Dirty Flight Attendants Pt. 03

Now Maryam is by the side of the passenger who has the light on, and he says to her that he has something to show her. He says he has something special just for her. She bends down a little to hear him better, because of the enormous engine hum, and as she bends down her knees bend too, touching each other and making these beige-colored wrinkles in the stockings in the back of her knees.

She begs him pardon and asks what she may do for him.

The man is sitting rather relaxed, looks at the flight attendant with a funny look. Then his hands reach down and fiddle at something. It's kind of dark but Maryam understands almost instantly. He is unzipping his jeans. Fear creeps up her spine, but her instinct to flight kicks in a little too late; she tries to flee but finds her wrist in his iron grasp. He drags her down; before her face again is another erect penis. This is starting to feel like a never-ending nightmare. Maryam's mouth opens but she can't scream somehow, can't even speak, her voice deprived by a great hush that falls around her in the cabin. In the dark many men are looking at her, rising a little from their seats to get a better view.

With the other hand the man presses Maryam's head down, her opened mouth right on his cock. He leaves her that way for a good minute and half, just sticking his thumb under her hijab and feeling her hair beneath. He is quite a mouthful and reaches a considerable depth. Her throat contracts around him several times as her gag reflex kicks in repeatedly. Round his lower shaft lays her tongue makes timid, almost imperceptible movements. She is getting used to doing this, sucking strangers' cocks.

While Maryam is half standing, half squatting this way on her slippery heels, and all the others watching from the dark around her, the man suddenly grabs her head tight and comes in her mouth and shoots all his hot loads down her throat. The flight attendant receives it without any struggle, even sucking a little. Her left hand has unwittingly found its way into her molester's palm and her fingers are interlaced with his and locked in a tight intimate embrace. In the process her silver wedding band is obscured by the man's hairy fingers.

Behind her someone starts to inspect her feet, her calves, her thighs and what else that might be hidden up her skirt. A little farther someone is watching a Hollywood spy movie on his little screen. Still a little farther a man is listening to his cozy music and unconcerned about the vile business going in his cabin.

Pull it up a little bit more. There, there! Now it's all up her waist. Look at her round fat ass! Ladies and gentlemen. For thirteen years we've been hunting this man, this rogue agent. He's like a nameless shadow, always around us, but when we turn around it's gone and behind us again. On our files Ethan Carter was dead thirteen years ago, but we all know that's not true. That man can't be killed. Now, are you all seeing what I'm seeing? Your eyes fail you not, son. I see it too. Then what they're saying is true, and this one is no different. Every word of it, son. Every word of it.

There's a whisper in the breeze, remind me of Tennessee, oh Tennessee! That whisper calls, that whisper cries, take me back to Tennessee! Oh sweet home, oh sweet home, I will never leave again my sweet home. Now I am older and I am wiser and I've met a girl and then lost her, the city folks with their fancy lives no longer got a hold on me. All of them are whores, don't you forget that, son. Right, right, she ain't got a single hair down there. Shaved cleaner than a hooker. I know why, every one of them women here shave. Very hot in their country.

One sweats more. Women too. Especially down there. Have to shave thoroughly. Look at these brown fat lips, and already wet. The only time, son, when the used is better than the new. And this one is used good. Wait did he just nut in her mouth? I'm...sorry for your loss. It's okay. I've known her for a long time. She knew what she signed up for. So what's next? Every nation on earth is hunting you right now. No, they're hunting us. You're one of us now. From now on as much as the official records are concerned, you don't exist anymore. You're a ghost and that's what you'll be, if you wish to stay alive. Dude didn't last more than a minute. That he did. Ain't no his fault. Had a good run for his money.

Not best, but not worst either. Then I might as well try my luck. Don't see why not, son. Yonder is the lavatory. Get her there. Nut her a good one. God. Look at this pair of legs! She won't see this coming. Do you really think she can pull it off, Ethan? I trust her to do her job. But what if she betrays us? She's a thief, remember? You're right. She has a very good reason to sell us out to the CIA. But she also has a better reason not to. And what might that be, my old friend? Guilt. She got Luisa killed back in Milan.

