tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersHostess with the Mostest Ch. 05

Hostess with the Mostest Ch. 05

byMicheleNylons©

Chapter Five - Cruella DeVille

The slim genteel lady was dressed in a navy blue stewardesses uniform. Her form-fitting jacket had gold piping along the lapels and cuffs and a pair of gold wings clipped to her right breast. Her shapely legs were clad in gossamer black stockings and her feet shod in four-inch black patent leather high heels. She had perfectly coiffed black, shoulder-length hair. Her face was too angular to be called 'pretty' but she was undoubtedly attractive and cultivated. She exuded elegance.

"I am Megan DeVille, Senior Flight Attendant for Goldwing Airlines, chairman of the flight steward selection committee and chief training officer," she announced officiously.

Having seen what had happened to the four 'smokers' the remaining sixteen paid complete attention to her.

"I was an airline hostess when we were treated like starlets. We would walk through the terminal with our heads held high, knowing that everybody was staring at us."

"Going on an airplane used to be a special event. It was a time when air travel was a more rarefied experience than it is today, even on routine flights I would pass out roses to women passengers and serve seven course meals on fine china and linen tablecloths."

"We had a saying back then: Marriage is fine but shouldn't you see the world first? Most of my alumni married pilots; even the less fortunate ones married flight engineers," she looked down her nose at the suggestion of marrying a flight engineer.

"But that was then; a more refined world, when air travel was for the privileged."

"Now it's like a greyhound bus; some of the male passengers don't even wear suits!"

"Well it might me 1975 but this is Goldwing Airlines and we have standards! That's why we take less than five percent of applicants. It is easier to get into Cambridge than it is to serve martinis over the Atlantic on one of our airplanes."

The two men wearing business suits sitting at the side of the stage rolled their eyes. They had obviously heard this story countless times.

"Anyway welcome," she said without the slightest hint of hospitality in her voice.

She removed the cigarette from its holder and stubbed it out in a glass ashtray on the lectern.

"The gentleman behind me will collect your credentials. That's your letters of recommendation, your references and passports," she looked at the audience as if they were imbeciles.

"Mr Dennis Caputo," she turned and nodded to one of the besuited gentry.

"Mr Caputo will peruse your documents to ensure they are in order and rank them in order of merit."

Mr Caputo arose and appeared to be very glad that his part in the performance was over.

A hand shot up in the audience and Megan winced; visibly displeased.

"Yes?" she asked corrosively.

The pretty young woman was dressed similarly to Candi in a dark business suit but with her hair coiffured reminiscent of the nineteen forties, blushed deep red.

"What if you don't have a passport? I mean I have applied for one but it hasn't arrived yet," she said entreatingly.

"So you want the best job in the whole world; flying around the globe in a Goldwing Airlines airplane and you don't have passport! Silly girl!" Megan's bright-red thin lips twisted into a scowl.

"You can leave now! That's all." she waved her hand at the door.

The girl began to sob.

"But it's in the post! They said it's in the post!" the girl heaved.

"That's all." Megan reiterated emotionlessly.

Mr Caputo walked between the rows of dwindling candidates and collected documents. Candi handed him her valise and noiselessly mouthed 'thank you' and smiled anxiously at him. He smiled back and mouthed 'good luck'.

"Well that reduces us to fifteen," Ms DeVille seemed very happy with the outcome.

"As I wrote to you all, final selections for the ten vacant positions will be made today."

"First off Mr Brown will conduct individual I.Q. and psychological tests," the other portly man in the suit sitting on the stage nodded his head.

"You will all also undergo a pregnancy test and then we will break for lunch."

"Final selections will be announced this afternoon, after your poise, charm, decorum, ability as a conversationalist, and friendliness have been appraised."

"I should warn you that you have been under assessment since you arrived this morning and will be continually assessed until those selected few pass out of the Goldwing Airlines Flight Attendant Training Academy."

When Megan DeVille announced the pregnancy test Candi blanched.

"Fuck!" she whispered to herself.

It seemed like every time she thought she had overcome adversity, another obstacle popped up.

The remaining fifteen were divided into three groups of five. The pretty, wide-eyed girl the others had nicknamed Little Bo Peep, two other ladies and one of the elegantly dressed young men were in Candi's group.

