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Subject: {ASSM} <2ndS> The Server by Orestes (MC MF FF Humil)
Date: Sun, 25 Feb 2001 07:10:04 -0500
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<1st attachment, "The Server by Orestes.txt" begin>

"The Server"

By Orestes

orestes007@hotmail.com
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Orestes

***
This work is copyright (c) 2001 by Orestes. You may  download and keep 
copies for your personal use as long as all author related information and 
this paragraph remain on the copies. I don't mind if you send it along to a 
friend, repost it to an appropriate newsgroup, or post it to your 
adult-oriented web site, so long as you don't charge money for any of these 
activities. No alteration of the contents is permitted.
***

   " You can't ask me that question."

   " Wha... ?"

   " You aren't allowed to ask me my marital status. The law is clear. You 
can't discriminate based on whether I'm married or not. "

   " For goodness sake, no. It was just a casual question, dear. One of the 
other girls does some babysitting work, and..."

   " Don't call me dear. I don't think I want you calling me 'one of the 
girls' either. "

   The woman conducting the interview was more than a little surprised by 
the way this was turning around on her. Heather watched the woman's reaction 
carefully. There's a real difference, she knew, between the simple flush of 
anger that came naturally from a confrontation, and the near panic that came 
upon an ill prepared interviewer when hit with an ambush. Of course, that 
was the whole point.

   " Now, I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just trying to hire a 
waitress... "

   Heather shook her head slowly, causing the interviewer to lose her 
sentence in the air between them.

   " Do you have any idea how demeaning it is to be called a 'waitress', 
with all the cultural baggage the term brings with it ?"

   " Oh, hell, you can't be serious. All right, we'll call you a 'server' 
then. Is that any better ?"

   " No. No, it's not, " Heather wouldn't concede any point, however small, 
right now - not while she still had the upper hand. "Just look at the root 
of the word. 'Serve', 'servile', 'servitude'... no, I don't think that will 
do. Not at all. "

   Now the woman was speechless. Her gold coloured plastic name badge 
proclaimed her the restaurant manager, but Heather knew what that really 
meant in a small business like this one. This woman wouldn't know the labour 
laws. She had no corporate human resources department to back her up. Hell, 
her employee records were probably stored in a shoe box beneath the office 
desk.

   Damn. It was almost too easy. Heather pulled out her business card, and 
ended the false interview.

   " I'm Heather Duffy, of the Primrose Foundation. We're a private watchdog 
group. Our goal is to protect the rights of victimized women in the 
workplace. "

   " No one here is victimized, " the woman spat back. " Ask any of the 
gir... I mean, uh ... women who work here. This is a family run business. "

   " It doesn't matter what the women who work here think. Many women are 
victimized without knowing it. That's why we exist. Labour laws are too 
passive... waiting for complaints to trigger state action... meanwhile, 
sexist language and attitudes thrive in everyday business. "

   If the woman was listening to her instincts, she would end this quickly. 
It could all go away. Just a few minor cosmetic changes to the way she did 
business, and a generous contribution to the Foundation, and they would 
leave her alone. If not, well, it never hurt the Foundation to go on a 
publicity campaign. This kind of thing always drew media attention.

   It was a win/win. For the Primrose Foundation, that is.

   What did these little shakedowns accomplish ? Heather had her misgivings. 
It's not that she disagreed entirely with the ideology of the Foundation. It 
was just that, in most cases, these businesses were only guilty of minor 
infractions. In the end, the women who worked here would only come out of it 
with a new job title. Waitress. Server. Whatever. The job was still the 
same.

   Field Auditor. That was Heather's recently acquired title. The impressive 
new title and salary kept her from sympathizing much with the targeted 
businesses. Interviews like these helped pay for the position she held. 
Besides, the money they raised through audits like this one allowed the 
Foundation to pursue larger investigations. That was the real goal. Heather 
couldn't wait to land one of those high-profile assignments.

***

   The roar of the jet engines rattled the clutter on the dashboard of 
Thumper's Volkswagon. The planes came in so low here, Heather almost felt 
like she could have reached out and touched the extended landing gear. Two 
other cars were parked on this side of the chain link fence that blocked off 
the actual runway. One car pounded with techno music. The other one had 
windows fogged from the extended make-out session of the occupants.

