Blackmail Tarts: Airline Debauchery

We parked.

Once we'd walked to the terminal, she said, "Let's skip to the loo."

Needing to go, I joked, "You read my mind."

"I know," she nodded, again taking my words differently than I intended.

In the bathroom, she opened her suitcase and tossed me a bag.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Your airline outfit," she said, matter-of-factly.

"My what?" I asked.

"I've chosen all your clothing for the weekend," she said, "this is the outfit you'll wear for the flight."

"Seriously?" I asked, as I began to open the bag.

"This weekend you're my bitch," she declared, which oddly made my pussy tingle as I imagined something a lot more perverse than she likely meant.

Opening the bag, and seeing a red and blue cheerleader outfit in it, I repeated, "Seriously."

"Give me an 'A'!" she joked, posing with hip cocked and one arm over her head like a cheerleader. "Now go and put it on."

"Fine!" I sighed, knowing she was going to be relentless.

I went into the stall and looked inside the bag. Besides the short skirt and sweater was a pair of red and blue horizontally striped thigh highs that matched.

I again objected, "You can't really be serious, Laura. I'll look like a teenage tart."

"That's the point," Laura replied back. "Now hurry up. We've got to check in, go through security and get a bite to eat before our flight."

"Fine!" I repeated, trying to communicate to her how not fine this was.

She ignored my tone, like she often did, and I got out of my casual attire and put on the thigh highs first. I love stockings and Laura knows this so this wasn't a surprise. And these were quality sheer silk stockings, even though the stripes made me look like a carny tart.

I then put on the skimpy skirt that didn't come close to covering the lace tops of the stockings.

I then put on the sweatshirt over my sports bra (I taught physical education, so I always dressed casual for work in a sports bra, comfy panties, track pants and a t-shirt), which I quickly learned was a size or two too small... tight enough that my tits stood out like small basketballs with cherries on top.

I again repeated, "Laura, you can't be serious. I look like a complete bimbo slut."

"This weekend you are a complete bimbo slut," she said, before demanding, "now open up."

I sighed, even as I wondered about her words, and exited the stall, runners in hand.

"Hot," she said, checking me out.

I looked in the mirror and realized I did look sexy... I mean porn star slutty... but still... pretty hot.

She then lifted up my skirt and laughed, "Granny panties?"

"Practical panties," I countered.

To my surprise, just as the door opened, she pulled my panties down and off. I mindlessly, quickly lifted up my feet to assist just as a stewardess walked in.

I definitely got looks as I... and the new arrival... watched Laura throw my panties in the garbage can.

I wanted to protest, but didn't, with the stranger looking at me peculiarly.

Laura explained, "Hen."

"Oh," she nodded, and her gaze shifted from disapproving to conspiratorial.

Laura asked, "Are there any airline rules about dressing like this and having no underwear?"

She answered, "No, but letting your flight attendant know wouldn't hurt. Not the no knickers part so much, but the hen part."

"Good to know," Laura nodded.

"They may even upgrade you if there are seats available," she added, before asking, "And where are you going?"

"Amsterdam," Laura answered, as I finally learned our rendezvous location and gasped... Amsterdam being the wildest city in Europe, and perhaps the wildest in the world outside Bangkok.

"That's my flight too," the young stewardess smiled. "Is it just you two?"

"Until tomorrow night," Laura revealed.

"The stewardess said, "Well, give me your names and I'll see if I can bump you to first class."

"That would be great," Laura smiled, as she went to her suitcase and pulled out heels. "Now put these on."

"Five inch heels?" I questioned.

"Too short?" Laura asked jokingly, as she took my runners and put them in her suitcase (thankfully not throwing away a £60 pair of athletic shoes).

I put them on, already feeling nervous about my appearance.

She ordered, as she quickly wrote our names on a piece of paper and gave it to the stewardess, "Let's go."

Mostly sarcastic, but with a subtle hint of what I was secretly fantasizing behind my outer appearance, "Yes, Mistress."

She stopped with a jerk, turned to me and said, "I like that. You will address me as 'Mistress' the entire trip."

"The entire trip?" I repeated, realizing I had just given her more power than she really needed.

"Yes, my pet," she purred with a wicked smile... my own pussy purring and leaking at the term... the lack of underwear definitely going to be a problem if I didn't want to parade around with my upper thighs glistening. ('Mommy, why are that lady's legs glithening?')