They were told they would wait together to be interviewed and led to a small room where there was a coffee pot, cream, sugar, cups, saucers and napkins laid out on a table. There were six armchairs and two small occasional tables with crystal ashtrays. The two other girls and the man dropped into chairs. Candi approached 'Bo Beep'.

"I'm Candace but my friends call me Candi," she smiled.

"Hi. I'm Millicent. Millie," the pretty girl smiled back with a pronounced Cockney accent.

"Ok Millie, come help me pour coffee," Candi said.

Candi and Millie poured coffee for the other three, offering cream and sugar and then they poured a cup each for themselves and handed out napkins. One of the other girls was summoned and the remaining four sat down to chat. Candi demurely crossed her ankles and sipped cautiously at her hot coffee.

The man offered Candi a cigarette which she took and smiled at him when he lit it for her.

"Peter Snodgrass," he introduced himself with a confident smile.

"I'm Candace Pops and this is Millie," Candi indicated her new found friend.

"Millicent Walker," the girl grinned.

"And you are?" Candi smiled at the other girl.

"Porsche Berkinsdale. Of the Surrey Berkinsdale's," she looked pompously at the others and sipped her coffee.

"So what do you think of Megan DeVille?" she asked.

"You know they call her Cruella DeVil behind her back," Peter Snodgrass grinned.

Porsche nearly choked on her coffee and spat it back in the cup. She guffawed.

"Oh that is so deliciously wicked!" she smirked.

"She's an icon at Goldwing. Been here thirty years, started out as a hostess at seventeen and has never married. When she got too old to fly she took over recruitment and the Flight Attendant Training Academy," Peter explained.

"You seem to know an awful lot about her," Millie looked astonished.

"Yes. Well. One needs to know everything about one's adversary. Only ten percent of stewards are male and as only five out every one hundred applicants are accepted for training I need every advantage I can get," he sniffed.

Candi blushed a deep red. She knew the odds better than Peter did and now she felt like she was here under false pretences; which she actually was.

They were called into Mr Brown's office one at a time for the I.Q. and psychological tests. Candi found the tests to be quite easy and Mr Brown to be very dour indeed. In her short existence as Candi, she had found that men generally saw her a sex object and usually only wanted one thing but Mr Brown was all business.

"He's a cold fish," the other girl, who turned out to be named Mandy McDonald, said.

"I leaned over half a dozen times with my blouse opened to the second button and he didn't even check out my tits. I let my skirt ride up and dropped my pencil twice so he could look at my knickers and he didn't bat an eyelid!" she complained.

"He quizzes a couple of hundred bimbos a year looking to be flight stewards. How many of them do you think have offered him sex to get a job? And the dopey thing is he doesn't get a say; all he does is mark and grade papers. Cruella decides who goes and who stays," Peter responded.

"Who the fuck is Cruella then?" Mandy asked in her Welsh accent.

"Candi, Millie, Porsche and Peter all laughed.

The band of fifteen candidates were bought back together in the conference room where they were asked to be seated. They were hungry by now and their hunger was piqued by an assortment of hot and cold snacks laid out at the back of the room along with bottles of wine, beer and soft drinks.

"Don't worry. We shall soon be having lunch but before we do I invite the ladies to take one of the little jars over there, write your name on it please and provide a sample. There is a tray in the ladies room on which you are to leave your samples."

"Of course I don't need to tell you to wash your hands before you return for lunch," she reviled the girls as they filed out of the conference room with their little jars.

The two male applicants waited patiently as the women went to give their samples.

Candi blanched. She didn't know what procedure the airline used for pregnancy testing, but she was terrified that when her urine was tested it would reveal she was male. She hung back pretending to be bashful until there was only herself and Millie left in the ladies.

She started to shake and cry.

Millie came over and fussed over her.

"You aren't preggers are you; surely?" she patted Candi on the arm.

"No it's worse!" Candi cried.

"There's nothing worse than preggers honey. Unless of course the fathers is...well let's not go there," Millie paled.

Candi shook her head vehemently

"Drugs? You're not doing drugs are you? I heard they test for drugs too," Millie said.

Candi stopped crying and smiled to herself.

"Yes honey it's drugs. Nothing heavy but my boyfriend made me smoke some pot last week. I hated it but he said he'd leave me if I didn't 'get hip and get high' with him," Candi lied.

