Transformations - Travelers Ch. 02

Comments welcome!

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"FLIGHT 118 TO HAVANA NOW BOARDING ALL CLASSES," a ticket agent said in her bubblegum sweet voice over the loudspeaker.

There were ten lines for boarding: two for first class, eight for coach.

Monica stood beside Paul and looked at the sea of people preparing to board. "How is this possible?! This many people on one plane?"

"Didn't you see them taking off?" Paul asked. "They're the biggest airliners ever built." He touched her arm. "Listen, when we get into the jetway, don't freak out."

She looked at him warily. "Why? What's going to happen in the jetway?"

"There's a medical exam..."

"What?! Fuck no!"

Paul lowered his voice. "Listen. There's still time for you to turn around. I know you feel responsible for her but I'm not kidding..."

"I'm scared out of my mind."

"And you should be. If she won't leave with you? I promise I will watch her as close as I can."

Monica smiled. "You would, wouldn't you?"

Paul blushed. "Please listen. You need to get out of here."

"I can't leave her. I'm sorry."

"You're too beautiful. There's no way they haven't noticed you."

She took his hand. "Do you have any idea how sweet you are?"

He rolled his eyes and turned away. But he smiled.

Monica took a deep breath. "This medical exam? What is it?"

He shrugged. "They take you into a room. You sit down in a chair. They shine a light in your eyes."

Monica stared at him expectantly. "And... then what?"

He shook his head. "That's it. The chair does a CT Scan or an MRI or something. It's over in just a few seconds. Then you get up and walk through to the plane."

Monica laughed nervously. "I thought there was some kind of full body cavity search or something."

"No, no... I mean it's been exactly the same each time. Just a bright light, nothing else."

The line began to move.

Terri and David walked side by side in front of them.

Monica took Paul's hand as they passed by the smiling fembot who ushered them through the door.

The jetway was wide. Inside there was a wall of doors - four, side by side. There was a red light over each.

The lights turned green, and the doors opened on four small booths.

"Please step into a booth and sit down in the chair," a perky redheaded stewardess said.

Terri, David, and Paul each stepped into a booth.

"You too, hon," the stewardess said.

Monica stepped inside and the door hissed closed behind her.

"Relax," a male voice said from the ceiling. "Please sit down in the chair."

The chair looked like something that belonged in a dentist's office: a black leather lounge chair with thick padding.

Monica sat down in the chair.

"Please look directly into the light."

And the booth instantly filled with a blinding white light.

***

Monica fell asleep instantly. She didn't feel the restraints that locked onto her wrists, ankles, and neck. She didn't feel the chair carried downward on a robotic arm into a massive, sterile white room filled with medical personnel in white and red latex outfits.

Her chair was placed in a line beside the chairs containing Terri, David, and Paul.

Terri's clothing had already been stripped.

"Terri Thompson. 19. Picked out for Whore Caste. Designation Cheerleader Whore, no brain wipe. Final destination slave auction." a doctor said as he read from a tablet. "Breast augmentation to DD - slow formula. Double slutifier."

Robotic arms ending in hypodermics swung down from above, injecting both her breasts through the nipples and piercing her ovaries through her abdomen. Pink fluid flowed into her body as she moaned.

"And, sterilize," the doctor in the tight white latex uniform said.

A sixteen inch long, blue dildo rose up from the floor on another robotic arm.

The seat of Terri's chair split in the middle and the two halves spread wide, parting her thighs.

The dildo swung forward between her legs and slid gently into her pussy. It continued moving till seven inches was buried inside her.

The dildo made a snapping sound - the sound of needles extending from the head of the dildo and injecting her cervix. Her cervix opened, dilating to the size of the dildo. A polymer sprayed out from the tip of the dildo and coated the inside of her uterus, sealing off the fallopian tubes.

A few seconds later, the long dildo surged forward burying itself deep inside her now elongated pussy.

Then it made one final injection: a retrovirus that would form a new, more sensitive clitoris sixteen inches deep in her new plumbing - a place that only a dildo or Whoremaster could reach.

A nurse stood by David's couch. "According to the chart, he's a VIP?"

The doctor nodded. "He brings us new recruits. They gave him a ten inch dick in exchange for his help procuring talent - they promised to make him a Whoremaster at some point in the future."

The nurse in the tight white and red outfit laughed. "Never going to happen."