   " I'm so happy for you, " Thumper told her co-worker. " Donna has been 
eager to start this investigation for a while. She must think highly of you. 
"

   Heather blushed. Donna was the driving force behind the Primrose 
Foundation. Thumper and Heather had both been hired at the same time, by a 
recruiter who visited them on campus, just before graduation. The two 
friends had jumped at the chance, each for different reasons. For Heather's 
part, it had been the high media profile that the Foundation enjoyed. Its 
political influence was widely acknowledged, and several Primrose 
spokeswomen had gone on to high level government appointments.

   As for Thumper's reasons, Heather could make a guess. Desperation ? It 
wasn't like Thumper's grade point average was going to net her a big salary 
in the private sector. The fact that she was stalled at junior investigator 
didn't seem to bother her. She assisted the other women with research and 
documentation. She played the part of the hippie lesbian, and was great fun 
around the office, but no one really thought of her as a great prospect. The 
moniker "Thumper" was a mystery. Her real name was Theresa.

   " Did you get a chance to look at the file for me ?"

   It felt weird for Heather to take authority over her friend, but that was 
just the way it turned out. Donna had assigned Thumper to assist in this new 
investigation.

   " Yeah. It's a bit of a tough one. Exeter Airlines is a relatively young 
company, founded by the CEO of a media company. At first, they had all the 
usual complaints. Harassment. Poor working conditions. La dee dah..."

   " Mmm hmm... ?"

   " Then there was nothing. Since about two years ago, there hasn't been a 
single problem. Despite some of the lowest wage compensations in the 
industry, the staff turnover is next to nil. "

   " How is the company doing ?"

   " Extremely well. They specialize in executive class travel and charter 
flights. With Flight Attendants who make little money, and pilots on 
contract from other airlines, they're able to keep costs down, despite 
charging some of the highest fares in the nation. "

   Heather reached over and took the file from Thumper's hands. By the faint 
light of the moon, she leafed through the pages. Thumper was right. Donna 
really was eager to get this investigation off the ground. Throughout the 
pages of the file, Donna had highlighted statistical irregularities, and 
made notes in red ink.

   There was one informal interview with a contract pilot that stood out. A 
yellow post-it note dangled from the upper right corner. This was a secretly 
taped conversation from a bar nearby the airport.

- Yeah, I make a some extra money flying with Exeter, but that isn't what 
keeps me coming back... there are other fringe benefits...
- Really ?
- Oh yeah. Those stewardesses are hot as hell. Every pilot I know has a 
favourite.
- I think I met one of them. Dark green uniform ?
- Yeah, and a body to die for... that'd make her an Exeter girl. Always 
eager to please... like this one girl I met in Brussels...

   Heather didn't need to read the details. Donna's post-it note captured 
her reaction perfectly. ' I can't believe there are no harassment charges 
filed. Theresa, double check this ! There has to be something. '

   " So why have we waited until now to take action ?"

   " Like I said, low turnover. The staff just doesn't seem to leave. This 
is the first time in a while that Exeter is doing any hiring. "

   " Hiring...?" Oh, crap. I guess I'm going to be a stewardess. Heather 
shook her head and smiled. Thumper grinned back, and another airplane roared 
overhead, as if on cue.

   " Get used to that noise," said Thumper, somehow cutting through thunder 
of the engines. " It looks like you're going to be doing some travelling. "

***

   With all the dramatic build-up to this assignment, reality was almost a 
let-down. Heather had expected a leering HR guy to mentally undress her in 
the interview. Hell, with the reputation of this airline, she had half 
expected him to pull *it* out, and ask her to demonstrate her job skills.

   Except it wasn't a guy.

   The two women who conducted the interview asked all the right question, 
or, more to the point, they avoided the wrong ones. Heather, in turn, gave 
all the right answers. The women nodded politely while she talked, and 
documented everything she said. They applied standardized testing, and while 
the tests seemed almost excessively detailed, they didn't ask anything 
outside of allowable topics.

   They meticulously checked her school references, and phoned the office 
she worked for part time while in college. Heather cringed at the thought of 
anyone at the accounting office hearing the rumour that she was applying to 
be a stewardess. Nonetheless, this assignment would soon be over, and she 
could set the record straight later.

