement like
when IÕd been naughty before mommieÕs guests. As Tiffany introduced me
one of the girls pulled my long hair out of the way while the other
whispered open the zipper at the back of my dress. With relish in their
eyes they slipped the straps of my dress off my shoulders and in an
instant I went from being the most clothed to the most naked. I stood
before the crowd now revealed as IÕd been when I was four, but now I
smiled sweetly and blushed instead of acting crazy. The girls retreated
with my dress, leaving me all alone with nothing on before a roomful of
strangers.
Tiffany stepped up to me. She asked me to raise my right hand. I
obeyed, stifling a giggle. Even though I was somewhat fearful about being
in a dungeon with so many awful things in it I couldnÕt help but feel that
we were all playing roles, me and Tiffany and even the passengers. We
were delighting in our beauty and in our youth, and they were sharing our
joy, watching with keen eyes our every twitch, impulsive gesture, even
the darting of our eyes.
Tiffany said I must repeat the Elizabeth AirlinesÕ stewardessesÕ
pledge. I nodded.
ÒI promise to always be beautiful...Ó
ÒI promise to always be beautiful...Ó
ÒTo keep my hair pretty and my nails brightly polished, to love my
passengers as much as myself and always to obey any legal order that a
passenger gives me.Ó My voice echoed her as she led me phrase by phrase
through the singsong chant. When IÕd finished she lightly took hold of me
and kissed me on the lips.
ÒNow my dear you must be spanked, the same as when a baby is
delivered, and I want you to cry a little too, just like a newborn should,Ó
Tiffany said. ÒBecause on this flight youÕre our Baby Stew, our Air Baby!Ó
And she said it with such delighted triumph, taking me quickly by the hand
and leading me immediately across the room, that I could only stumble
after her. She sat down on a leather chair, a chair for grownups, which
was straightbacked and without any arms. And before I could protest
sheÕd thrust me over her knees, just like my mommie had so long ago.
With her knees parted, to allow the men an open view of her pussy, she
began to swiftly spank me. Hard smacks, that rang about the room as I
blanched and started at the suddenness with which I was being given pain.
ÒOh! This hurts my hand so!Ó Tiffany said soon. As I wiggled over
her knees, wondering what to do, she asked the passengers what theyÕd
like to see me spanked with. A cacophony of horrific suggestions were
made, but Sylvia appeared with a hairbrush and Tiffany took that at once
because it was handiest. With increasing pain now I suffered a new
assault of blows, clinically delivered it seemed without any mercy, though
Tiffany did stroke my long blonde mane as she whacked my bottom,
constantly admonishing me to hold still.
I couldnÕt decide whether to jump up and run or take my medicine and
be done with it. I didnÕt want to run around the room naked, did I, like I
had with mommieÕs guests? Yet the plump halves of my bottom were
practically blazing under TiffÕs onslaught. The brush was hard and she did
not hesitate to use it fully and completely, striking every part of my fanny
like it was some rug that needed the dust beaten out of it. Yet it was
quivering flesh, my flesh, connected right to me, and I could feel every
stinging blow most intensely.
Still, though, I wasnÕt crying. I was still too shocked at my sudden
change of circumstances to do that. IÕd been like some cherished flower
all through the flight, bottled up in the vase of my dress, remaining
immaculate even when the girls were pumping themselves with
cucumbers, their breath heated and their dells moistening most
indiscreetly. And then their bosoms had been shown off, while mine
remained safely concealed within my dress.
Now my lustrous wobbling hindcheeks clenched and unclenched
repeatedly, showing off every aspect of my person. My legs dangled
somewhere behind me, gangly and awkward, kicking uncontrollably. My
fists were balled and my head was bobbing up and down, eyes and mouth
agape with dismayed confusion.
