No Accounting For Chaos Ch. 12

When he told her not to worry about packing, "...we can get whatever you need over there..." she wasn't sure whether that meant 'Don't pack anything at all,' or just pack the minimum she would feel comfortable with. She decided to put a few toiletries she couldn't do without into a small carry-on and hoped that would be right.

The buzzer rang. "Ms. Adams? We're ready when you are." She took a last look around, making sure all of the lights were off, closed and locked the door. The act seemed symbolic. This wouldn't be the last time she left her place, but she felt a sense of finality about it. Squaring her shoulders she walked down the hall to the elevators thinking about where this new chapter in her life was leading.

The town car waiting for her at the curb wasn't a stretch, but its spit and polish advertised something more personal than a commercial car service. The driver took her bag and opened the door for her; she slipped in next to Monty.

"Good morning," he leaned over and kissed her.

She smiled at him a little nervously. "Hi. India. Wow." The enormity of the trip was settling in on her. Three weeks in India. A ceremonial preparation for their wedding. He had given her little indication of what was involved, but his first instructions to her this week were discomfiting: no meat, and no shaving.

He stroked her thigh as they drove to the airport, and apologized for having to do a little work. While he browsed his laptop she looked out the window at the familiar landscape. How many times had she made this drive to fly somewhere? How would it look in two weeks when she came back? Would she see it differently after their marriage?

Marriage. It was only the first part of their ceremony – the 'spiritual consummation' as he put it. She still hadn't finalized their "personal" wedding, as she came to call it, but as long as they did this thing first, he was open to whatever she had in mind.

She was a little confused when the driver took a different turn from the route she usually took. Curious, she paid greater attention to where they were heading and realized she had never been to this part of the airport before.

"Private jet. One of the privileges of being filthy rich." He smiled as her eyes grew.

The car drove up to a small jet. From the outside there appeared to be at least 10 windows; she calculated it would seat 20 very comfortably and wondered who else was coming with them.

He led the way up the stairs, greeting a young flight attendant at the door.

"Mahitha, meet Marcie. Marcie...Mahitha." He stepped inside to let her enter.

She shook the woman's hand, momentarily stopped by her beauty. Her skin was a deep brown with red tones, her eyes a dark chocolate brown. Mahitha smiled broadly and took the bag.

"Pleased to meet you Marcie. Congratulations." Her smile was infectious, her accent amazing. Marcie felt her odyssey had already begun and they hadn't left the ground yet. "You may hang your clothes in this closet here." Mahitha pointed to a large walk-in closet just inside the door.

Marcie was sure she'd misheard and looked around. The three of them were standing in a small room sealed off from the front and rear of the plane with the closet off to one side and what she assumed to be a bathroom door just next to it. She saw that Monty had already begun to remove his jacket and tie, hanging them in the closet. She looked back at Mahitha and raised her eyebrows to confirm she'd heard correctly.

Mahitha looked at Monty, equally confused.

"Ah...sorry. Mahitha, here it is." He handed the attendant a small package wrapped in cloth and tied with a bow.

Mahitha took the package and offered it to Marcie. "Please, if you could remove your clothes and put this on...."

Marcie looked at Monty again, hoping for some kind of reassurance. He had removed his shirt and was unbuckling his belt, apparently unconcerned about being undressed in front of this woman. He looked up to see her confusion. "It's all good. We are entering sacred space." He said it as if they were on the steps of a temple. "We have to leave our street clothes behind. Mahitha is here to help."

She had no idea what any of that meant, but his tone was clear. She took the package and untied the bow, peeling back the wrapping. Inside was a small thong of leather, with a confusing jumble of strands, each about the thickness of her pinky finger. She held it up to decipher what it was supposed to be. It was obvious that it was meant to wrap around her in some way, but she couldn't figure it out.

"It's okay," Mahitha said comfortingly, "I'll help you with that. Please, let me take your clothes."

Marcie handed the thong back to the young woman and hesitantly reached for a hanger. Monty was already naked and had selected a kaftan from the closet, slipping it over his head. It was almost identical to the one he wore at his house, with the exception of additional gold piping around the hem and neck.