   When she received the message on her answering machine that she was 
offered a position, Heather didn't know quite how to feel about it.

   The initial orientation session didn't settle anything either. The 
manuals they provided were eminently politically correct. The forms they 
asked her to sign were all standard. There was no coercion. There was no 
threatening behaviour from the interviewers. There was nothing here that the 
Primrose Foundation could use.

   So, a week later, when Heather was going in for training at the Exeter 
headquarters building, she had set aside any illusions of this being a quick 
investigation. She was even having doubts about whether there was anything 
to find. Maybe Exeter was just very good at keeping its employees satisfied, 
and settling disputes before they became major problems.

   And the rumours ?

   Hot air, maybe ? The interviews that had been secretly collected from the 
contract pilots of other airlines all depicted the Exeter stewardesses as 
vacant, witless sluts, who cared more about their shade of lipstick than 
about equality in the workplace. Maybe there was something to the rumours. 
Maybe not. Heather couldn't discount the possibility that the pilots were 
just bragging to boost their own reputations.

   Especially when she was introduced to the new class of recruits.

   " Hi, I'm Robbi. I'm working towards my BA in political science, and I'm 
here because my guidance counsellor told me about the scholarship program 
Exeter provides to employees on their co-op program. "

   " I'm Janine. I've been out of the workforce for a while to raise my 
children. Now that they're in school, and Ronald is working from home, I 
thought I'd give this a chance. "

   Far from the image of dim-witted girls who were hired because they looked 
good in a skirt, and giggled when they talked, these women seemed 
deliberately chosen as intelligent, well-spoken women, of diverse 
backgrounds.

   Perhaps it was true that most of the women here were fairly attractive, 
but they weren't shaped like supermodels either. Some of these women were 
even what you might call overweight.

   In fact, without trying to be arrogant, Heather knew that she was 
probably the most attractive girl in the group. No, she wasn't exactly thin, 
but she was tall,  young, and had always done well with the guys. One by 
one, each of the new hires stood up and introduced herself to the group of a 
dozen recruits. When they were done, one of the interviewers took her place 
in the front of the room.

   " I want to welcome you all to Exeter airlines. I've met each of you 
before, and I have to say, I have a good feeling about this group. My name 
is Diane. You've also met Wendy, our training facilitator. We'll be taking 
you through the most advanced training program in the industry. "

   " But before we get started, I just want you all to know that I'm here to 
support you in every way possible. My office is just down the hall, and my 
door is always open. Even after you've come through the training program, if 
you ever want to talk, I'm always available. "

***

   " Shut up, Thump. "

   " I didn't say a thing, " Thumper tried her best innocent voice, but her 
grin said it all.

   " I just got home, and I haven't had a chance to change yet, " Heather 
shuffled her feet self-consciously at her doorway, while Thumper mentally 
photographed the uniform she was wearing. " What, were you waiting outside 
?"

   " Yeah. Donna wants an update. Can I come in ?"

   Heather shrugged and walked away from the open door while her friend let 
herself in.

   " You hungry ? I could order us some Chinese..." Thumper offered.

   " Nah, I'm still a bit queasy from today. "

   " C'mon, hand me the phone. You've got to eat. Christ, are you losing 
weight ?"

   It was an easy surrender. Heather wasn't in the mood to argue with her 
friend about it. It wouldn't do any good anyhow. Thumper could be such a 
pest sometimes. And it wouldn't even be a surprise when Thumper suddenly 
*realized* that she was out of cash, and Heather ended up paying the bill. 
They'd played this game often in college. Heather just smiled and shook her 
head.

   " So tell me about it. You said you were queasy... I thought you guys 
weren't flying yet. "

   " No, but I feel like I have. There's this training simulator that's just 
like the passenger cabin of one of their planes... the whole thing is on 
hydraulics, and we wear headsets to give us realistic flight scenarios..."

   " I guess that makes sense. "

   " I suppose, but it gets a little tiring. For the last week, we've been 
doing it non-stop. Most of the group pretends to be passengers, and a couple 
of the trainees at a time get to go through the pre-flight routine and 
emergency procedures. "

   " And how long do the simulations last ?"

   Forever. Or nearly. Heather's head was filled with the constant 
background chatter on the headsets.

