The Press Gang

If you've flown on a widebody airliner, you might have noticed a door in the back that isn't marked as a lavatory. Perhaps other people are more curious--I'd seen them from time to time but never thought much about them.

The events that really drew my attention to them began when I had just finished a backpacking tour in Europe. I found myself in a big airport, which shall remain nameless for reasons that will become apparent. I was off to a brief vacation in southeastern Asia before returning the the US. My flight was on one of the Asian carriers and was due to leave in ninety minutes or so. Books in English hadn't been too plentiful in the little towns I had been visiting, so I was taking the opportunity of the airport shop to grab a couple of paperbacks for the flight.

Even here the selection was rather sparse, and I was rather doubtfully leafing through a copy of Ian McEwan's Atonement when I heard a voice behind me.

"I love that book!"

The voice spoke with perfect English but a slightly lilting accent. A bit startled, I turned. Behind me was a woman in her late twenties in the uniform of a flight attendant.

"You should really read it--it's beautiful."

Well, I've never been any good at resisting female suggestions, so when I boarded the plane 30 minutes later, Atonement was neatly tucked into my backpack.

We had been flying for a couple of hours when "my" flight attendant came to offer me an after- dinner drink. Tucked under the napkin was a note:

"When I walk by again in a few minutes, follow me."

I blinked and swallowed the water in a single gulp.

True to her word she walked past my seat without a glance at me. I waited for a moment so that it wouldn't be obvious that I was following her. The back gallery was empty except for her. She looked around carefully, winked at me, and then opened an inconspicuous door and motioned me inside.

Through the door was a narrow spiral staircase leading up. I started to climb, hearing her footsteps behind me.

At the top was a narrow hallway with a ceiling so low I had to effectively crawl forward. On either side were little cubby beds with curtains, pillows and compartments for storage.

I looked at my companion. She was of medium height with black hair and a beautiful smile that at the moment was full of mischief.

"What did you think was going to happen here?" she asked, looking me full in the eyes.

I blushed and looked down, unable to meet her gaze. My voice answered with a croak.

"I'm, I'm not sure--I just wanted to do what you asked."

"Of course you did," she purred. "And now you will be rewarded for that."

She slid herself onto one of the beds, grabbing my hand and pulling me after her. When we were both on the bed, she pulled the curtain closed.

"Shh," she whispered.

I saw that she was fiddling with the fastenings of her skirt, but was still surprised when it simply fell off of her. Underneath she was wearing stockings held up with a garter belt and a narrow black G-string.

"Not very practical for flying, I know. But the access is outstanding."

I crawled between her legs. Her perfume was suddenly very strong and it, together with my excitement, made my head light.

I caressed the lips of her pussy with my tongue. The noise of the plane made it impossible to hear any noise she made in reaction, but I felt the sudden tension in her legs.

My tongue touch her clit and her whole body stiffened. I continued, using my tongue as best I could. As I continued, she started to drive her body against my mouth in a slow, intense rhythm. Then, after what seemed like an age, she suddenly grabbed my hair and pulled me against her hard. Her legs clamped against me so that I could only just breathe. My head began to swim, then her whole body tensed, shuddered, and went limp. I lay against her legs, feeling rather than hearing her deep breaths.

We lay still for some time, until she sat up and kissed me gently on the lips.

"Thank you, my dear--that was very...pleasant."

I was a bit hurt--I thought I deserved more praise than that. But before I could say anything, I felt her hands on the belt of my pants.

"And of course, you deserve a reward."

Before I really knew what was happening, my underwear was down as well, and I felt her soft hands on my cock, which immediately sprang to full attention.

After a moment, she slipped a condom out of her pocket and onto me.

"No mess, right?"

I just nodded.

The combination of her presence, the danger and the novelty of the situation was too strong, and it was only a few moments before I came, hard.

She laughed.

"I think this calls for a drink, don't you?" she giggled.

Without waiting for my reply, she pulled out two of the tiny scotch bottles they give you on planes.

"Cheers!"

We drank them down much too quickly, and she pulled me against her body and cuddled me in the bed. I was suddenly terribly sleepy.

I awoke an indeterminate time later, feeling very tired and confused. I lay there for some time trying to remember where I was.