ÒHold still IÕm not done yet you naughty girl,Ó Tiffany said as I
wriggled like a fish on her knees. My hands clenched and unclenched, I
gasped for air. I would have felt humiliated but IÕd chosen to be here, had
let them undress me, had happily (if wonderingly) watched their rude
display in first class. IÕd not asked for modesty to be imposed when
theyÕd taken off their panties, or taken out the menÕs cocks. And IÕd
wanted to masturbate right along with them when they juiced up the
cucumbers for the passengers. IÕd even conducted a furtive search in the
kitchen for a cucumber of my own, though I found none and nothing that
would substitute.
Tiffany stopped and made me stand up. With burning cheeks I got
awkwardly to my feet and my hands flew immediately to my ass.
ÒThat hurt!Ó I sulked, rubbing my hiney. My chest heaved as if on the
verge of tears, my bosoms rising and falling with my short, quick breaths.
ÒOf course it did dear, it was supposed to,Ó Tiffany replied. She
stood, cast her head back and ran her hands through her hair with a single,
sweeping gesture, the very model of feminie confidence. Her boobs were
sticking out like melons and her cunt was wet but she acted as if sheÕd
just risen from her seat in a boardroom or a class at college. Once more
she drew all eyes to her, and I felt jealous. I stood clutching my injured
bottom, like some four-year-old, while she boldly kept all the men both in
play and under control at the same time, their cocks stemming up lustily,
their desire somehow still strictly contained in her delicate hands.
ÒIs there anyone here who still hasnÕt come yet?Ó She asked bluntly.
Many of the men had cum at least a little and were up again for more, still
valiantly holding back the main part of their loads. TheyÕd be slower to
shoot the second time, which was what Tiffany wanted, I guessed, slow
attentive lovers rather than lusty stallions. We were all tarts, after all,
and they, sweet as they might be, were paying passengers who expected
services to be rendered. They didnÕt quite know what they could get away
with, but you had to keep an eye out for the one who might suddenly break
loose and go wild. Even the bouncer might not be able to stop him if he big
enough, and desperate enough. We were, after all, playing games here,
putting on a little show for their enjoyment. This was no Òfriends onlyÓ
orgy where everyone was automatically trusted.
ÒI want everyone to come at least once before we go any further,Ó
Tiffany said, sweet but firm, confirming my musings. She strode among
the men, inspecting them, exchanging silent glances with their female
Òhandlers.Ó ÒYou may come again and again if you wish, that doesnÕt
matter, but you must have had your first ejaculation by now, a least a
little, and real sperm too, not pre-cum.Ó
ÒThis one hasnÕt come at all yet Tiffany,Ó Amber said sheepishly,
turning her head away from the man for fear he might slap her. He
growled something at her but it was inaudible.
ÒItÕs okay,Ó Tiffany said, striding quickly over to the man,
reassuring him. ÒYou should be glad you havenÕt cum yet.Ó He was young,
with a thick, sturdy cock
ÒWell you told us not to,Ó the man retorted, though heÕd softened
already under TiffanyÕs skillful manipulation. Tiffany gazed down
admiringly at his cock.
ÒMy, youÕve got a real workhorse here,Ó she said. She knelt and
touched him, handled him as if he were a prize cucumber on display.
Gently she licked his pee hole, then kissed it submissively. ÒDonÕt you
want to give me a faceful of sperm?Ó she asked. ÒIÕm rather bossy, you
know. And very demanding.Ó She nuzzled his cock with her nose. ÒMy,
such marvelous self-control,Ó she said. She inhaled the masculine aroma
of his groin, the sweat of his tension and nervousness, the salty tang of
the pre-cum that coated his cockhead. ÒAt least you should clean off all
this pre-cum if youÕre not going to shoot today,Ó Tiffany advised with
catlike mischief in her eyes. And she licked it clean for him, stroke by
loving stroke, laving her tongue over and around the sweet plum of his
organ. I longed to do it for her, and I felt a rising desire within me to have
that faceful of sperm, to have it in my face or wherever he wanted to
stick it.
ÒDoesnÕt anything make you cum?Ó Tiffany asked when his cock was
sparkling clean.
