Transformations - Travelers Ch. 01

"What hotel are you staying in?" Christine asked.

"Umm, someplace they gave five stars to online - La Lilitu or something like that."

"Oh, my God, so are we!" Christine said. "Did you sign up for any of the... classes?"

"No, all we saw on the website was a picture of the rooms and the five star rating..."

"Dark web. You have to go on the dark web to see the real website. I printed it all out," Christine whispered. She looked both ways and pulled out a folded printout from her purse. "I used to date a nerd in college, he turned me on to all this dark web stuff and taught me how to access it."

The printout had a calendar with scheduled classes. "Get a load of this: Oral Sex 101, Advanced Anal Techniques, BDSM for Beginners..."

"Holy shit!" Nancy whispered. The classes were held in various meeting rooms with names like Seka, Linda Lovelace, and Ginger Lynn. One of the classes was called Orgy Etiquette 101 and it was held in Main Auditorium A. It said it was open to singles only.

"We signed up for this one," Christine said. "Sensual Massage and Overcoming Inhibitions 101."

According to the schedule it was open to couples only and held in Main Auditorium Side B - at the same time as the Orgy class in Main Auditorium Side A.

Nancy laughed. "It might get a little loud on the other side of the wall..."

Christine giggled and took a sip of her pink cocktail. "Inhibitions... that's what I want to overcome. There's so much I want to talk about with Don - that's my husband. I just get so embarrassed."

Nancy gave her a weak smile. "Don't worry I can't talk to Eric either."

Christine stared at her drink. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Christine took a deep breath. "What was it like?"

Nancy frowned. "What do you mean?"

"When you... showed the pilot..."

Nancy went stiff in her seat. Christine had seen what she did. She blushed bright red. "I... I don't know what you're talking about..."

"It's okay," Christine whispered. "I won't say anything. I think it was... really brave. I wish I had the courage to do that."

Brave? Nancy had never thought of herself as brave.

She gave Christine a weak smile. "I think I need one of those drinks."

***

"Jesus, even the flight crew are Fembots," Monica whispered. They were sitting to the right of the entrance to the jetway and looking at the group of stewardesses and pilots.

Paul sat beside her in the cheap plastic seats and nodded. "Could be worse - the pilots could be Fembots as well."

Monica nodded. They had just watched an older woman wantonly spread her legs in front of a pilot and stewardess while the stewardess filmed the whole thing with an evil grin. Looking around the crowd, she saw lots of lewd behavior. People were making out, all tongues and hands - not just the Fembots, but many of the people in business suits as well. They carried the blue and pink drinks through the airport, sipping in between passionate soul kisses. The only ones who seemed immune were those without alcohol lubrication and the nuns, who sat quietly taking in the sights with half grins.

Paul had explained the nuns were not Catholic nuns, but nuns from the Church of Morpheus. They dressed like refugees from The Sound of Music, but the similarities ended there - plus, Paul said the fabric habits were really just coverings over the latex version of a habit they wore under it.

Paul leaned in close. "Okay, so, look at the Fembot stewardesses. See anything different between them?"

Monica stared toward the circle of women who were laughing at something one of the pilots said. Blondes, brunettes, redheads - more stewardesses than a plane would normally have. They wore tight pink latex dresses - looking much more like hookers than flight attendants. They looked identical... no wait.

"Two of them are wearing white latex under their uniforms, all the others are wearing only pink."

"Exactly," Paul whispered. "That uniform: latex boots, short pink latex uniform? That means they are street whores - the most common kind. You see them everywhere." He breathed out. "But, sometimes you see the one's wearing white. Stay away from them."

Monica stared at the gorgeous brunette wearing the white latex under her uniform. She wasn't laughing as hard as the other sluts. She seemed to be scanning the faces in the crowd. Monica suddenly remembered the redheaded whore in the sex toy shop - she had been wearing the same white outfit just without the pink uniform over it. "They have... powers or something, don't they?"

Paul nodded. "Yeah, don't stare at her, she might notice you." He sighed.

"One of them hypnotized Terri somehow back in the terminal. Scared the shit out of me. How do they do that?"

Paul shrugged. "I don't know. One started talking to me in a bar in Havana last year. I couldn't think straight. I think I... well, she, did stuff... you know? I wanted her to do stuff, and she did, only it wasn't my idea at all, like I was a passenger in my own body or something. Weirded me out."