I followed her out of the bathroom, feeling that every person who I walked past was checking me out or judging me... which was a logical feeling because it was true. No, not because of 'glistening' legs, but because of such an outrageous outfit for a thirty-year-old to be wearing.

We checked our baggage in, where the older woman behind the counter didn't even attempt to hide her scorn and disgust at what I was wearing. It was like someone had flicked a switch and I didn't mind a bit. I was with Mistress Laura, and all the decisions and responsibility were hers. Not my problem!

Once the suitcases were gone and we had our tickets, Laura said, "Come on, my pet," loud enough for the older judgmental woman to hear.

Deciding 'fuck it', I replied, also making sure I was loud enough for the woman to hear, "Yes, Mistress." Our faces averted from the woman as we strutted saucily away, we shared grins and winks with each other as she gasped loudly.

We then headed to security... where I was worried that if I got a male agent I was going to be hassled like crazy... dressing like a tart was one thing, but the no panties was really making me uncomfortable, especially with the short, short skirt and the possibility that I would be required to stretch my arms over my head.

We waited in line for twenty minutes to get through security... feeling uncomfortable the entire time. Because we were surrounded by other passengers, Laura was tame, talking about the girls arriving tomorrow, report cards, and how our principal was a sexist asshole.

When I got to the security stop, I took off my heels carefully, so as not to flash anyone behind me, before walking through the security thing... knowing I was likely being stared at both by horny men and disgusted women (and hopefully some horny women).

It didn't beep, of course, since I was pretty much naked.

But, of course, I had a woman do the 'random testing' hand bar beep thing, her face clearly judging me negatively. I explained, "Sorry, hen task."

Her hard glare faded as she laughed, "Well, that makes more sense."

"Trust me, not my choice," I clarified.

She laughed, her demeanour changing completely, "Oh, to be young again."

I laughed and went to grab my travel bag... and waited for Laura.

She walked to me a couple of minutes later, and said, "That was disappointing."

"What?"

"I expected you to be strip searched," she smiled.

"I'm already stripped naked," I countered.

"Trust me," she smirked, "you're not what anybody would call naked... yet."

She then started walking, leaving me wondering what that meant. We were in a public airport, about to board a public airline.

I followed, almost feeling like her submissive.

She stopped at a washroom and said, "I need to tinkle. Watch my bag."

"Yes, Mistress," I responded, playing up the sub-domme relationship today was creating.

"I really do enjoy being referred to as 'Mistress'," she said, before leaving me there. Alone, I perused the stores hoping to slyly buy myself a pair of panties... feeling really uncomfortable about being commando with such a short skirt. I saw a couple of knickers I liked and decided I would try to sneakily buy a pair when the chance presented itself.

When she returned, she took her bag and asked, looking at her watch, "Hungry?"

"Starving," I nodded, missing my usual after school snack.

"I bet you are," she purred, her tone not even remotely hiding her sexual intent.

So we went and ate at a pub. We ordered food and I excused myself to the washroom, where instead I headed back to the store and bought a pair of lace black panties. I went to the bathroom and put them on, proud of my secret disobedience.

I returned and she asked, "Get lost?"

I shrugged, "If you must know, I had to go number one and two."

She laughed, "As your weekend Mistress, I need to know everything."

"You're really enjoying this?" I asked.

"You have no idea," she smiled, before adding, "having my own submissive pet for the weekend can be very rewarding."

I thought of some stories I'd read where a submissive was ordered to do some pretty wild things... and wondered how I would react if actually ordered to do something weird... so far I had obeyed (never mind my secret disobedience with the knickers I was now wearing). I shrugged, challenging her, allowing the conversation to continue, "I'm not sure you could handle me."

"Oh really?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow, not used to being challenged, but not threatened by it either.

"Yeah," I continued, not even sure where I was going with this, "when I get going, I'm insatiable."

"Is that a fact?" she asked.

"That's why George loves me so much," I retorted confidently.

"Well, I'll accept that challenge," she smiled, before we finished eating... my cunny on fire.

We ate, had a couple of stiff drinks each, as I joked I'd rather have something else stiff instead. She responded contentedly, "Good to know."