And if she betrays us, if she betrays this cause, then her sister's death would be in vain. I know she's better than that. I'm gonna show her a good time, I'll make her beg. You better. This one still fertile. For another few years. Make her a little bastard. Get her while she's still clean. Won't be long till she's all a-loose, that is, if she ain't already. That whisper calls, that whisper cries, take me back to Tennessee! Oh sweet home, oh sweet home, I will never leave again my sweet home Tennessee.

- 8 -

Maryam is in the lavatory again. She's been there many times tonight. She's been used thoroughly and is now quite cooperative. Once someone is done with her and let her leave the lavatory she wanders around, absent-minded, struggling with her stilettos and a sore lower body. One just needs to wait for his turn. Wait until she stumbles past near your seat and gently grab her arm. Take her to an empty lavatory and she will follow you like a lamb.

They have had their fun with her. Don't worry, they say, we're keeping watch, making sure none of your girls comes this way. They'd hate to see their purser like this. Hate to see her come like this. Sure she don't want no friend of hers to see her right now.

For she don't look too hot right now. Only half of her makeup still intact. All her clothing are undone. Jacket and blouse long gone. Her panties and bras became someone's private collection. Brown tits hanging loose with prominent hard nipples. Skirt rolled up around her waist above her garter belt. Her stockings no longer suspended by the garter belt but rolled down to around her knees. A long trail of body fluid ran down her smooth inner thighs.

And her stilettos they made sure to pay special attention to. They would take them off her feet and inspect the wet insoles. If they are not as wet as one would like then whoever is with her then is obliged to spray his seed in there and make them wet again. They want her designer heels ruined forever. Want her stockinged feet to stay soaked in semen all the time, a whore's pedicure.

But the hijab they won't take off from her head. That stays on. They ask her to redo it every time they're done with her. Make it so tight that not a strand of her hair escapes from it. A reminder, they say, of who she is, of what they are, and a contrast that turns them on constantly. It is the whole point, her hijab.

Now Maryam is in the lavatory with two black men.

The flight attendant is already quite loose in her cunt, but not so much in the other hole. In fact no one has really entered it until now. Some might have licked around it or poked a finger or two in but none has used her asshole properly as it's meant to be. All of them cowards who are afraid of contracting something dirty down there. But not these two gentlemen. For they come prepared and equipped with condoms. They are very considerate, these gentlemen. Used half a bottle of sport cologne on her so the stewardess won't be embarrassed by the faint smell of her own shit.

They even let her play with their penises beforehand so she won't be half as scared when they enter her. She fiddles with them, two long black monsters hanging between their masters' iron thighs, curved like bananas and only half encased by the yellow rubbers. She feels the bold veins on them. She fiddles with them until her arms grow sore. Then she spits and runs her sweet saliva over her new toys with her hands and fiddles some more. She's a talented woman and has learned quick about these things.

The lavatory is a tight space so the trio have to innovate. Tried a few ways that don't really work but at length they have her in a position to be penetrated both at once. Her stilettos are discarded in a corner. Now one of her little feet is on tiptoe stepping on top of the black man's feet while her other foot is stretched high onto the second man's shoulder, and her hands clinging on to the man behind around his neck trying to balance herself. She stands very close to them, her tits pressed on the man's chest, her soft brown buttocks pushing back at the firm dark groins behind.

In this acrobatic arrangement they make love to her. Her inner thigh muscles are almost torn at such an angle. She is fairly tall for a woman but they are taller, and she struggles in her tiptoe to maintain the proper height. Her behind is flaming with pain while her front is engulfed in pleasure. They are at it slowly at first but soon they pick up pace. With every pulling out her inner labia follows and grips a long way out and so does her anus. They are delighted with her body.

Forehead beaded with sweat and hijab coming loose, she moans and pleads, that they are going to break her. But they knew she's just lying. All women lie, and when they say less they actually want more, when they say too deep they actually need it deeper. Only when she says she's about to come you start getting real with her. You make sure to treat these honorable wives like whores and real whores worse than the cheapest slut from a dirty third-world slum. Yes, they have dealt with many women at her age. They can never have enough and are always being dramatic. So they make sure to break her completely until she begs them to do it again, all over again.