Monica looked at him. He was handsome, a little short for her, but he had kind eyes.

And, he looked miserable.

"Paul? Why do you go with him to Cuba? I can tell you hate this."

He shook his head. He seemed to be looking for the right words. "Listen, for guys this is like... I'm really shy, okay? In a weird way, this is good for me. I get a thrill from it all - I know that's sick and pathetic, but for a guy this is kind of cool. It makes me feel normal." He looked into her eyes and put his hand on hers. "But, listen, you shouldn't go. I really think it's dangerous for girls to go - I mean, more and more people are going down there for a sexcation. Do you know they had ten times more tourists than Vegas last year? They need a constant supply of Fembots, and I think they take whoever they want. Why in the heck are you going down there?"

Monica looked across the aisle where Terri was locked in conversation with David. She was in full on flirt, right down to hair flips.

Monica laughed. "Terri. I have to go because of her. If I don't go, I'm afraid she'll go by herself."

"You're her bodyguard, huh?" Paul said. He was smiling at her.

Monica felt the urge to flip her own hair. "Somebody has to be - I mean I know it doesn't seem like it, but she's sort of... innocent in a weird way."

They looked at Terri sitting there in the outfit she had changed into for the flight: skin tight pink yoga pants and a black Sid Vicious t-shirt with a ragged V-neck cut with scissors.

Monica shrugged. "Yeah, I said innocent in a weird way."

They both laughed.

Monica looked up to see one of the stewardesses - the blonde with the white dress under her uniform, smiling at them. She stood up and walked over, hips swiveling. She knelt beside them in her tight pink uniform.

"Aren't you two a cute couple?" the blonde breathed. She didn't have the bimbo lilt to her voice the way the others had - her voice was smooth and sexy, like velvet.

"Umm, we're just friends," Paul said. He wouldn't make eye contact with the woman.

Monica felt a slight sadness at that. Was she falling for him?

"I'm Diana," she held out her hand and took Paul's. She then turned to Monica and took hers.

Monica looked down at the woman's perfect black manicure. She wore a large silver pentagram ring on her left ring finger. Two silver figures lay in the center of the pentagram: a naked woman lying on her back, her ankles pinned behind her head by the muscular man who lay on top of her.

Diana smiled. "You like my ring, Monica?"

Monica looked up quickly into the woman's smiling face. "Umm, yeah, sure. I didn't mean to stare," Monica said. A frown crossed Monica's face. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

"You're in first class - I'm one of the first class stewardesses. We make sure we know all our passengers by name. You're Monica, this handsome young man is Paul, and behind us are your sweet friends, Terri and David."

Monica stared at her own reflection in the woman's beautiful eyes.

"I just wanted to come over, because I know this is your first time, Monica, and I'm sure you have lots of questions."

"My first time? How did you..."

"First time in Cuba, sweetie," Diana smiled showing a mouthful of perfect white teeth. "Did you think I meant something else?"

Monica gave a nervous laugh. "No... no... of course you meant my first time in Cuba."

"So, ask me anything," Diana said. She glanced down at the hem of her dress. "I'm wide open."

Diana's hand in hers was warm. It took Monica a second to realize the blonde was gently massaging her hand. It felt good.

She glanced over and saw that she was doing the same thing to Paul's hand.

"Did you always look like this?" Monica blurted out.

"There, now that's a brave girl," Diana said, still massaging her hand. "No. I looked a lot like you forty years ago."

Forty years? That wasn't possible. She's no older than me, Monica thought.

"Not that there's anything wrong with you," Diana added quickly. "You're breathtaking."

Monica did a hair flip, realized what she was doing and blushed bright red.

Diana laughed. "But, I wanted to be... something different. My friends turned me on to this lifestyle, and I've never looked back."

"How did they do this? I mean it's plastic surgery right?" Paul asked.

Monica was proud of him - he wasn't tongue tied, and not being tongue tied when being given a hand massage by liquid sex poured into latex was pretty admirable.

"The god Morpheus pioneered many techniques to help us reach our full potential."

"Morpheus?" Monica asked. "I thought he was like mythical or something."

Diana smiled. "He's a god. A living god. I've actually met him."

"Do you ever force girls to be..." Monica began. She couldn't find the right word. Whores? Sluts? Prostitutes?