I paid for our meals, and we headed down a concourse to get ready for the flight: go pee one more time, grab a bottle of water (I was already tipsy), and a couple of snacks (the six pretzels one gets from the airline these days not enough, and actually an insult).

I got lots of looks: from teens and men which I enjoyed, and from women that I didn't. A mixture of drools from men and disapproval from women.

We got to the check in gate just as our names were called... which was odd as boarding had not yet started.

Laura joked, "Maybe the stewardess did get us first class seats."

"I wish," I said, never having had the privilege of first class seats... not on a teacher's pay, that's for sure.

We went to the woman behind the counter who smiled, "Hen, right?"

"Yeah, I don't usually dress so conservatively," I joked, nice to have a woman not glaring at me with disgust.

"Well, I've got great news," she continued, after laughing.

"We get to fly the plane?" I again responded sarcastically... being tipsy only adding to my wit.

"Well, not that good of news," she said. "But we have upgraded the two of you to first class, and you're the only two in that section."

"Really?" I asked, surprised and excited.

"Yes, Angela made it happen," she said.

Laura finally spoke, her tone strangely ominous, "Well, Natalie and I will definitely have to thank her personally."

"Definitely," I agreed, oblivious to Laura's wicked intent.

She checked our passports, and she let us board the plane... first!!!

Laura took my hand, as if we were a couple, and said, "Now the fun really begins."

"Your tone scares me," I giggled slightly.

"Oh it shouldn't scare you," she said, giving my hand a squeeze. And it should have scared me, how natural it felt to have her hand in mine. She added, "It should make you feel alive."

Before I could respond, we were at the airplane and being greeted by Angela.

"Welcome, ladies," she greeted warmly.

"Thank you so much," I gushed. "I don't know how I can ever thank you."

"Oh, I imagine we can find a few ways," she smiled. If it hadn't been for Laura's earlier tone I likely wouldn't have thought about it... yet, her tone seemed to be similarly ominous... just like Laura's. She also smiled secretively and gave Laura a significant look.

Laura added, "Yes, it was very gracious of you."

"No problem," Angela smiled warmly, grasping Laura's upper arm familiarly.

Laura then added to my suspicions of naughty innuendo when she said, "Yes, my pet will be more than willing to repay you."

"I can't wait," Angela said, leading us to two seats in the front.

"Wow!" Was all I could muster as I stared at the big comfy chairs and leg room, already forgetting Laura's ominous promise.

"Well, enjoy," Angela smiled, "I need to deal with the rest of the passengers."

"See you soon," Laura smiled, as she offered me the window seat to the right of the aisle, "Go ahead, my pet."

"You sure, Mistress?" I questioned, thoroughly enjoying the sexual tension, playful banter and submissive hierarchy.

"Yes, my pet, I need you to be my right hand gal," she said.

That had me curious, but like in the many online stories I'd read, I didn't question the Mistress.

Once seated, Laura sat beside me as other passengers began walking past us.

Everyone, without exception, checking me out.

And getting past the reality I looked like a cheap Supergirl skank, I began to enjoy it, smiling at the men and women and winking at the college boys.

Once everyone was seated, and another stewardess was making the generic safety announcements that no one ever listened to (I always wonder if anyone would actually know what to do if there was a crisis), Laura whispered, "Ready for take-off?"

She knew I hated take-off, and I nodded, "As good as I can be."

"I have something to keep you distracted," she said, reaching into her purse.

"Drugs?" I joked.

"Better," she smiled, before I watched her move her hand beneath my skirt and order, "Open up."

I was shocked, as I obeyed, and she asked, moving my knickers aside and sliding something inside my wet cunny, "When did you get panties?"

"When I went to the bathroom," I moaned, as something round was now inside me.

"Very well, you will be punished for that disobedience," she said, moving her hand away and putting her fingers, wet with my pussy juice, in my open mouth.

"Sorry," I apologized, thinking how strange it was I was apologizing for wearing panties. I had tasted my pussy on my own fingers many times, but somehow it tasted better and sexier when it was on Laura's.

"Take them off," she ordered.

"Really?" I asked, Angela sitting down near the cockpit door as we got ready for take-off.

"Now!" she almost shouted. It was low volume, but her intensity was startling.

I felt compelled to obey, especially since I was the one who hadn't obeyed in the first place, I lifted my ass up, making the thing inside me move around, as I awkwardly pulled my new panties off.