ÒWhat about you?Ó the man asked. ÒYou havenÕt cum yet.Ó
ÒOh, well thatÕs company policy,Ó Tiffany said. ÒWeÕre
stewardesses. WeÕre responsible for your safety. We have to keep our
wits about us at all times, though weÕre allowed to play with ourselves a
little bit. Would you like me to play with myself now?Ó
ÒNo,Ó the man said gruffly. ÒI want you to bend over and I want to
fuck you.Ó Tiffany spread the manÕs legs as wide as she could, as if to
castrate him. He let her, not objecting, letting her have complete control.
She pushed herself in close to him and, offering up her breasts, said, ÒPut
your dick right here, right between my tits, and IÕll squeeze them together
as hard as I can. And with my mouth IÕll suck your cock so hard youÕll
think its inside me.Ó
ÒNo,Ó the man said. But the girls were already handing Tiffany a
bottle of baby oil. Slowly, licking her lips and telling him how much she
wanted to taste his sperm, she squirted the baby oil onto her breasts.
First the tip of each nipple, dripping down quickly to trail down her
tummy, then around each areole, then thickly along the insides of her
bosoms where they faced each other.
ÒNow letÕs do your cock,Ó Tiffany said, and she coated him with long,
languid squirts from the bottle. ÒOh, youÕre so handsome I just have to rub
myself a little first,Ó Tiffany said, and with her other hand she palmed
her pussy even as she kept squirting the man. Sylvia pried the manÕs
zipper halves wider apart and Tiffany filled the opening with oil. The man
had oil in his trousers now and all over his cock. It glistened under the
flickering flames of the dungeon as they licked up toward the ceiling,
keeping everything bathed in an eerie halflight, where all was seen yet not
completely so, it seemed, passing briefly into shadow and out again,
perpetually intriguing. From afar I watched his cock and wished I could
suck it, or grease my own breasts and let it inseminate my mouth instead
of TiffanyÕs. ÒYouÕre very big,Ó she told him frankly, though he was no
larger than normal. ÒI donÕt know if IÕm going to be able to take all of you
in my mouth, but IÕll try.Ó She wiped off his dickhead first with a hot wet
cloth handed to her by one of the girls. She squeezed his plum hard as she
held the cloth over it, clenching her teeth, looking briefly angry. The man
flinched but otherwise did nothing. ÒAlright then,Ó Tiffany said. ÒI guess
IÕll just have to give you the royal treatment, then.Ó Opening her mouth to
an exaggerated wideness she closed it over his plum. ÒMmmm,Ó she said
at once, looking up at him as she sucked him greedily by his cockhead. The
man trembled. It was the first real sign of vulnerability IÕd seen in him.
Suddenly I found myself rooting for him, hoping he would hold out. But I
realized Tiffany would never let go of him now Ôtil heÕd shot.
Her gorgeous breasts closed over the gleaming member. With
stalwart stoicism the man watched as Tiffany began the ride that would
cost him his sperm. ThereÕd be no Òlittle ejaculationÓ with Tiffany, no
brief shot that escapes before a man can regain himself. SheÕd bring him
to a fever pitch and ride him with her titties until he unleashed everything
he had on her.
With catlike grace Tiffany began to bob up and down. She held her
breasts pressed tightly together over the manÕs organ. With her mouth she
kept a deadly grip on his crown. Her dress hiked up in back, showing first
a little of her bottom, then all of it. She was deliciously round in back
with sweetly parted cheeks that moved as she moved. I watched with
amazed eyes as Sylvia, perhaps inspired for the first time, stroked
TiffanyÕs ass and then knelt directly behind her. With a smile at Amber
she took the bottle of baby oil and, at a jerk of surprise from Tiffany,
inserted the tip right into TiffanyÕs asshole. With a firm squeeze on the
bottle, her other hand still softly caressing TiffanyÕs behind, Sylvia shot
baby oil right up TiffanyÕs rectum. Tiffany seemed to want to turn her
head around to see what was going on, but she resisted the temptation,
keeping the customerÕs plum firmly planted in her mouth. Beverly, by now
guessing what the girls had in mind, went to a table and selected a large
black dildo. She took it over to them and Sylvia stood and Amber helped
her buckle it on. Tiffany, meanwhile, was beginning to look desperate, for
the man had not cum yet and if he didnÕt right away she was going to get a
big nigger cock right up her porcelain ass. Together the girls hosed down
the big member with baby oil, exchanging knowing glances, delighted at
themselves for even getting this far. Secretly I wished to see it happen.