Marcie realized there was no question about what was expected of her. As Mahitha busied herself closing the exit door, she hung up her jacket, unsnapped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Monty watched her as she unbuttoned her blouse and hung it up. Standing in her bra, panties and stockings, her fiancé staring at her she felt herself becoming aroused. No! It can't be. He can't want me to be turned on by this!

Mahitha had returned, and she too stood watching passively as Marcie stripped. She reached behind her to unsnap her bra, blushing at being the subject of their attention. Mahitha took her bra and hung it up, waiting for her stockings and underwear. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and stripped the remaining clothes off, standing up to reveal herself to the two of them.

Mahitha gathered her clothes from the floor and placed them in a small bin in the closet. Monty leaned against the closet door jamb watching her, making her feel more naked than she had ever felt before. She felt more exposed than any time she had undressed in front of strangers. Having her fiancé watching her strip in front of a beautiful young woman; to be the only one undressed in such a...clinical...way; to not be drunk or partying...none of it was like anything she'd done before. Even more puzzling was how aroused it made her. Her nipples were hardening and she could feel her lips swelling. She crossed her arms across her ribs waiting.

"I'll see you inside," Monty reached over and gave her a kiss, making her feel even more exposed.

She looked up and saw a look of disapproval flash across Mahitha's face, although she wasn't certain, it passed so quickly. Remember the Indians have different expressions. Monty's warning from weeks before came back to her. Still, she looked down to see what could have caused the woman's judgment and saw her landing strip of pubic hair. The stubble of a week's growth was just beginning to show, casting a bluish black shadow on her otherwise ivory-white skin.

Mahitha had knelt down in front of her, holding the leather thong up to her waist. "We need to get this properly adjusted," she said as if she were fitting a dress. "For the remainder of the flight I will help you with it, whenever you need it. Later there will be others."

Marcie had so many questions she wasn't sure which ones came first. Others? Other thongs? Other people to help her? The remainder of the flight? What else was I going to wear? How many people were behind that door? She began to shake a little at the prospect of what Monty was asking of her. There will be sacrifices, he had warned her. She swallowed and waited.

Mahitha reached behind her pulling a long piece of the leather around her waist. Marcie could feel a piece drop against her cheeks and looked down. The woman was working closely, her face right up against Marcie's mons as her hands moved swiftly to adjust the leather. She spread her legs a little at the woman's direction and she felt the supple leather stretched between her cheeks. She looked down to see the woman's slight fingers pulling it between her legs, feeding it in between her lips and drawing it up to the band at her waist.

As Mahitha pulled and adjusted, Marcie maintained her stance as best she could. The leather was soft but as Mahitha worked it, she realized it would be pressing against her clit, deep inside her slit and the thick muscle between her cunny and her rectum. Even as it felt uncomfortable she could feel her juices begin to slicken it.

"As you moisten it, the leather will loosen slightly," Mahitha reassured her, as if that was Marcie's biggest concern. "I'll re-adjust it in a little bit. There..." the attendant stood up. "Walk a little bit and tell me if it is chafing you."

Marcie felt like...like a cheap slut...was the first thought that came to mind. What was she doing? She walked into the closet and back out, towards the front door and back. The leather moved against her waist, the thin band moving smoothly against her skin. With each step, though, the bands pressing against her cunny and rectum didn't slip at all, but instead each movement sent jolts of arousal into her.

"No...it...feels...nice." She blushed at admitting it to this stranger. Could she already be submitting to Monty's expectations?

"I'm sorry. I should have asked. Do you need to use the restroom? Any time you need to, please ask and I will help you with it."

Marcie took a breath. She hadn't had time to even think about it, but realized the thong was pressing so hard against her parts that there would be no way to go without taking it off. She looked down, running her fingers against the various knots and concluded she couldn't figure out how to take it off, let alone how to put it all back together again. Mahitha had tied some cunning knots. At the thought of using the bathroom she decided she had better pee now.

"Yes. It probably would be better to go now."