Once they were off, Laura ordered, "Give them to me."

As I grabbed them, I realized how wet they were. I handed them to her, hoping she wouldn't notice, although it would be impossible not to.

"Holy shit, these are soaked," Laura said, loud enough for Angela to hear. "And you only had these on for an hour?"

"I guess," I answered, realizing how pathetic I seemed to be, becoming that soaked by this treatment.

"You like being my pet, don't you?" she asked.

Deciding to stop hiding behind any false facade of dignity, I admitted, "Yes, Mistress Laura."

"So you will obey my every order this weekend without hesitation?" she asked, as the plane gradually started to move.

"Yes, Mistress," I agreed without hesitation, deciding it was enthralling to just give myself to her for the weekend... wetness leaking out of me.

No thinking.

No worrying about my decisions.

Just obeying.

Living with the philosophy that 'what happens in Amsterdam, stays in Amsterdam', I let loose of any invisible chains holding me back.

"Good," she smiled, taking my hand in her right one and picking something up out of her lap with the other.

"Oh God!" I moaned loudly, as I discovered that what was now in her hand was a remote control, and what was inside me was a vibrating egg... one I recalled her buying a few months ago... at a sex toy party we were at where she was joking to me that she could use it to get off at work during her prep time.

"See, I found the perfect thing to keep you distracted," she said, squeezing my hand, as the vibration sent pleasure through me.

I closed my eyes like I always do when take-off is about to happen... although instead of praying to God to keep me alive, I prayed I wasn't going to scream in orgasmic euphoria as the wild day and the vibrations had me close to coming in seconds.

Then just as I was close... the vibrating stopped. Laura whispered, "Here is your punishment for disobeying."

"Please, let me come," I begged, so close that desperation was my only emotion, just as the plane began picking up speed.

"Only good obedient sluts get to come," Laura said, again loud enough for Angela to hear.

I couldn't believe she'd just called me a slut, but I responded like one, not caring that Angela was listening avidly to every word, "Yes, Mistress Laura, I'll be a good slut."

The vibrations resumed and I moaned, as I closed my eyes again, "Thank you, Mistress."

"Don't open your eyes until you've come twice," she ordered, and the vibrations got more intense just as the plane took off.

"Fuck!" I moaned, biting my lip to not scream and alert the entire plane I was having a first class orgasm.

Laura chuckled, "You just took off."

I smiled at the double meaning, but kept my eyes shut and just focused on enjoying the orgasm that was ripping through me at turbo speed... not at all worried about dying in a massive burst of flames... the flames consuming me at the moment being very welcome ones.

"Keep coming, my eager submissive slut," Laura ordered, her right hand going to my leg.

Her hand felt so warm, so good, as my first orgasm continued its lengthy, all nerve hitting euphoria.

I just sat there, allowing the egg inside me to do all the work, as the buzzing kept the pleasure going. As my first orgasm finally died away, a second was rising.

"You're going to do whatever I tell you, right my little slut?" Laura asked, her hand moving up my thigh at a snail's pace with intriguing intent.

"Yes, yes, yes," I answered.

The first yes because the pleasure was making it impossible to think straight.

The second yes because the idea of being a submissive slut who just obeys without hesitation is my greatest fantasy.

The third yes because the thought of being Laura's pet was the cherry on the cake of submission.

"What if I made you fuck yourself right here with the coke bottle in your bag?" she asked.

The idea of something pumping in and out of my burning inferno was intense and I responded, "I'd do it, Mistress.

"What if I wanted to shove a butt plug up that arse of yours?" she continued, her hand now under my sorry excuse for a skirt.

Recalling this line in a few stories I'd read on Literotica, I responded with a moan, loving having my arse filled, "All three of my holes are for you to do whatever you want."

"What if I make you eat out Angela over there?" she pushed the envelope, her fingers touching my pussy lips, making me moan loudly.

So horny, so curious, so obedient, I agreed, the idea of finally eating pussy and fulfilling that fantasy a sudden possibility, however small, "I would eat her if you gave the order and she was willing."

And as she rubbed my clit, my second orgasm in as many minutes growing rapidly at the triple pleasure: the egg inside, the fingers on my clit and the naughty verbal mind games.

Then the climactic question. Her fingers now tugging on my clit, she asked, "And if I ordered you to munch on my own snatch?"