"You know what. You were really nice to me when I first arrived here and you've been nice ever since. I saw the condescending looks of all those other girls and hear their smug comments about my poodle skirt. Well fuck em!"

Millie snatched Candi's sample bottle from her and darted into a cubicle. A minute later Candi heard a flush and the door opened and Millie handed Candi her bottle full of pale yellow liquid. They both deposited their samples in the tray provided.

As they were about to leave Candi pulled Millie into her arms, hugged her and kissed her cheek.

"Thank you darling," she whispered into Millie's ear.

"You're welcome Candi. Are we friends now?" she beamed.

Candi comprehended right then that Millie was alone and likely friendless. Her pretty, sweet, wide-eyed demeanour hid a girl who was lonely, unpretentious, and probably poor. In the harsh light of the restroom Candi could see that Millie's poodle skirt, likely the best thing she owned but totally inappropriate for the occasion, was frayed at the hem and a little faded. Her blouse was the same and she noticed that Millie's shoes were a little too big, presumably hand-me-downs or second-hand, and one stocking had an almost invisible repair near her ankle.

"Yes we are friends," she squeezed Millie affectionately and then let her go.

"Come on; let's get some lunch," Candi smiled.

"I'm starving!" Millie giggled, but Candi thought she might have meant it literally.

"Ah! The prodigal daughters return," Megan DeVille smiled at her own joke.

"Please partake of lunch; provided today care of Goldwing catering," Megan gestured towards the buffet.

Candi could see the hunger in Millie's eyes and saw that she was about pounce on the buffet.

Candi caught her wrist and held her back.

"Wait! Follow me," she whispered.

Most of the other candidates were crowded around the buffet trying to load their plates.

Candi led Millie behind the buffet table.

"You take the drinks and I'll serve the food," she instructed.

Candi took the utensils away from the hungry diners and served them singly but promptly, making them individual plates of what they fancied.

Millie poured glasses of wine, beer and pop ensuring each beverage was poured into the correct glass and handing the drinks out with a napkin and providing ice to those who wanted it.

When the line to the banquet had dissipated, Candi made up four plates of food and put them on a tray. She nodded at Millie who put an assortment of drinks on a silver tray and followed Candi over to where Megan DeVille sat with the two portly men in business suits and offered them a selection, starting with Megan.

Megan looked intently at Candi and then gave her the faintest nod of approval and took the smallest meal being offered and a glass of champagne from Millie. Candi took the last plate of food over to Peter Snodgrass who had sat back to watch the others attack the buffet.

"Bravo and touche," he gave Candi a mirthless smile.

Candi and Millie went back to the buffet and put their trays down.

"Look; I know you're probably starving but remember what Megan DeVille said about being constantly assessed. Just take a small plate ok?" Candi said to Millie.

Millie looked regretfully at the banquet and then took a side plate on which she put a small selection of cold cuts as did Candi. They both poured a glass of water.

"Ok now we join the others; we make small talk and we smile. We smile and we pay complete attention to what they are saying," Candi instructed.

"Even if they are arseholes," Candi whispered and Millie giggled.

Candi and Millie sat down in the small group that had gathered around Megan DeVille and the two portly assistants. They were making small talk amongst themselves but Candi noticed Megan said very little and seemed to be appraising her charges.

The conversation seemed to be led by a gorgeous and confident twenty-something wearing a Versace skirt and blouse combo, Manolo Blahnik high heels and fifteen denier fashion hosiery. Her name was Christina Christensen and she obviously came from a very wealthy family.

She waved her long-stemmed glass of champagne around as she spoke like she was to the manor born.

"...and so I told mummy, I could get a job as a hostie any time I wanted and support myself," she smugly finished a story she had been telling.

"Wow is that a Gucci handbag?" Millie pointed to the expensive bag under Christina's seat.

Christina looked annoyed.

"Oh my god are you really wearing a poodle skirt? Is there going to be a sock-hop or a hoedown or something after?' Christina contemptuously replied.

Everyone could tell that Millie was hurt but she kept smiling. Some of the others grinned; to them it was fun to see a vulture tear into a lamb.

"It's the best dress I have I'm sorry. When I got selected for the audition I just put on my best but yes I suppose it isn't really appropriate. I love what your wearing though Christina," Millie replied, smiling her sweet smile.