She had spanked me and she deserved to be buggered, I thought. Let her
see how she liked that!
ÒPlease, sir!Ó I cried at the stalwart with sudden glee. ÒHold on as
long as you can! DonÕt give up now!Ó Tiffany attempted to turn her head
toward me, as if to scold me, but the need to hang on to the manÕs cock
held her in place.
Sylvia knelt down behind Tiffany. ÒRemember when I was a
newbie?Ó She asked gently. She was caressing TiffÕs behind again but her
fingers looked as if they were about to commit some offense, lingering
over the skin, touching it. A shoplifterÕs fingers. ÒDo you remember what
you stuck up my bottom, hmmm? How I wailed for you to take it out?
How you said I needed to be stretched, opened, if I could ever properly
accommodate the customers? Yet all the while little did we know that
Miss Delicacy herself had a cherry ass, just like mine was. And sheÕs
never had it stretched at all, have you?Ó
It was amazing to watch Sylvia. She was the most sweet, innocent
girl, a schoolgirl really, in a black flight jacket that would have fit a
junior high school girl properly. She was older, which meant the jacket
was Ònicely fitted,Ó as Elizabeth might say, meaning it was two sizes too
small. But a womanÕs jacket would have been too big for her, she was so
young still, barely a year older than me. And she was more diminutive
than I was, though with girlishly skinny legs and a bust the size of statue
in Milan. This darling little girl had suddenly transformed herself into a
kind of living Vampire now, with a big cock belted on that she intended to
impale her mistressÕ bottom on.
Beverly placed her hands firmly on TiffanyÕs shoulders, letting them
rise and fall with the girlÕs movements but not allowing her to get up.
Behind, Amber and another girl helped part TiffanyÕs ass. Sylvia, settled
in place behind her victim, nudged the young womanÕs rosette with the
dildoÕs head.
ÒNo!Ó Tiffany cried suddenly, her head flying up, liberating the manÕs
cock. Sylvia seemed startled, lost her poise. The strapped-on phallus
waggled menacingly just beyond TiffanyÕs nether portal, nuzzling it but
not intruding.
ÒYes, dear, it is time, suck the cock dear, he deserves it,Ó Beverly
said in small, whispered phrases, stroking TiffanyÕs lovely golden hair.
The man would get his fuck after all, though it would be more obscene
than he ever could have hoped, a beautiful lass fucking his lovely while
other lovelies looked on. They would all help her lose her nether virginity,
this strutting young blonde whoÕd been so high and mighty, so organized,
so disciplined. They would pry that little anal ring of hers right open and
give her something up her colon that would really discipline her!
With awe in my eyes I drew toward the proceedings, as Beverly
parted the lips of TiffanyÕs mouth, restored the still unbroken cock to her.
Meekly now, it seemed, Tiffany gulped in the cock. She was no longer
trying to force the man to cum. She was more worried about her tight
little ass. Behind, TiffanyÕs fanny was yanked apart once more, this time
for good. The girls would not let go of it this time, no matter what
Tiffany yelled. With whimpering sounds Tiffany kept up her sucking,
waiting, her cheeks flexing and tensing in the girlsÕ hands as Amber helped
Sylvia guide the phallus to its target. The crowd drew forward, everyone,
passengers and stews. There was a hushed silence.
