The Air Stewardesses' Footmen Ch. 03

"Well, Donna said she wanted to give me a second chance. Donna told me that even though I had disappointed her, she believed I would come good in the end. She told me she would protect my job if, from now on, I was a shining example of her version of a model cabin crewman. And living up to Donna's standards is why I've had to let my girlfriend Gemma down again; I'd promised her we would go to the pub tonight. It's why I'm still here, waiting to 'voluntarily' provide post-flight foot massages to the delayed air hostesses and to polish their uniform pumps."

I could see that Terry was mulling over whether to believe my story about Donna's pre-promotion post-flight foot massage request. And about Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson's reaction when Donna had told her about my flat refusal to oblige her. And about the soles of Ms Lawson's feet after her twenty-year air hostess career, sometimes enduring 'Trans-Atlantic tootsie torture' when flying a non-stopover turnaround to America.

"But, Terry, I'll tell you who did show me the bare soles of her feet today: Captain Amanda Mandelson."

"No way, Mason!"

"Captain Amanda told me that before she became a pilot, she was an air hostess for five years, the last two as Senior Stewardess."

"Yes, I know she was, Mason. I have been a BlueSky Holidays cabin crewman for three years. I served under Senior Stewardess Amanda."

"Oh. Well, Captain Amanda told me the same thing as Chief Stewardess Lois Lawson. She wished that cabin crewman-provided after-shift foot service had been available to her during her days as an air hostess because she would have taken utmost advantage of us. Captain Amanda told me all about the hazard-of-the-job foot soreness that she suffered during her five years as a hostie, that she called 'The affliction common to air hostesses'. And as I told you earlier, Captain Amanda said that some air hostesses struck gold with their boyfriends, who liked to pamper their feet not only with frequent massages and regular foot care treatments but with much more intimate attentions. But she was not one of the fortunate few; her boyfriend disobliged her, neglected her in that regard. He refused her pleas for even just a quick post-flight footrub. Oh, and that reminds me. Captain Amanda has secured our onboard foot massage service for female flight deck officers. Captain Amanda outlined her scheme, and the COO gave it her full approval. Captain Amanda's scheme is that cabin crewmen will serve the female flight deck officers during the interval at the destination airport turnaround. Ms Summers told Captain Amanda that, subject to cabin crewman availability, our extended service to flight deck officers will begin today on flights departing from midday."

Terry gave me a look, wondering if this belated inclusion of female flight deck officers for foot service was true or if I was spinning another yarn.

By now, Terry and I were about halfway down the second aisle between locker rows 3 and 4, polishing the pairs of air hostesses' after-shift pumps as and when we came to them.

I was initially highly dubious about Terry's 'signature essence' foot scent theory and his assertion that he could discern an air hostess's uniquely individual olfactory identifiers. But my scepticism was soon scuppered. Because, each time Terry sniffed the interiors of the uniform pumps of an air hostess who I'd told him he'd provided post-flight foot service tonight, he unfailingly recognised the foot fragrance of the air hostess in question.

I looked at my watch, and I saw that the time was now 03:15. Not long to go then, before the arrival of the two delayed all-female cabin crews.

Terry held out one of the few remaining unpolished pairs of air hostess uniform black pumps. "Mason, your turn. These pumps belong to one of the six air hostesses you provided post-flight foot service tonight. Go on, why don't you have a sniff? I bet you will recognise her signature essence. I'll trust you to be honest. If you are wrong, you can go home when we have completed our post-flight foot service, and I will stay behind to polish all of the remaining after-shift uniform pumps."

I could not articulate my emotions when Terry put that suggestion to me.

But I was not excited by the attractive 5/1 chance of getting away somewhat earlier to my bed if I truthfully called it wrong. No - the ground moved under me because I realised that I wanted to accept Terry's pump-sniffing challenge; I wanted to put to the test my own 'signature essence' recognition capabilities.

Barely believing what I was doing, I nodded my acceptance to Terry, whereby he handed me the pair of after-shift uniform pumps.

Knowing that the pair of well-worn uniform black pumps I now held in my hands belonged to an air hostess who I had performed post-flight foot service tonight, a strange sensation came over me. And I knew it was: it was the same sense of awe that Terry felt.

Terry must have sensed something, noticed some change in me.

"Everything okay, Mason?"

"Yes, Terry," I said as I held the well-used work pumps in my hands, feeling their residual warmth.