   " Um, well, we start at seven o'clock each day. What time is it now ?"

   " It's nearly midnight, " Thumper shook her head incredulously, " are you 
telling me that you do these simulations for over twelve hours a day ? "

   " No. It couldn't be that long." Could it ? The math eluded her.

   " Do you get breaks for lunch ?"

   " They serve food on the flights... as practice. "

   " Christ, Heather... no wonder you're losing a bit of weight. I'd be 
puking my guts out too if all I ever got to eat was airline food. "

   " I am a bit hungry. Hey, do you want to order some food ?"

   Thumper paused.

   " I already did, right when I got here. Remember ?"

   " Oh yeah. Sorry, Thump. I'm just tired from the training. "

   " You should be. That's way too much. In fact, it might be our first 
break in the investigation. They can't make you work that long..."

   The investigation. Right. Heather tried to keep her head in the 
conversation.

   " Actually, the overtime was all voluntary. I think we all signed a 
waiver after the first training session. "

   " What ? You signed something without passing it by the Foundation 
lawyers ? Do you have a copy ?"

   It was stupid, Heather knew. An embarrassing silence gave her answer. 
Thumper pressed on.

   " Do you at least remember what it said ?"

   " Not really, " Heather answered sheepishly. " Everyone just went ahead 
and signed it. It wasn't too important. The way they explained it, 
stewardesses have to work long hours on transcontinental flights anyhow, so 
we might as well put in similar sessions in the simulator. It sort of makes 
sense. Besides..."

   " Mmm hmm ?"

   " Well, we'd been at it all day, and I really needed to go to the 
washroom, and all the other girls were signing theirs, so I knew there would 
be a line up at the washroom. "

   Heather raised her eyes from the floor for a moment to catch her friend's 
reaction.

   " Don't look at me that way, Thump. It really wasn't important. I was 
just tired. "

   " Okay, but we'll have to leave it out of the report. Donna would have a 
fit. "

   Donna. Heather knew the woman's reputation. She was meticulous. Her focus 
was undivided. She would have no sympathy for screw-ups, no matter how 
minor.

   " So, how do these simulations go, then ? How do they fill up over twelve 
hours of training. "

   " It always starts the same. On our headsets, we can hear the background 
chatter of the pilots and the ground crew. They even include the noise of 
the passengers. Then we do the pre-flight checks. "

   I'm sorry, sir... you'll have to put away your lap top. Yes, sir... I'll 
have your drink ready as soon as we take off. A pillow, ma'am ? Sounds nice. 
I could go for a nap right about now too...

   " It's funny... we all know the routine so well, we know the exact tone 
of voice to use when making the announcements..."

   Emergency exits are located...(in the metered rhythm of a memorized 
poem)...  in the unlikely event of a water landing... and I didn't even pack 
a swimsuit... and other silly crap that popped into Heather's head through 
the boredom and background noise.

   " Then, when the cabin begins to move, I get this queasy feeling. It's 
weird, how they can simulate even the feelings. It sinks right to the pit of 
my stomach. I feel nausea as the cabin shakes and tilts through the 
take-off. The background noise makes me feel a little sick, and then... 
well, sometimes I black out for a minute... or I close my eyes... or 
something...but it all gets better. "

   Then the routine. Another drink ? Yes, I'm wearing Chanel no. 5... I'm 
glad you noticed. The washroom is at the front of the cabin sir... yes, I'll 
show you where it is. Don't worry about that at all, it's just a little 
spill... I'm sure my blouse will dry...

   " Sometimes, if I'm a passenger, I'll sleep a while. The trainers don't 
seem to mind that. "

   Heather tried to resist it in the last few sessions. It was just too 
embarrassing. Maybe it was the odd dynamics of the situation, but Heather 
always seemed to end up with erotic dreams. Somehow, all the while, she was 
aware of the pleasant buzz of the headphones. Then, as the dream came near 
its climax, she would wake up, and catch herself making little noises, and 
gyrating her hips, and practically sitting in the lap of the girl beside 
her.

   She didn't tell Thumper that part. She didn't say how the other girls 
would giggle when she woke up, and she would sit there, red faced, and 
sexually frustrated for the following hours. That was private. Thumper 
didn't need to know.