- 9 -

It's midnight and the flight is halfway through. They are almost ready to launch the full-scale invasion on the rest of the crew. The purser, they say, is nearly conquered. They could've done it without her words but they want her to say it. They want her consent to turn this into a mid-air harem. It's all part of the kink, hearing the purser herself giving out the order to her crew to start sucking every cock in the cabin. Thus impatiently they have been waiting for her to arrive at that point, though their patience is running thin.

Meanwhile Maryam is still being fucked in the lavatory, this time by a regular Joe, her opened legs facing the plastic toilet and her hands pressed against the wall. They fuck for five minutes straight, when suddenly and predictably she stiffens a little, her eyes lowers to look at her own cunt, the orgasm arrives deep and profound like underwater waves reverberating across her frail body. The man watches as another spurt of the flight attendant's hot urine lands in the toilet. A secret contest is on to see who can make her pee with the highest precision. And how frustrating it is that women just can't pee straight! He teaches her how to clutch her hips and bring her lower body forward but she still spills a lot of it outside the bowl. She can't stand steadily enough in her famously slippery stilettos. Grudgingly he comes inside the purser's warm vagina and returns to his seat.

She stands over the toilet agonizing over her poor performance, her heel tips drenched in spilled urine on the floor, her cunt slowly leaking a white man's semen. She must've had a hundred orgasm tonight now, and each cycle is never entirely spent but builds up in her body, and now she is near the breakpoint, the final line which once crossed she will never be the same again. Pieces of her individuality is already fading off and soon she will loose all her dignity and be reduced to a mere plaything for the ruthless fetishists. One more crisis and her whole being will be undone.

Part of her still knows what's right from wrong. Think of your family, your children. Think of what you have accomplished all these years to get here. This is not who you are, Maryam. You can stop this madness right now. Put up a fight, escape this hellhole and get help from your crew. But how? They will see me like this, with burning cheeks and lust written in my eyes, with stockings rolled down to my knees. I can't even stop coming. No, they won't pity me, but only despise me, as their purser and an older woman who's supposed to act like their role model. But I have failed them.

There's no more carnal sin left for me to commit! She says to herself bitterly. She has been penetrated where she never thought possible. She has done things with her mouth that would even make a hooker blush. I am no longer a mother, a wife, or a woman of faith. I have let them make a whore out of me, and that's what I'll be for the rest of my life.

Unless I make a bargain with the devil. A desperate and futile plan, yet it is the only one she has. She has made up her mind. With that, Maryam slowly takes down her veil, unpins the hair, and let her raven locks cascade freely down her bare shoulder.

When she comes out from the lavatory many are greatly amazed. Some show signs of disgust while others are thrilled. Look the whore has finally given up! Where has her hijab gone? Probably stuck somewhere up her ass! We all love your milf ass you hear? Look the way she walks. Look how her fat ass sways around. Isn't she walking like a fashion model down this aisle? You having trouble with your heels my milf stewardess? Damn I'm gonna take that pair of stockings home and sniff at them twice a day! This one is currently in my top 3 favorite of all the stewardess sluts I've had screwed. But where is she going? Come here and serve your ass on our cocks. Wait, there she stops. Looks like the whore wants to say something. Guys! Quiet guys. Everybody just shut up now. The purser is making an announcement. What a lovely idea. Why don't we give it a shot, hear what she's got to say.

There Maryam stands in the middle of the left aisle, defiant and glorious in her nudity. On her stilettos her figure towers over the sitting men and is rather awe-inspiring. They all look confused by this sudden change in their prey. On her sweaty and slippery body are dried-up evidence of their conquest but she is fearless, not ashamed. Her dark eyes are wild and with what no one can say precisely.

Now, says Maryam, my time has come, my hour has come. My fate hangs in the balance and needs to be determined. The conflict of our story needs to be resolved. One way or another, this show must go on. You the audience suffers in your waiting. Yet to be or not to be is a question I cannot afford to ask.