"Nope."

They stepped over to Paul's chair.

"Paul Stroud... oh," the nurse said as she looked at the tablet. "I've never done one of these before."

The doctor shook his head. "We don't have to do anything. Says here the White Witches are doing everything for him."

She nodded toward Monica. "And her?"

"Absolutely hands off. That one belongs to the witches as well."

Another doctor ran up to them. "Hey, I got a problem over in the coach line."

"What?" The first doctor said.

"Witches picked out a woman for trailer trash whore and turns out she's three months pregnant."

"No problem. Grab an extractor and notify the witches." He turned to the nurse. "Button these four up and keep the line moving. I'll be back."

***

Samantha and Lawrence

Samantha opened her eyes. Had she been asleep? She remembered being enveloped in a white light and then...

The booth door opened in front of her.

"Please exit the booth so the next passenger can be processed," the voice said from the ceiling.

She stared at the open door.

But the door had been behind her when she walked in. She should be looking at a blank wall.

She turned and looked behind her.

No door behind. Just a wall.

"Please exit the booth so we can continue boarding."

Lawrence appeared in the doorway. "Samantha? You okay?"

"Huh? Yeah. I think so."

She stood up. Her dress was too tight across the middle.

And then the baby moved.

"Oof." She put both hands on her abdomen.

"Hey? Are you sure you're okay?" Lawrence asked as he stared at her stomach.

Twelve weeks. They can move at twelve weeks, she thought.

She smiled at Lawrence. "I'm fine."

***

Nancy

"Fuck, did they probe us or something?" Don, Christine's husband said as he stepped out of his booth. "Feel like my nuts were in a vice."

Nancy laughed as she stepped out of her booth into the jetway.

"Don!" Christine scolded.

"Well, it does, doc. What do you think they did to us in there?"

"Couldn't have been much," Nancy's husband, Eric said. "We were only in there for a few seconds."

"Seconds?! Are you kidding? Must have been at least ten or fifteen minutes. I'm a power napper and I feel like I had a power nap," Don said. He was a giant of a man, at least six and a half feet tall and built like a linebacker.

"You think?" Eric asked as he scratched his head. He looked at Nancy. "You think it was that long?"

"I don't know."

It didn't seem strange to Nancy until later that none of them had checked their watches. The thought hadn't even crossed their minds.

Nor would it cross any passenger's mind to even look at their watch until they landed in Cuba.

The white light did more than just render someone unconscious. It made 'suggestions'.

They followed the other passengers toward the plane.

Monitors in the ceiling above showed a video of a monstrous pink and blue aircraft with eight engines. "You will be travelling today in an Eros IV Leviathan from Cuba Aerospace. The Eros IV's eight rotating jet engines allow it to take off and land vertically, like a helicopter. The Eros IV has three levels. You will be on the top level: First Class. Coach seating is on level two reachable by the grand stairways located fore and aft from First Class. Level One is the Club Level with full service erotic entertainment..."

"Full service erotic entertainment? What does that mean, exactly?" Eric asked.

"I'm pretty sure it means there's a brothel," Nancy said.

"Not just that," Christine said. "A strip club, peep shows - it was all on the dark web."

"We oughta check out that strip club, Eric," Don said and elbowed him.

The two of them had been fast friends as soon as Christine and Nancy introduced them.

"Hey!" Christine said. "Aren't Nancy and I invited? We like naked girls too."

Don stared at her with his mouth open. "Uh... since when?"

Christine looked confused. "Since always. Besides, there might be naked men as well." She looked at Nancy and winked.

***

Diana did a last minute check of the first class seats. The big, comfortable blue and pink leather recliners were ready. She smiled. Most White Witches would have considered this menial work, but Diana enjoyed it. Not everyone could be Maria Marapova plotting world domination.

Captain Alex walked by looking at his tablet. "We have some weather over the Atlantic off the Carolinas, I'll be diverting us east around it. We'll go supersonic to make up the time. Listen, they'll probably notice the storm off to starboard so you might have some nervous passengers."

"Yes, sir," Diana said with a smile.

He looked sheepish - a junior Whoremaster had no business being called 'sir' by a White Witch. He should be calling her 'Ma'am'.

She rolled her eyes, picking up on his discomfort. She reached out and adjusted his tie. "What is it with you boys and these ties? You never get them straight."