Mahitha opened the bathroom door and gestured her in. Once again, Marcie was struck by the differences between this plane and others she'd been in. The bathroom was not the usual tiny closet, though the sink and toilet appeared to be standard issue. In addition there was a shower and a small counter and mirror to sit at.

Mahitha sat at the counter directing Marcie to stand in front of her. In moments she had removed the thong and waited for Marcie to use the toilet.

Apparently Marcie wasn't going to be left alone. She sat down and closed her eyes trying to shut out the other woman's presence. As the flow started and she relaxed, it gushed out of her; she let it continue to a dribble. After wiping herself she stood up and flushed.

Mahitha waited for her to position herself, but didn't immediately reattach the thong. "Why do you do this?" Her question was accompanied by her fingers running lightly over the shaved skin; Marcie felt the stubble under the young woman's touch.

"I...uhhh...I have a lot of hair down there..." she motioned with her fingers unconsciously, looking down at the woman's face. Her expression was clear and non-judgmental, her eyes open and questioning as if she had never seen someone shave before. "Haven't you ever shaved?"

Mahitha smiled and shook her head. "No. It reduces the life force." Leaving the task of retying the thong aside for the moment, the woman stood up and lifted her dress above her waist. Marcie stared in disbelief at several things at once: the amount of hair the woman had incredible! That the woman was naked beneath her dress, and that she so calmly displayed herself to her. Mahitha let her dress drop and reached for Marcie's arms. "Under here too?" She inspected Marcie's underarms to see the beginning of her hair returning.

"You have stunning skin," Mahitha stared at the Marcie's porcelain coloring. "You couldn't be any whiter, could you?" It was said with a sense of marvel, not disdain, and the young woman placed her arm against Marcie's to compare their colors.

The scene was surreal. Marcie couldn't quite shake the feeling of being in a dream. Naked, about to be secured into a leather chastity belt by a young Indian woman who was comparing notes about their skin color and hair removal attitudes. 10 minutes ago Marcie was just a young executive going on an Indian adventure. Now...now she wasn't sure what she was or where she was going.

"Let's get you ready; that was the signal we're preparing to take-off." Mahitha knelt again and quickly retied the thong, if anything, even slightly tighter than before. "Is that okay?"

Marcie nodded, not at all sure if it was okay, but reeling a little from...the whole situation.

Mahitha reached into the cabinet and pulled out a small jar of cream. "Let's get this on now since we're here. You'll need more in a few hours, but this will be good for now." She took a dab on her middle finger and smeared it on the thong where it entered her vagina, working it into the skin there. As she moved her finger in small circles, Marcie felt the vibrations against her clit all the way along the leather to her anus. The white fire immediately licked to the base of her spine and Marcie slowly breathed in, covering her arousal. The woman stopped to get some more on her finger and applied it to Marcie's nipples, again working it in until the cream disappeared. She dabbed her fingers again and reached under Marcie, between her legs to rub the cream into her anus against the leather there. "Tell me if that starts to feel uncomfortable, itchy or any burning, yes?"

She put the jar away and washed her hands, allowing Marcie to do the same.

Mahitha exited from the bathroom and opened the door leading to the rear of the plane. She wasn't sure what to expect: whether a crowd of people were waiting for her to appear or if Monty was sitting alone in one of the rows of seats.

She hadn't expected the scene before her. The entire plane was an open lounge – a kitchenette with bar faced a set of couches and divans, along with a small area enclosed with a curtain she imagined was a bed.

Monty looked up from his computer; he was lounging on a circular couch, the only occupant of the plane aside from the two women.

"Everything a-okay?" He smiled at how beautiful his bride-to-be looked. Her white skin, her nipples bright pink in their light brown targets. He could see even from his distance how aroused she was, the flush to her cheeks, the stiffness of those nipples. He stared at her as she walked into the room, watching the leather thong disappear into her gorgeous yoni. He felt an erection starting and knew this was right. He patted the couch next to him, inviting her to join him.

"Mahitha can make us a little breakfast if you like. Juice? Coffee?"