   " I think the Chinese is here, " Theresa interrupted her co-worker's 
thoughts.

   Heather stood to get some plates, realizing once again that she was still 
wearing her stewardess uniform. She had four pairs of the green and white 
uniform, all provided free of charge by the airline. For the past couple of 
nights, she had been so tired, she had collapsed into bed still wearing the 
skirt and jacket. The ways she was feeling right now, it would be night 
number three.

   Thumper dug unceremoniously into the chow mein noodles, and continued her 
questions with her voice muffled by the food.

   " So that's it ? Just flight after flight ? That must be mind numbing. "

   " It is. Then, every once in a while, they do an emergency scenario. The 
queasy feeling comes back as the cabin shakes and shudders, and I can hear 
the pilots in my headset, going through their emergency protocols. You 
wouldn't believe how frightening it is. I don't know how they make it so 
real. By the time we're done, I'm in a cold sweat, and sometimes I even 
black out a bit again. "

   " You know, this all sounds a little suspicious. "

   " I don't follow you. " Heather surveyed the contents of the Chinese food 
bag, and settled on a bowl of steamed rice. Her stomach wouldn't allow 
anything else.

   " You remember all the psychology classes we took together. Hell, you 
tutored me on most of them. This might be nothing, but it seems to me that 
the techniques they're using are designed to make you vulnerable to 
indoctrination. "

   " Indoctrination ? That's silly. It's training, that's all. "

    " Think about it. Sleep deprivation. Fatigue. Hunger. Hours and hours 
spent in the same environment, repeating the same exercises over and over 
again. These are the same techniques that religious cults and radical 
political groups use to indoctrinate new members. "

   " It's also the same techniques that the military uses to *train* new 
recruits. Boot camp. Yes, it's a little tiring. My head hurts just thinking 
about it. But as long as we've all agreed to the training, there's nothing 
sinister going on here. "

   " Maybe not... but I still don't feel right about it. Tell ya what... I 
want to do a little investigation on my own. Nothing major. Just give me the 
names of the other girls in your class, and get me a recording of the 
training material. I'll check it out. "

   " Do what you want, but I don't want Donna hearing about this. It's too 
far out. "

   " Agreed. "

***

   Montreal. Again.

   Was this the third or the fourth time Heather had ended her day here ? 
She wasn't sure. It had all been a blur since the training began. After two 
weeks in the simulator, she had been excited to finally get a chance to 
begin the investigation in earnest.

   " We'll start you on some of the shorter runs," the stern interviewer, 
Diane, had explained. "You'll return here every few days for follow-up 
assessments. "

   It was a welcome taste of freedom after the rigid discipline of the 
initial training, and it didn't take long for the new flight attendants to 
take advantage of it. For freedom, Montreal was exactly the right city. The 
stories of their off-duty antics came back to her in fragments, and Heather 
recorded them all meticulously in her journal.

    Heather was doing her best to distance herself from the impulsive 
lifestyle the other recruits were adopting, but it was difficult. She had 
been staying in a little bed and breakfast near the Ville Veux, and tried to 
keep herself on task. The investigation. She had to stay focused. The other 
girls stayed in a downtown apartment they had rented together.

   The restlessness was to be expected. It was almost a welcome friend, 
where there were no others. She missed her apartment. She missed her cat (of 
all the silly things). She even missed Thumper's company. Montreal was where 
the restlessness hit Heather the worst. Here, she was anonymous in a strange 
city, which brought to mind all sorts of possibilities. There was an 
irrepressible energy to this place.

   Despite her better judgement, Heather ended this particular day on a 
drinking binge with the other recruits. It was a stupid mistake. The 
invitation had come casually, and Heather had thoughtlessly accepted. It was 
Janine, after all. Janine the housewife. Janine with three kids. Janine the 
conservative...

   ...with a slice of lemon in one hand, and a salt shaker dancing clumsily 
in the other.

   This corner booth at some random night club was a meeting place for six 
of the new recruits. Maybe it was just the setting, but they all seemed 
different here. There was Janine, of course, who was anticipating her fifth 
shot of tequila. Robbi, the college girl, was wearing a tight little tank 
top that showed off the weight she had lost in the last few weeks.