"Can't get used to the damned things. If clothing is optional for the passengers, shouldn't at least ties be optional for the flight crew?"

Diana smiled. "Go do pilot-y things, Captain. We're busy."

***

In the first class galley, Hannah was checking the supply of drinks, Pink Panty Soakers and Blue Pile Drivers, available for the flight. The drinks were laced with Ambrosia, the powerful aphrodisiac produced in the breasts of female transformed and the testicles of male transformed. The drinks served in the airport itself were relatively low powered.

The drinks on the plane were much more potent.

By the time Flight 118 landed in Havana, there would be few if any inhibitions left in its passengers.

A stewardess with curly blonde hair sat twirling a curl on the end of her finger as she studied a book.

Hannah smiled at the Street Whore. "What are you reading, Daphne luv?"

She held it up and smiled, her big brown doll eyes glimmering.

The title read: MAINTENANCE AND REPAIR OF SMALL NUCLEAR REACTORS.

"I wanna be ready next month when they switch the Eros IV's over to nuclear power. Do you think they'll let me be a flight engineer?"

Hannah stared at her. "Daphne, can you understand the words in that book?"

"Oh, sure! It's mostly schematics and troubleshooting lists. Quiz me! I know the exact procedure to scram the reactor in the case of a catastrophic coolant malfunction whether that be from a loss of coolant pressure because of a leak or because of a failure of both the primary and backup coolant pumps."

Hannah smiled and stroked her hair. "You know all about nuclear reactors, but you still mix up the salt and sugar containers in passenger meals."

Daphne shrugged. "Nuclear physics is easy, but it's impossible to tell the difference between salt and sugar unless you taste it."

Hannah shook her head. Street Whores were enigmatic combinations of wet-dream bodies, sultry passion, incredible strength and dexterity, rainbow and unicorn innocence, and momentary glimpses of godlike brilliance. If Whore Caste was the next step in human evolution, Street Whores themselves might be one step beyond that. "You know, I think you'd make an excellent flight engineer."

Daphne gave her a brilliant smile.

A tone sounded from the overhead speaker.

"But for now? Help me get the drinks ready..."

***

Monica and Terri

This can't possibly fly, Monica thought as they stepped through the wide doors into First Class.

"Jesus," Terri said.

This was less an aircraft cabin and more like an auditorium.

There were no windows - instead the skin of the plane was transparent. Monica could see the terminal and runways beyond.

A large man walked into the cabin and stared. "That's not possible."

His wife, a small brunette woman walked beside him past the comfortable looking seats to the bulkhead.

He put his hand on the skin of the plane. "My God, it's metal. It's transparent metal!"

Hannah stepped out of the galley with a tray of drinks. "Yes, it is. I'm afraid the composition is a closely guarded secret. Blue Pile Driver?"

The man took it. "This plane was made in Cuba?"

Hannah nodded. "Designed and constructed. Over the past few years, a large number of scientists and engineers have immigrated to our island. Our technology has made great strides. Christine, would you like a Pink Panty Soaker? I know you love them."

The small brunette blushed, but she took the cocktail quickly and began to drink.

Diana stepped out of the galley. "If you will all take your seats, we'll be getting underway shortly."

Monica checked her ticket - that was strange. Her ticket seemed to have changed from when she received it at the ticket counter. Almost an hour ago, she could swear the flight number had changed. And now, her seat number was different.

Somehow, she was now seated beside Paul and Terri was seated by David.

Coincidence? She rubbed the paper the ticket was printed on. It felt more like plastic than wood fiber.

She almost jumped as delicate fingers caressed her cheek.

Diana was smiling at her. "They're tiny, disposable computer screens that display what our computer tells them. I took the liberty of placing you and Terri with your new friends. I hope you don't mind?"

Monica found herself licking her lips as she stared at Diana's lips and eyes. She wasn't just a beautiful woman, she was breathtaking.

Diana smiled wider. Then she leaned closer. "I think you should have put 'heteroflexible' on your profile as well. Don't worry. I won't tell," she whispered and then winked.

Monica sat down in her seat. It conformed to her body and immediately warmed to just a fraction of a degree below her body temperature.

She was staring at Diana as the curvy witch walked away.

"Don't let her get in your head," Paul whispered beside her. He took her hand.

Monica blushed and looked at him. "I'm... sorry. She just..."