"I prefer those that don't know me to call me Miss Christensen," she snapped.

"Oh I don't know. I think anyone who has the gumption to wear a poodle dress today, and carry it off as well as Millicent does, deserves to be praised not ridiculed," Candi chipped in.

"Yes I suppose there is gumption in wearing something, well, shall we say retro rather than old fashioned, unlike someone who turns up wearing a cheap business suit they bought off the rack in a department store," Christina snapped back.

Candi blushed but inside she was seething.

"And oh my! Is that a Timex!" Christina pointed to Millie's rectangular chrome watch with Roman numerals and black leather band.

Millie was such a sweet thing that she didn't realise she was about to be ridiculed.

"Well mine's just a crappy Patek Philippe. I wish I had something with character like yours," Christina teased.

A few of the other girls were smirking; taking pleasure in watching Millie being made fun of while she didn't even know it.

"Oh it's a family heirloom; my mother got it from her mother and she gave it to me to wear today for luck," Millie said proudly.

"So you came dressed in jumble sale clothes, wearing a cheap hand-me-down watch and darned stockings, hoping to become an airline stewardess?" Christina said contemptuously.

Millie's smile faltered only momentarily but it broke Candi's heart when she saw that one second of pain. She saw Millie's big blue wide eye's water but her smile didn't waver.

"I guess I just did the best I could Miss Christensen; I have to say you look beautiful today and I bet you will be selected as a stewardess for sure," Millie smiled.

"You bet your mother's cheap watch I will," Christina snickered.

A single tear ran down Millie's cheek but she quickly brushed it away hoping no one would notice.

"May I take your plate and glass Miss Christensen?" Millie asked.

Christina held out her dirty plate and turned away from Millie like she was some kind of hired help and began to talk to one of the other girls. Inside, Candi's anger turned to fury.

"No Millie; I'll get it!" Candi hissed.

Candi leapt from her chair and took Christina's plate and promptly dropped it in her lap.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," Candi said whilst wiping at Christina's blouse deliberately rubbing the mess into the fabric.

"Get away from me you harpy! You fucking cheap slut in a cheap suit!" Christina screamed.

Megan DeVille arose.

"Enough! I've seen enough! As if someone like you could ever be a Goldwing girl!" Megan roared.

She pointed at the glass doors to the conference room.

"That's all; goodbye."

Candi hung her head. She had come so far and had let this stuck-up bitch get under skin. Maybe she didn't deserve to be an airline steward. She slowly walked to the back of the room to get her coat.

"Where are you going Miss Pops?" Megan inquired.

Candi turned around and saw the look of delight on Christian Christensen's face turn to disappointment when Megan's manicured, red-nailed, finger pointed at her.

"You! You privileged popinjay! You're the harpy. You leave!"

Christina's mouth worked but no sound came out.

"That's all; goodbye," Megan said and turned her back on Christina.

"Right ladies and gentleman. Please put away your plates, you may take another drink should you wish but please be seated for the last session of the day," she announced.

The remaining fourteen cleaned away their plates and took their seats; some with glasses of wine, Candi and Millie took coffee. Megan DeVille and her two besuited squires took their places on the stage.

"Millicent Walker and Candace Pops please stand," Megan began without ceremony

They both stood expecting that now they would be dismissed

"You will no longer be part of the selection process," Megan announced.

Millie and Candi dropped their heads.

"You are already selected," she smiled.

"Candace Pops I noticed that you welcomed Miss Walker when she arrived as soon as you noticed that she was nervous. You both served coffee to your peers whilst waiting for your interviews and then graciously served behind the banquet and tended to the staff. You have both been polite and showed decorum even when you were being insulted."

"That's a Goldwing flight steward through and through," she concluded.

"Please take a seat to the side of the stage please."

During the lunch break ten chairs had been set up on the side of the stage and the podium had been cleared away.

"Also, Miss Julie Newbury... congratulations; it's going to be a boy. That's all; goodbye," Julie blushed a bright red and hurried out of the room.

"So! Only three to get rid of," Megan quipped.

"Mister Johnson?" the other male candidate beside Peter Snodgrass got to his feet.

"Your credentials are impeccable. They are also counterfeit. That's all; goodbye," and Mister Johnson left, looking more than a little guilty.

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