"Whores, dear. We're whores. It's not a dirty word in Cuba," Diana said. "We have no shortage of women begging to be whores. I mean, the physical benefits alone are enough to entice a woman - add to that the raw animal sex all day and all night? Although, it does take some convincing for the women we seek out - but, you've probably had more pressure put on you by a used car salesman. Now there's a class of people who will fuck you over and ruin your life."

Monica laughed at the joke.

"Are you interested in joining our little club, Monica?" Diana whispered.

Monica stopped laughing. Her eyes grew wide, and she shook her head. "N... No. I was just curious."

Diana looked directly at the crotch of Monica's jeans. "Of course. Well, if you ever do, let one of us know - after you get through your first time, I mean."

"First time?" Monica whispered.

"In Cuba, dear. Everyone has their first time eventually. It can be a very beautiful and valuable life lesson," Diana said. "Just ask your... friend Paul."

A piece of paper appeared in front of Monica's face. "The path to salvation leads away from Cuba," a lilting voice announced.

Monica looked up.

A girl in a long khaki dress stood beside her, her brown hair pulled back in a severe ponytail. A huge crucifix hung from her neck. She was pretty, but she wore no makeup and her eyes looked puffy. Another girl appeared behind her - they looked identical in both appearance and clothing style. They could have been sisters if not for the difference in hair color. The second girl was a blonde.

Monica took the pamphlet. It was from the Mormon Church, and it featured the words the girl had spoken above an artistic rendering of the island of Cuba burning. "Thank you."

"Your immortal soul is in jeopardy if you partake of the sins of the flesh in Cuba," the girl said. She seemed like more of a Fembot than Diana.

"What if you aren't really doing anything useful with your soul in the first place?" Diana asked. She let go of Monica's hand and reached for the girl's.

The girl shrank away. "Don't touch me."

Diana looked hurt. "Why not? I just want to hold your hand."

"You're unclean," the girl said as she took a step back.

Diana's eyebrows knitted together. "Really? I don't think so - I showered before coming to the airport. Hannah and Captain Alex even scrubbed my back, didn't you?" She called over her shoulder.

Hannah, the other stewardess wearing white latex under her uniform laughed and nodded from a few yards away. The pilot laughed along with her.

"They even washed all my hard to reach spots. They're very thorough - would you like to see?" Diana began to spread her legs.

The Mormon girls stumbled over one another to back away.

"What's wrong, darlings? Did I frighten you?" Diana asked.

The Mormon girls ran away.

Diana called out to them. "It's a federal offense to preach Christianity on mainland Cuba. Our jails are not pleasant." She looked back at Monica and took the pamphlet from her hand. "Highly illegal. Those girls are about to have a very bad day. Honestly, how many of these zealots do we have to arrest before they give up?"

***

Nancy sipped the pink drink and she and Christine whispered and giggled on their bar stools like two teenagers with fake IDs.

Her secret was out - at least it was out to Christine and whoever the blonde stewardess decided to share her video with.

The covert video still worried her, but she had found a kindred spirit in timid Christine. The brunette doctor seemed enthralled by Nancy's whispered confessions. As more of the pink drinks were shared, more of Nancy's secrets came out.

Christine sipped away at her pink drink, occasionally stroking the pink straw with two fingers, sucking as Nancy talked about her various lovers.

Poor thing, Nancy thought. Obviously her medical degree hadn't included any psychology, or Christine would realize she was performing fellatio on her beverage.

The drinks were phenomenal. Strawberry with a hint of cream and an underlying kick that must have been vodka or rum.

Nancy felt warm inside and slightly wet, perhaps from the alcohol, but more likely from confessing her perversions to this total stranger.

Christine lowered her drink to the table, although with some reluctance - her tongue lingered on the end of the straw before returning between her pink glistening lips. "But, do you ever... feel anything for them?"

Nancy shook her head. "No. Eric is the only love of my life. These lovers are just... I don't know, walking dildos." Nancy returned to her own drink and felt a slight thrill as the straw passed between her lips. They tingled.

Christine laughed and bit her lower lip. "I would fall in love with any guy I had sex with other than Don. I don't know if I could stop myself. He never touches me."

"What?" Nancy asked. "You're gorgeous."

Christine looked at her hands. "He never stops working."

Nancy took her hand. "Hey, the whole time you're in Cuba he can't get on his phone, can't get on the internet - he'll notice how adorable you are."