"You're attracted to her. It's cool."

"No! No, I'm... I like men... you. I like..."

He smiled. "Hey, it's okay. Look, I'm afraid of these witches and the Church as a whole scares the fuck out of me... but I agree with them on a lot of things."

Monica blinked. "Huh? How so?"

Paul shook his head. "The Whore Caste? They believe in 'free love' - sounds silly, like something out of the '50s or '60s but I mean I think they're saying some pretty awesome things. Why is it wrong to love everyone?"

"It's not wrong."

"Yeah, but you're embarrassed because you're attracted to Diana."

"I... I like you. I don't want you to think I'm a lesbian or something."

Paul laughed. "Why do we have to put a label on things? Why do we have to think of ourselves as A or B or C? I think that's what Whore Caste is trying to say: just love each other and let it work itself out."

She shook her head. "For a guy who was doing his best to get me not to go to Cuba, you sure sound like someone who 'drank the Kool-Aid'."

He laughed. "Maybe. All I'm saying is they're bringing about a sexual revolution. Just like in the '60s and '70s. Yeah, I think they're doing it underhanded and dirty. I think the methods are wrong but maybe the philosophy is right."

Monica smiled mischievously. "So, does that mean you're attracted to men?"

He laughed again. "No, it doesn't. I personally find men unappealing. But I wouldn't be down on myself if I did, nor would I judge someone else harshly if they were attracted to men."

She giggled. "Oh, so you're just a pig who wants to see me get it on with Diana?"

He squeezed her hand. "No, I'm just a guy who would tell you he could handle your desires and kinks if it meant he could spend any time, any time at all, around you."

Monica stopped giggling. "Wow... okay. Really?"

He touched her face. "Yeah. Really."

***

Terri sat with David a few feet away from Monica and Paul. "They're really hitting it off, huh?"

David leaned back in his seat. "Yeah, looks that way, huh?"

"He's okay, right? I mean he's not a player, right?" Terri said as she stared at Monica, watching her laugh and flirt and feeling a good deal of jealousy.

"Paul?! Naah, he doesn't have any game at all. Total nerd. He'll probably be proposing to her by the end of the trip." He ran his finger up Terri's yoga pants covered thigh.

Terri bit her lip and watched his finger trace little designs on her thigh.

She was completely turned on, had been since the 'medical exam'. It seemed like the light in the first class cabin was growing steadily brighter.

The crotch of her yoga pants was soaked.

She stared down at David's lap.

There was a very large bulge.

He caught her looking but she didn't care.

David took her hand and laid it on his thigh. "Go on and feel if you like."

She looked around. No one was looking at them.

She pressed her hand into his left thigh and began sliding up.

Terri stopped almost immediately, and her eyes bulged.

Something thick and hard was extending down his pants leg.

Terri was no virgin and had been with a lot of men, but the shape she felt was quite frankly the biggest cock she had ever encountered. "Fuck," she whispered.

"You like that?"

His jeans were turning darker in a circle just a short distance up from his knee.

"Yes," she whispered. She trailed her fingers up. How big was it? Ten inches? More?

He was smiling at her. "Starting to feel pretty turned on, huh?"

Terri nodded slowly as she continued to caress him.

"What say we join the mile high club once this thing gets in the air?"

Terri smiled at him.

***

Nancy and Eric

"Goddamn, these drinks are strong!" Eric said as he looked out the 'window' wall.

"You've had three of them," Nancy laughed. She had put away two 'Pink Panty Soakers' sitting here on the plane, and she had lost track of the number she had downed in the bar.

"They're... having an interesting effect," he mumbled. He looked down at his pants.

Nancy giggled. Her husband was hard and tenting his khakis. "Want me to take care of that?"

"With people watching?" Eric asked red-faced.

"Why not? I hear they have full-blown orgies back in coach. Why not a hand job in first class? Or maybe... some oral?" She giggled. She nodded at the seats beside them. "Not stopping Christine and Don..."

They had a blanket across their laps. Don was leaning back in his seat and every once in a while you could see that Christine's hand was moving up and down underneath.

"Jesus," Eric whispered and smiled. "Looks like fun."

Nancy nodded. "Excuse me, Hannah?"

The Amazon brunette was passing out even more Blue Pile Drivers and Pink Panty Soakers to the next row. She looked toward Nancy. "Need something, luv?"