I am a wife of an handsome honest man and a mother of two cutest children in the world. I have lived the 42 years of my life with little regret. When young I chased my dream in Europe, spent the sleepless nights in cabins like this. I have watched the city lights along the Thames, the moonlight shinning on the snow of the Alps. I have counted the bridges on the blue Bosporus. Then I married and had kids. Years of family life melted away like sands through my fingers. But I have no regret. Then I come back to my own country for a better career opportunity, leading an entire crew on their first mission. I thought I'm always protected by blessings but now I see that's not true. Now I am corrupted by all of you and become an element of your vice. None of this would happen if I stayed home. Still I repent nothing. I made my own choices and will pay for the price.

Now, I know what you will do to my crew. That I cannot allow. They are innocent. They are like my own children. You have had your fun with me. You still can have me. Let us make a deal. I know how much you like to watch me come undone. I will give my body entirely to you. You can do whatever you like with me. I am no virgin, and you have all taught me quite a lot more vices tonight. If by the end of it I do not suffer another crisis, then you leave my crew alone.

But if I do, she says, then I will give up my responsibility as the purser and surrender my crew to you.

Do we have a deal? She turns around to search in these men's eyes for an answer. A bearded man stands up to her, a representative. He speaks in a rough low voice.

We will take them wherever they are, wherever we find them. And since they are all young and inexperienced we will train them extra hard. A lotta harder than what you've had so far. Do you understand what that means, purser?

I do. Her answer is quiet but firm. For one moment everything freezes, nothing moves in her sight. Then she watches them rushing towards her like hungry beasts and taking her down to the very end of the cabin. Soon her moans and their laughters and the sound of sex organs colliding can be heard from behind the closed curtains.

- 10 -

I was so close to success. I sucked, I rode, I've been under many a man's weight and let them empty their dirty loads inside me. They were down to their last numbers. Another five or six and I would've defeated them. My own willpower was running low too, I was trying so hard not to come, and I had succeeded thus far. Just a few more rounds, and I would have won.

But all it took was one more well-placed thrust, right on my G-spot, the last straw no my weary and exhausted body, to break through my entire defense. And like a bolt of lightning the orgasm hit me and paralyzed my body. I was undone.

They watched me all in hideous grins as my pee came shamefully out because they knew they had won.

I was defeated.

And I needed to uphold my end of the bargain.

I saw you many times since our training began. Every one of you in my crew. But what am I saying? My crew is no more: now we are just pets of our masters' lust. They gave us leather chokers to wear, along with the chains. They have also given the hijabs back to us, but now it's different, it no longer means what it used to mean. They cover us so that they can desire more from us.

The chain on my neck will not let go now. Its command passes from one man to another, but heaven forbid for a moment I am left alone, on my own, unsupervised. We are whores, and like whores we should be treated, with no care nor attention to our self-esteem. We shall crawl on fours and relieve ourselves in the litter they have prepared for us. Such perversities feed us and turn us on.

But I have seen all of you. Even as my senses have become unreliable I am still me, your old purser. You were next to me when we knelt and sucked and swallowed all that down our throats. We drank their yellow waste which still tasted like beer and later they also made us drink our own. Through all that you were next to me, our hands clutched together.

I saw you again in a breeding party in the middle of the cabin. As they released these sweet burning male seeds inside my vagina, I sensed one of you not far from me, perhaps a few feet away, your legs also around some man's sweaty back and your young feet up in the air, dangling, shaking with every one of his pounding. I cried for you in my heart, tears of joy from one mother to another mother-to-be.

The last time I saw you was at the end of the cabin, where I once faced them all and was defeated so humiliatingly. There a special show was held, I again the main subject, to exhibit the maximum potential of the female sex. Three men were using my two holes at the same time and I was on the verge of fainting from pain and thrill, while my screaming mouth was also silenced by another fan of mine. I thought I was gone forever, but then I noticed one of you, not far from me. You were to be the next, after me, my successor, inheritor of my plight. At that I sobered up and endured through, to make myself as best an example as I could for you all.