She sat down on the couch, curling her legs under her trying to take it all in. Whatever Mahitha had applied to her skin, it was starting to tingle...not burning or itching...just a pins and needles kind of tingle. It kindled the white fire, like sparks on dry tinder. The echo of the woman's touch on her pubic hair reminded how that was going to itch all too soon, but the tingling she felt in her nipples and vagina, and now her ass, was not that.

She turned to him and kissed him...passionately, pushing her tongue into his mouth, pulling his head against her. She wanted him, she wanted to be his. She was so excited about the prospect of being his wife. She was so excited about being on this plane with him, about this trip. As his tongue swirled against hers, pushing into her mouth, she let the bizarreness of the situation wash away from her. She would be exposed, exhibited the entire trip, and she realized it was not only okay, it was what she really wanted. The fire leapt up to her mid-spine.

She uncurled her legs and turned to him to get closer to him. She dropped her hand to his crotch to feel for his penis, knowing it would be stiff. She cupped his head beneath the cloth of the kaftan, teasing him. She supposed if she was to be naked the entire time with Mahitha in the room, he wouldn't have any shyness of about having sex in front of the woman. He moaned into her mouth and his hands came down to her breasts, lightly massaging them.

"If everyone could get ready, we've been cleared for takeoff."

Monty sighed and broke their embrace. He pulled a seatbelt over his shoulder and pointed to Marcie's, for her to do the same. Sitting next to one another, her naked, him erect, Marcie couldn't help but laugh at the scene. "Monty...this is just too bizarre. Are you going to tell me what's really in store for me?"

Although she trusted him completely, she knew this was just the beginning of the 'sacrifices' she would be making this next few weeks.

Monty smiled at her and offered his lips to kiss her again.

Ten minutes later a bell rang and Mahitha invited them to unbuckle if they wanted.

"Did you want anything to eat?" He asked her again, his fingers lightly playing on her nipples.

She closed her eyes, letting the fire flicker and trying to understand Mahitha's role in all of this. She knew what she wanted to eat; breakfast could wait. She reached down and pulled up the hem of his garment, scooted her butt over and leaned down to take him in her mouth. If she was going to have sex with him, Mahitha was going to have to watch.

He didn't miss a beat, shifting his legs a little to let the kaftan move out from under him. He continued to pet her, rubbing her back and pulling on the thong. She moaned on his cock.

Mahitha was unfazed, moving about the kitchen pouring juice, preparing coffee, as if this sort of thing happened all of the time. And as far as Marcie could tell, it probably did. The whole thing turned her on even more, the fires deepening and extending to the base of her skull. His cock was all she was interested in for the moment, the deeper into her throat she could get it, the better.

She rolled off the couch, keeping her lips on him, until she was kneeling on the floor between his legs, her head curled over as best she could. She knew she looked like a slut, that Mahitha must think of her as nothing but a cheap whore, but if anything, the image of her forcing herself on him only aroused her more. The sounds of her slurping and grunting as she tried to get his shaft into her throat put her into a small frenzy. Finally, she found a position that let him fuck her as she wanted – her throat a slippery tunnel. She moved out and in, feeling him stiffen, his hands letting her know he was excited and wanted her to do this. And then, pride filling her, she felt him stiffen and vibrate and she knew he had crested. For her part, the fires were just beginning – the thong pushing into her cunt, the cream Mahitha had applied tingling her nipples, her asshole and now her clit. Three licking flames, combining with her own arousal.

She sat back to catch her breath and realized it was a 20 hour flight. They hadn't been in the air for 30 minutes. She moaned at what the trip would bring.

She pulled off his cock at the sound of Mahitha politely clearing her throat. "Would you care for anything to drink?" Marcie blushed, in spite of her nonchalance just moments ago, and looked up to see the young woman smiling and welcoming them to the bar. She looked up at Monty in turn, raising her eyes. She couldn't believe she was doing this: naked, deep throating him, in his private jet, with a servant watching. What level had she descended to? At the sound of stepmother's voice in her head, she stood up, proud and defiant.

"Thank you, Mahitha, I am a little parched." She held out her hand to Monty, trying to accept his raging erection as a perfectly appropriate accessory to an otherwise completely normal scene.

"Mahitha," Monty turned to the woman as they took their places, "what do you want?"