I took in every detail of wear and tear on the much-creased black leather uppers and on the scuffed and scarred once white but now darkly discoloured leather soles of the pumps that the 'mystery' air hostess had worn today and on innumerable previous flight duties.

Terry inclined his head towards the pair of uniform black three-inch heel uniform pumps in my hands. "Mason, they are something, aren't they?"

"Yes, Terry," I agreed. "They are something."

And they were. I even fancied I could feel the faint energy trace of the wearer, sense her lingering presence. Moreover, if put to the visual test, I believed I would discern the pumps from a line-up of all of the other pairs of replica black three-inch heel uniform pumps. Because Terry was right: the air hostesses' pumps were the same, but not the same.

"Mason, go on and take your sniff. Empty your lungs first as I did. Then get your nose right in there and take a good, long, deep whiff."

Curiosity had got the better of me. I wanted to know if, like Terry, I could recognise the uniquely individual 'signature essence' foot scent to determine the identity of the air hostess in question.

I followed Terry's suggestion. I fully exhaled, buried my nose and as much of my face as I could into the interior of the left pump, and I took a good, long, deep whiff.

And, so absorbed was I in my absolute certainty that I was inhaling Senior Stewardess Donna's 'signature essence' from deep inside the interior of her still warm left work pump, I was oblivious to the simultaneous arrival of the two delayed all-female cabin crews.

"Hey, Duckster!" yelled Senior Stewardess Camilla Cameron.

I almost jumped out of my skin in shocked surprise. But when I saw Camilla gleefully showing me her smartphone, I knew things were a lot worse than I'd first feared from her triumphant-toned greeting.

"Oh, I got you a good one, Duckling! Just wait until Gemma sees this photo! I'm sending it to her email address right now... there! Just wait until your redhead bitch girlfriend Gemma sees the look on your face, sniffing inside of that air hostess' uniform pump!"

"Camilla, no. Please don't send that photo to Gemma," I pleaded, even though I knew that any appeal to Camilla's better nature was hopeless. "Can't we work something out? I mean, just between us."

"Ducky, seriously? What possible arrangement do you think the two of us could come to? And anyway, do you think I'd miss a chance like this to get one over on that bitch Gemma? A golden chance like this? Well, dream on! It's just too good to be true. I've already sent her that photo of you. And not to boast of my photographic skill, but look... hasn't it come out well! I'm only sorry I won't be there to see her face when she sees it, the first of many. Oh, just wait until she sees it: that spaced-out look on your face, sniffing the inside of an air hostess' after-work pump!"

"The first of many?" I said miserably.

"Yes, the first of many! Surely you didn't think I would be happy with just the one, still-photo? I will be taking many photos. And, if you'll pardon the pun, some video footage, too. And, who knows where else I might post your pump-sniffing photo? Hmm? And all of the other snapshots that I am about to take of you - not to mention lots of videos. That is, post them if the bitch won't submit to grovelling on her knees before me and beg me to delete them all by kissing the soles of my feet! Well, I'll have to think. But I can tell you now, Ducky, what one of them will be: you sniffing the insides of my work pumps! Since obviously, you like it so much. And you will kiss them too, to demonstrate your proper respect for me. But not just me, Ducky. You will first kiss the soles and then sniff the insides of the uniform pumps of every returned air hostess here who, due to delays, has been wearing them on duty for over sixteen hours."

"Camilla, please don't involve Gemma. I will agree to anything you say, do anything you want. Yes, you hold all the cards. But let's leave Gemma out of this. Please - there must be some kind of agreement we can come to!"

"Duckster, you are damn right I hold all the cards. You can beg and plead all you want. But you are in no position to even ask to bargain. Because, in a minute, you will be on your kneeling mat. In the proper and perfect position to perform my post-flight foot massage, which I will video on my smartphone. And anyway, you will agree to do anything I say and submit to anything I want if you know what is good for you. And, Ducky, from now on, not only when you are under my supervision on flight duty but outside of work too, you will unfailingly call me 'Miss' Camilla. Got it?"

This was not the time to demur. If I had any bargaining chips at all, I didn't want to fritter them away over lesser matters like having to bow to Camilla in public as well as at work. So I said, "Yes, Miss Camilla."