As the memory of the flight and the trip to the "upstairs cabin" came back to me, I began to look around. I was still in the cabin, but I felt odd. Looking down, I saw that I was now wearing dark slacks of some unpleasant synthetic fiber. Above that was a white shirt, with, oddly, a name tag on it.

I tried to read the tag, but the combination of my confused state and the fact I was looking down at it meant I couldn't really make it out.

"Awake at last, I'm glad to see."

I jumped at the voice as the memory of the flight attendant coming rushing back.

"I'm sorry about the Micky Finn--I really am. But it was the only way to get my plan started."

Nothing that she said made much sense to me.

"We'll be landing soon. You will want to stay with me--if you try the wrong passport line I don't think this new passport will, pass the muster, so to speak."

She held out a red passport. Not really thinking, I opened it to see a picture of myself surrounded by words in a language I didn't recognize.

"Slovenian--not too expensive on the black market. Your bag is there--be careful taking it down the stairs.

I saw a typical flight attendant-style black roller bag.

"Don't worry--your real passport and bags are quite safe--I might even return them some day, if you're good."

There was a sort of fog between my consciousness and my mind. The only thing I seemed able to do was follow her.

Once off the plane, we queued for passport control. I was recovering enough to be beginning to get scared: going through immigration with a false passport wasn't a pleasant thought. But my new companion (I didn't even know her name, I realized) guided me to one of the lines. The bored agent looked and me and the photo, stamped the passport and motioned to the next person in line.

Outside the airport, she guided me to a shelter for the hotel shuttles. A second flight attendant joined us, winking rather obviously at my friend. But neither said a word.

The trip to the hotel was brief, and it turned out to be an anonymous 4 star international hotel that made up for a lack of local character with lots of soothing neutral tones and a general air of hushed business.

She collected keys and guided me to a room on the 4th floor. I was pleased to see two queen beds.

"You look tired."

Her voice had a strangely calming effect--I found myself removing my shoes and falling into bed with the rest of my clothes on.

When I woke up, the curtains were open and bright sun streamed in. I turned in bed and was surprised not to feel the tug of the clothes I had been sleeping in.

My hands slid down my body, feeling nothing but bare skin.

I lifted the covers. I was dressed only in a pair of black bikini-like underwear.

"Awake at last, my lovely?"

She had apparently just come from the shower--her long black hair was still damp, and she was wearing a white terrycloth robe obviously from the hotel closet.

"You must have a lot of questions. But I think you will find that what has happened to you will be one of the best accidents of your life."

"My name is Elena, by the way. We've decided to call you Pavel--I hope you don't mind."

My mind was so confused and full of questions that I asked the least important one."

"We?"

"Don't worry, Juliana will stop by later. Right now you'd probably like a shower and some food. You'll probably want to borrow one of the hotel's robes afterward--I've taken the liberty of having all your clothes sent off for cleaning so that we can discuss a few ground rules before you get any ideas about running away."

I was still holding the covers around me.

"Darling, you've got nothing to hide from me--who do you think took off the last clothes? And anyway, you're going to be spending a lot more time naked, so it's time to get used to it."

I got up, slipped off the briefs (or were they panties?) and headed for the bathroom.

The hot water washed over me, draining tension from my body. In spite of the objective madness of the situation, I felt excited more than afraid. I wrapped the robe on the wall around me and came out.

"Drop the robe, silly--let me check you out."

I stood, naked, as she circled me appraisingly.

"Good raw material, I think."

I tried to stammer something in response, but before it became coherent, there was a knock on the door. I froze.

"Don't move--Juliana will want to take in the view.

The door opened and another dark haired woman walked in, dressed in a swimsuit coverup and leather thong sandals.

"Not bad, Elena--we can work with him."

She circled me slowly and critically.

"A bit pale, though."

"Just what I thought too."

Elena started to rummage around in her suitcase.

"Here--put this on!"

It was a leopard-print speedo bathing suit. I gulped.

Elena gave me a look that she didn't need to explain. I slid into the swimsuit, which was also a size too small.

I jumped as something cold was sprayed all over my back.

"Can't have you getting burned! The pool is on the first floor--you should lie out for at least an hour."