ÒOommphhh!Ó Tiffany yelped suddenly. Her mouth, still closed over
the cockhead, muffled her cry. Her eyes turned frantic as the big dildo
nosed its way uncomfortably into her rectum. Then another cry from
Tiffany, her lips parting this time, almost losing the big penis in front of
her, while behind there would be no losing what entered her now.
Tiffany continued to bounce up and down bravely, squeezing the
manÕs penis with her breasts, sluicing them between her bunched, oiled
bosoms. Behind SylviaÕs dildo made its inexorable entry, helped along by
TiffanyÕs courageous bucking. The girls stroked Tiffany, whispering words
of encouragement, tickled her tummy and her titties, invaded her cunt
with their fingertips.
Softly Tiffany began crying, her tears running down the manÕs penis,
as behind the itching, burning fake cock forced itself deeper into her.
Tiffany bounced faster, whether to attempt to dislodge it or finish herself
I couldnÕt tell. With patience and grace Sylvia worked it up her, bucking
her own hips to get it up, not rushing her mistress. She bent forward and
kissed TiffanyÕs back once, twice, again. The girls pulled TiffÕs asscheeks
harder apart. Some stews, aroused by the sight, popped the penises of the
men nearest them and began sucking, whether the man wanted to cum
again or not. Several rubbed themselves too. I watched, burning now with
desire, and helplessly I began rubbing my own clitty.
ÒOh! No! Please,Ó I cried, but I could not stop myself. I reeled back
on my heels, almost losing my balance, swayed right once, left. Then I
collapsed to my knees and, spreading my legs as far as I could, I abandoned
myself to sexual pleasure.
A little later I was still on my knees, shivering, as Tiffany once
again stalked before us. She was haughty, proud, but her makeup was
smeared a bit with tears and her gait was ungainly. SheÕd had a hard ride,
and she had a very sore bottom. Fleetingly her fingers would dart back to
her buttcrack, touch it lightly, as if a touch could repair the widening
sheÕd received. But she was still in charge, still our mistress, and no
damage had been done to anything but her pride. Her anal ring would need
many stretchings before it was actually physically wider, more distended,
but it would never be quite so precious again, so untouched, so perfectly
innocent and naive. Now Tiffany knew what it felt like to have her little
hole opened and something jammed up it. Her secret, her anal virginity,
which sheÕd held so close all these months while acting the part of the
totally experienced dome, had been stripped from her forever.
ÒYou have all been very naughty,Ó Tiffany intoned, gathering her
thoughts. She picked up a riding crop and was aimlessly whacking her
thigh with it. ÒYou girls know youÕre not supposed to come. You know
that. Oh, if you come while youÕre sawing away on the cucumbers, and its
really an accident, Elizabeth will overlook it. But not in the dungeon. Not
where the passengers might really get out of control and tie us up to this
shit or something!Ó She made a wide, sweeping gesture with her hand,
taking all in all the awful instruments that were on display in the room.
ÒBut you especially have been naughty,Ó she said, turning suddenly to
me. ÒBecause you didnÕt cry when I spanked you and because...well, youÕre
supposed to have your very first airborne orgasm on this flight. And IÕm
supposed to give it to you. For the entertainment of our paying customers.
But now youÕve already had an orgasm.Ó
ÒI can have more,Ó I offered, helpfully cupping my pussy with my
hand. With my other I tweaked the nipple on my left breast.
ÒWhat about the condom film?Ó a man called out.
ÒJust for your enjoyment,Ó Tiffany replied. ÒAnd for your
instruction should you wish to fuck any of the women...passengers.Ó The
women had both found someone with a stiff cock during TiffanyÕs ordeal
and rode him to victory, without any condom, which was again a violation
of ElizabethÕs rules.
Tiffany dragged me up by the hair and, turning me slightly, gazed for
a moment at my bottom, as if seeing it anew. ÒYes,Ó she said. ÒYou will
do very nicely.Ó And then she gave me such a hard slap on my tushy that,
whether from nervousness or pain, I leapt up and let out a tribal howl.
30
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-END OF story EMISSION