"Now listen, Ducko. I have already sent my first still photo to Gemma's email. And at six p.m. today, I'll send the rest of the photos and videos from my compiled album, which I'll title 'Foot Games'. So you can sit in comfort on your living room sofa and hold hands while you enjoy full-screen blow-ups of them all on your TV. Ha - and I know who is going to blow up, too, blow her red-headed top! What I would give to be there to see the ginger ninja's reaction and hear her considered critique of my pictorial portfolio, starring Cabin Crewman Mason Mallard! Because yes, only your moronic face will appear in all of the pics and vids of you massaging our feet, kissing the outsides and sniffing the insides of our uniform pumps, and... more."

Camilla pointed me to the crew room. "Duckster: time to assume the position on your kneeling mat. Now move - my feet are killing me!"

Terry had accompanied the two delayed all-female cabin crews to the crew room. He had resited himself at his station at the same trio arrangement of three stackable chairs, on his kneeling mat and facing the central, foot service receiving seat.

Only Senior Stewardesses Camilla and Lisa were not seated at the debrief/money-counting tables. Upon discovering the disappointing dearth of after-flight footmen and knowing their Senior Stewardesses would pull rank to claim first use of them, the eight air hostesses of their respective cabin crews had decided to do their Duty-Frees money count.

Senior Stewardess Lisa Lewis shifted from foot to foot in her apparent discomfort as she stared down at Terry on his kneeling mat. "Where are you all?" Lisa said, and Terry didn't need to ask her what she meant.

Terry said, "Miss Lisa, I can only take it that you haven't heard what happened at this afternoon's Gatwick HQ meeting of all cabin crewmen called by our COO, Ms Gina Summers. Ninety-plus per cent of cabin crewmen rejected the proposed terms and conditions of continued employment under revised contracts, accepting the COO's severance cheque instead to walk out in immediate resignation. That left only twelve BlueSky Holidays cabin crewmen in total, half of them Gatwick-based. And so that is the reason for the underprovision of after-shift foot service providers to attend you and your cabin crew tonight."

In tones of dismayed incredulity, Senior Stewardess Lisa said, "What? So you are telling me there are now only six Gatwick-based cabin crewmen?"

"Yes, Miss Lisa. But I assure you that no air hostess shall be deprived of her new after-flight entitlement tonight. Cabin Crewman Mason and I volunteered to extend our services to demonstrate our agreeability. Our willing conformity to both the letter and the spirit of the COO's new Subservience to Stewardesses directive."

"Did you really, Cabin Crewman Terry?"

"Yes, Miss Lisa. Senior Stewardess Donna suggested to Mason and me to set a gold-standard example tonight. So we opted to remain behind after fulfilling our own obligations, to provide post-flight foot massages to all of our later returning and delayed female counterparts."

Senior Stewardess Lisa said, "Ninety-plus per cent of our cabin crewmen have resigned and left without working their notice period, you say? Ms Summers has somewhat overdone her male worker reduction drive to achieve her ideal norm, her target ratio of one cabin crewman on every flight. But that aside, Terry, it is very agreeable of you and Mason to voluntarily extend your own availability to alleviate the shortfall of post-flight foot service providers. Your sympathetic attitude and your selfless thoughtfulness towards your footsore female counterparts are highly commendable. I can now consider myself fully justified in my long-held opinion that you and Mason are our best two cabin crewmen."

"Miss Lisa, thank you. But please, think nothing of it. Mason and I are both on Day-off tomorrow, and so we felt it was the least we could do."

Lisa said, "Well, good. Because I really couldn't put into words the depth of my disappointment tonight if I had to miss out on the post-flight foot massage provided by a cabin crewman colleague that is now my contractual entitlement. Because you simply have no idea, Terry, just how much I have been looking forward to it since our COO Ms Summers gave us Senior Stewardesses advance detailed notice of her plan to drastically reduce our cabin crewmen contingent and impose her Subservience to Stewardesses directive upon those who remain. Anyway... what is going on here with these seats? Have the seats been arranged in this two-threes fashion purposely?"

"Yes, Miss Lisa, they have - to suit the requirements of the moment. Devised earlier when only Cabin Crewman Darren and I were here to serve them and their crews, this trio seating system is the format deemed most practical by Senior Stewardesses Jasmine and Amelia. The side-by-side trio arrangement maximises efficiency by also affording convenient and comfortable shoulder-footrest accommodation for two air hostesses to take the weight off their feet while awaiting their turn occupy the central, foot service receiving seat."

Lisa said, "Yes, I see. The trio system is ingenious in its simplicity."