And Elena pushed me out the door.

I was alone in the hotel hallway in a speedo and no room key.

Since there was nothing else for it, I found the pool and lay down on one of the lounge chairs.

There was quite a mix of people at the pool, and I got a lot of double-takes, with a few barely-suppressed giggles in the mix. I lay still and tried to pretend I was invisible.

I didn't have a watch and wanted neither to leave too soon nor to get burned. Eventually, I found a clock hidden near the bar. I though an hour and twenty minutes should satisfy my two new...mistresses? Was that what they were?

I returned to the room: the door was locked and no one answered my knock. I waited what seemed an age, but was probably only three or four minutes.

"Welcome back!"

Elena let me back into the room.

"Let's see if there are any tan lines--strip please."

My suit was taken away, and I was left standing naked again.

Elena and Juliana ignored me, chatting cheerfully as I stood there.

At last, Elena spoke to me in her singsong voice that I now knew meant one thing: obey.

"Juliana hasn't had the pleasure of your tongue yet--come here."

Juliana untied the coverup. The bikini underneath was tied with strings, and she untied those of the bottoms as well.

"Kneel, please."

I set to work, enjoying the sounds of pleasure from Juliana, who, however, studiously ignored me.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it!" said Elena cheerfully.

My tongue froze mid-lick.

"No one told you to stop!" Juliana accentuated her statement with a hand in my hair, pushing me into her.

"Thanks--just put the food there." Elena told the hotel employee. I realized that they had carefully positioned me to be invisible from most of the room--the server would have only seen a woman sitting on the bed apparently reading. Still...

We flew out the next day, Elena having booked me on the flight "deadheading." Since it was only a short flight, nothing untoward happened, and the three of us met up again at another airport hotel.

"Time for some clean up, don't you think?" giggled Elena.

"Did you get the wax?" answered Juliana.

Wax?

"Strip down, silly--we can't have a boy toy with all that hair everywhere."

The warm wax going on was rather pleasant--not so much coming off.

"Ouch!!" I moaned.

"Now you know what it's like for us women, my dear," said Juliana mockingly, as she proceeded to pull off the next strip with an extra jerk.

Sleeping was hard that night; every inch of my body was sore from the treatment. But it was worse the next night, since the girls ordered me to get a nice sunburn on top of my newly hairless skin.

After our next trip, I was ready to crash. But Elena opened her suitcase and handed me a pair of vey tight workout shorts and a sleeveless top.

"Now that we can see that body, it's time to get it ripped!" she laughed.

And so began nightly workouts directed by the two of them over FaceTime as I tried not to pay attention to the strange looks my attire provoked from the other patrons of the hotel gym.

Our next flight was a long one, and Elena smuggled me up to the rest area soon after takeoff.

The reason for this became obvious an hour or so later, when we were joined by the flight's purser.

She was probably in her fifties, with an expensive haircut and a smile that ended before her eyes.

"Kathy was kind enough to let me bring you on this flight, so I thought you might thank her appropriately.

Kathy loosened her skirt and rather grudgingly made room for me. I set to work. Her evident disinterest was a turnoff, but Elena was watching with rapt interest, helping me get into the moment.

My tongue was sore and my jaw ached before I felt the welcome shudder and heard the suppressed moan of her orgasm.

"Well, you're not much to look at, but at least you will eat a woman out, which is more than my husband will do."

With which faint praise she adjusted her clothes and left without a backward glance.

Elena kissed me: "My little slut!"

Elena was catching a further flight after this one, and so Juliana and I ended up at a hotel alone together for the first time.

I had stripped down and was getting ready to crawl between her legs when I heard her laugh.

"Not so fast, my little one. Sit!"

She motioned me to one of the two chairs for the mini table at the window--she sat in the other.

"No, no--sit forward. I want your balls hanging down in front of the chair, slut!"

I stared at her, startled.

"A bit shocked, are you?" Her laugh was silvery--and a trifle chilling.

"Elena just likes the attention--and the sex, of course. She's turned on by your doing what she tells you to. Me, I'm a bit different. I want to see a little suffering too."

I swallowed hard.

"It's probably easier just to have a demonstration. Spread your legs and put your hands, palms up, on your thighs."