Christine gave her a smile. "You think so?"

"Absolutely, babe. The two of us are getting our brains fucked out on this trip!"

Christine choked on her drink. "Nancy!"

Nancy slapped her hand over her lips. "Oh, my God! Did I just say that?"

Christine giggled uncontrollably.

Nancy held up her pink drink and stared at it. "These things are strong. I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me."

Christine's face was beet red. "Don't apologize... I hope... I hope we do get our brains fucked out!"

The two of them collapsed in laughter.

"Question: How can you tell when two beautiful women are talking about sex?"

Nancy and Christine stopped laughing and looked up at the woman who asked the question.

One of the flight attendants, a towering brunette with a lovely British accent smiled down at them. "Answer: When their lips are moving."

Nancy and Christine burst into laughter.

The flight attendant leaned in close. "So what were you nasty girls talking about?" She asked in her cultured British accent.

The air seemed filled with the scent of apples and cinnamon. Nancy felt light headed for a moment. "Wow, that's great perfume..."

"Oh, it isn't too much is it?" The stewardess asked. Her pink uniform was tight over the white latex dress she wore.

"No!" Christine said a little too loud. "I think it smells wonderful!"

Nancy looked both ways. "We were just sitting here bitching because our husbands won't pay any attention to us - but we're getting... we're getting our brains fucked out on this trip, aren't we Christine?"

Christine broke into another fit of giggles. She stared transfixed at the silver pentagram brooch on the stewardess's white latex choker.

"Good for you!" the stewardess said. She placed a hand on Nancy's right shoulder and her other on Christine's left shoulder. "You shouldn't let anything get in the way of your pleasure."

No, that's right, Nancy thought. That was soooo right! Why hadn't she thought of that before? Her pleasure was the most important thing. She felt very warm and a little sleepy.

Christine's eyes were shut.

"A woman should be pleasured constantly, don't you think so, Nancy?" the stewardess asked.

"Yessss!" Nancy whispered. She felt like she was drifting on a cloud. A beautiful cloud that smelled like apples and cinnamon.

"And if your husband is unwilling on this trip, then you must find other cocks to fill you."

Nancy stared into the stewardess's eyes. "Yes... yes, I should. I need to be pleasured. Other cocks would be a good idea."

"That's right. Big cocks... more than one at a time if possible."

Nancy slumped forward slightly, but the stewardess held her up.

The woman's words made such good sense. She should get fucked by multiple men. She'd never been with more than one at a time.

The stewardess removed her hands from their shoulders.

Nancy blinked and shook her head. What had she been thinking about?

Everything swam back into focus. The stewardess was smiling down at her.

Nancy smiled back. "Oh, wait... how do you know my name?"

The woman laughed. "Of everything I said, you can only remember I called you by name?"

"I'm sorry," Nancy laughed. "It's these drinks. They're sooo strong."

"Mmm, Pink Panty Soakers, living up to their name I'll wager," the stewardess said.

Christine giggled like a school girl.

"I know your name because you are Nancy 5D," the stewardess said. "And, this is Christine 6C. I'm one of your stewardesses in first class. I'm Hannah." She held out her hand and Nancy took it.

Nancy's mind went blank.

"I'm not in seat 6C," Christine said. "We're in row 10."

Hannah glanced at her. "You need to be quiet now, Christine. I've moved you to row 6 so you can be close to your new BFF Nancy."

"But... but 6C would be an aisle seat. I want the window," Christine whispered.

***

Hannah sighed and rolled her eyes. She still held Nancy's hand in her right hand. She turned and put her left index fingertip between Christine's eyes. "No, you're right handed. You're going to need to be on your husband's left. Now, you go to sleep for a minute like a good girl."

Christine's eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped face down on the bar.

"There now. That's much better," Hannah said. She leaned forward and kissed the back of Christine's neck. Then she pulled the hem of Christine's gray skirt up exposing her black silk panties on the red leather bar stool.

Hannah smiled down at her handiwork, and then gently pulled the back of Christine's panties up causing the silk to slide up into the cleft of her buttocks, exposing her taut white cheeks. "Even better."

A man walked by staring at the exposed, sleeping brunette.

Hannah smiled at his shocked expression. "Nice view, don't you think?"

The middle aged man stared at Christine's ass and nodded.