"Yes, Miss Lisa," agreed Terry.

Senior Stewardess Lisa said, "The present undersupply of after-flight footmen is the unintended consequence of Ms Summers' over-successful trimming down measures. But I am sure it will be only a temporary deprivation to air hostesses. As a matter of urgency, more cabin crewmen will be recruited to bring their numbers to par requirement. But yes, in the present circumstances, I can see why Jasmine and Amelia would think this side-by-side trio methodology would work best in the interim."

"Miss Lisa, would you like to sit here on this central seat in front of my kneeling mat and have your post-flight foot massage now? Or were you going to wait until after the Duty-Frees money count and debrief?"

Senior Stewardess Lisa said, "Cabin Crewman Terry, you can serve me immediately. My feet are killing me. And after the day I've had, I'm not in the mood to sit around when relief is at hand. And after all, what is the point of the privilege of rank if I don't use it; if I don't let the air hostesses under me count the Duty Frees takings while I make first use of you?"

"Well, Miss Lisa, you need to wait no longer. As you say, relief is at hand."

Senior Stewardess Lisa then sat on the central, foot-service receiving seat in front of Terry on his kneeling mat and proffered her left foot to be the first unshod.

Senior Stewardess Camilla turned to me, her eyes gleaming in triumphant glee as she readied her smartphone to record her Gemma-baiting 'footage'. "Duckling, I had naturally assumed that yours and Terry's flights were delayed. Because all of this is news to me too. But did I just hear Terry correctly? Ninety-plus per cent of cabin crewmen took the COO's financial inducement to walk out in resignation today? And that, because of the resultant underprovision of after-flight footmen, you and Terry both volunteered; actually volunteered, to stay behind tonight to set an example to your cabin crewmen colleagues by providing a post-flight foot massage for the later returning and delayed air hostesses - me included?"

"Yes, Miss Camilla," I said. "You heard right."

"How sweet! But don't go thinking, Duckster, that you might earn a good word from me in my Cabin Cewman Conduct Report!"

"I won't, Miss Camilla."

"But, don't worry, Ducks, I won't recommend your dismissal to the COO either. I could not be happier, having you right where you are. So maybe, on second thoughts, I may put in a good word for you - if you earn it."

"Thank you, Miss Camilla."

"Now, Ducky! You, too! Follow Terry's example. On your kneeling mat!"

Not wanting to compound my disastrous predicament by hesitating to do as bid, I said compliantly to my implacable tormentor, "Yes, Miss Camilla."

I got down on my kneeling mat as ordered by Camilla, who promptly sat down on the central, foot-service receiving seat vacated earlier by Senior Stewardess Donna.

"Take off my shoe, Ducky," commanded Camilla, holding out her right foot to me. "Leave my other shoe on; I'll tell you when to take it off."

Camilla's untoward treatment of me had attracted attention at the money-counting tables. Already aware of some issue between Camilla and me and now sensing a significant escalation under these optimal conditions for Camilla, the eight air hostesses of the two delayed cabin crews all came over to watch Camilla dominate me on my kneeling mat at her feet.

And now, there was a sea change. There was an altogether different atmosphere at my foot service station than when the avid in-the-queue audiences of predominantly good-natured air hostesses earlier had looked on and offered their technique-improving tips to their novice after-flight footman.

The turbulent wave-making was generated by Camilla. And riding the undercurrent was some of her clique; easily-led air hostesses in her sway.

I took hold of the three-inch heel of Camilla's uniform black pump with my left hand and pulled it down to free her right heel, and then I removed the shoe with both hands. And I found that I could not, with equanimity, meet the intently watching eyes of the gathered observers as, as instructed by Camilla, I upturned the shoe to first kiss the sole.

"No, Ducko! I've changed my mind. Smell inside of it first!" commanded the throne-like seated Camilla, her smartphone camera recording the opening scene of my utter humiliation. "Go on! Get your nose right in there and sniff, Ducky! Since, from my first photo, all of us have seen that you like it; the stink, inside an air hostess' after-work pump! And I mean now, Ducks! Or I won't even give your bitch girlfriend Gemma a chance to beg me to delete what I'll have on you. I'll post the pictures and videos of her stupid shoe-sniffing fiance on the internet tonight on every social media site I can think of! So go on, Duckster! Get your nose right in there while it's still warm! And it had better be good enough for my little film! Or else!"