I did as she ordered. She stood up and walked to the bathroom. I heard the water running. She returned holding two half-full glasses of water, placing one in each hand. Then she walked away.

After what seemed an age, she returned, holding a riding crop.

"Hold still--every time water spills, I add a stroke."

She waited, enjoying the fear in my eyes. Sitting down, she locked eyes with me, and I found I couldn't look away.

SWAT!

The crop snapped up against my balls.

Later, hard won experience would show that it wasn't really much of a blow. But for a first time, and an unexpected first time, it wasn't pleasant. I moaned and my legs involuntarily spasmed. I could feel the water splash on my bare shins.

Her gay laughter brought me back to her eyes.

"Did that sting, my pet? Let's try again!"

I tensed all my muscles, but still the water splashed out as I jumped with the sudden pain.

"Count my strokes, dear--it will help you concentrate!"

SWAT!

"Three," I moaned as water splashed.

I glanced down--the water in both glasses was nearly gone!

SWAT!

"Fo..fo..four."

SWAT!

"Fi..five"

SWAT!

"SIX!" I nearly screamed, and then began to sob uncontrollably.

To my shock, Juliana dropped the whip and gathered me in her arms and led me to the bed.

"There, there, my pet. It's ok--mummy will take care." She carefully brushed the tears away and lay my head in her lap.

I lay still on her legs, feeling her breath go in and out. My emotions were a hash of pain, fear, and a strange kind of warmth. Juliana continued to stroke my hair until I fell asleep.

I woke up thee following morning determined to have things out with Juliana. I might have accepted these two girls ordering me around, but there had to be a limit.

The door to the room opened, and she walked in. She had on a leather corset top which left the tops of her breasts and her midriff bare, with leather trousers and black pumps.

"Ahh--awake at last. Kneel!" She pointed to her feet.

And I did. Why? For the moment, I decided not to think too hard.

"Good pet. I don't think we need a bunch of rules, but if you greet me each morning by kissing my feet from that position, it will start the day right."

I kissed each pump.

I spent a hard morning in the gym: Juliana's workouts aimed at a leaner, more toned body for me. Afternoon was a full body massage for her--she laughed when she saw my erection grow at the sight of her naked form.

"At least you know how to stand at attention for your mistress."

After supper, she pointed to the chair again.

"Palms up, my dear."

The water spilled again, and I moaned in pain. But I didn't cry.

"Good, my pet. Soon you will beg me to give you your nightly pacification."

And to bed.

Juliana and I only had a couple more days together, and then Elena returned. And as much as I loved laying my head between Elena's thighs, I found myself craving those evening torments. I couldn't understand what was happening to me, so I threw myself into serving my two mistresses and thinking as little as possible.

Throughout this time, whenever one of the two of them had had time off to go home, I was sent on trips with the other. But now a change happened.

Juliana asked one night, "Would it be ok if I drag this one home to my apartment for my week off?"

Elena answered, "I think I can keep myself amused without him. And, I must admit he is better behaved after some time with you."

So she noticed. But the truth was a bit more complicated. Juliana had said to me one day, "I want you to try harder with Elena. I think you've been a bit too flip with her because she doesn't wield the whip quite like I do."

So I found myself being more and more subservient with Elena at the same time that I was being a bit of a brat when alone with Juliana. But not too much of a brat--that crop of hers could sting when I went too far.

Juliana and I rode the subway to her small flat in a high rise. It wasn't much, but I knew that it was more expensive than a flight attendant's salary would cover in this city.

"Daddy helps," she said, reading my mind.

We walked inside.

"Strip!"

I stood naked with my hands clasped on my head and legs spread.

She circled me slowly.

"As long as you are here, I want you to be naked unless cooking or working out. Speaking of which, let me show you your duties."

I spent the rest of the day cleaning her flat under her watchful eyes. I then fixed us some light salads with avocados, fresh croutons and brie.

After dinner, she summoned me.

"You'll need to see this."

It was a website--and obviously an adult one. She clicked on a video.

I jumped--the voice was mine!

It was a video of our first session with the crop. My face wasn't visible, thank god, but anyone who knew my voice would recognize it.