   Nora and Elaine were black girls, who had abducted a French Canadian guy 
from the crowd, and were swapping his tongue between them. Lillian, the 
youngest in the new class of flight attendants, was sitting beside Heather 
tonight.

   " Do you like it ?" She was lifting her shirt unabashedly to show Heather 
her new tattoo. The orchids peaked out from beneath the waistband of her 
panties, leaving Heather to guess how far down the flowery display extended.

   " Nice. " It really was. It was also a little troubling. Everything was 
new. It was almost contagious. New clothing. Heather was guilty of it 
herself. What else was she going to do on her restless evenings alone ? 
Shopping was a nice distraction. New tattoos... a few of the girls had 
partaken. New friends. New lovers.

   New bodies. That one was hard to miss. Most of the class, Heather had 
noticed from the beginning, had started a little overweight. Maybe it was 
just the intensity of the training, but most everyone had dropped some 
weight. The new clothing accentuated the changes.

   As rumours went, one of the girls had made an appointment for breast 
enlargement surgery. Surprisingly, Exeter Airline's extended medical plan 
agreed to cover the procedure. Once that rumour got around, there was all 
sorts of talk from the other girls. Hell, free cosmetic surgery... what 
woman didn't have a few minor flaws she'd like taken care of ?

   Heather was tempted in a way she would never have expected, and her 
resistance felt artificial. Just a couple of days previously, she had gone 
on a little shopping spree of her own, and surprised herself by buying some 
coloured contact lenses. Sparkling green eyes had been her gift to herself. 
They were an indulgence, she knew, but it felt so good.

   What was the harm in enjoying it all a little bit ? A little flirting. A 
little drinking.

   Someone handed her another random shooter, and after only the briefest of 
hesitations, the alcohol tasted her lips.

   The music of the dance club buzzed in her ears, and the murmur of mixed 
French and English settled somewhere in the background. It was all 
exhilarating, and Heather felt suddenly very silly for isolating herself 
these past days from the other girls. What did it accomplish, staying alone 
in a rented room, writing all of her reports ? It was pointless. This was 
where she needed to be.

   Janine offered her a taste of tequila, and the wrist of her hand, 
sprinkled with salt. Heather took both, and was surprised by the sweet 
warmth of Janine's skin against her lips. The other girls laughed as she 
lingered a little too long there, licking and sucking at the salt.

   Lillian was just about to show everyone the rest of her tattoo when a 
group of guys joined their table. They were instantly familiar. Janine 
whispered in Heather's ear.

   " These guys fly with us all the time. They work as software engineers in 
a local firm. I invited them out tonight too. They are beautiful, No ?" She 
said this last part in an imitation of the French accents the guys spoke 
with.

   Heather giggled despite herself, and then tried to stifle it. It was just 
too funny, the way Janine said it.

   They are beautiful, No ?

   Beautiful and naughty. Another guilty pleasure in a night full of them. 
Claude was hers.

   She sat on his lap when there was no more room in the booth, and let his 
hands wander to where they felt good. She could taste the cigarettes on his 
lips probably the same way he could taste the tequila on hers.

   They all left together, stumbling through the surprisingly active late 
night streets of the city until they reached the apartment all the girls 
shared. Heather knew it was useless to think this out. It was probably a 
mistake. Even through the alcohol, she knew that much.

   It was just so hard to resist the way it felt. Amongst these girls, she 
felt sexy, and alive, and was the centre of attention. She traded kisses 
with Claude, and Glen, and even with Lillian, who's tattoo was no longer a 
mystery to anyone.

   " My room, " Lillian whispered breathlessly. Claude and Glen followed. 
Heather stumbled through the darkness to join them.

   She entangled with someone on the bed. It wasn't Claude. There was no 
taste of tobacco on these lips. Was it Glen? Lillian? Heather didn't care. 
It just felt good to be touched this way. It was a slow, grinding pace that 
left every nerve in her body tingling.

   In this long make-out session, Heather could feel her clothing being 
stripped away. Then there was bare flesh against hers, and more sensations 
for her hungry lips.

   " Mmmm, " Lillian's groan of pleasure was muffled. Heather could see 
through the half-light of the room that the younger girl was taking a cock 
in her mouth. It seemed so natural.

   Heather rolled on top of the other guy, and pinned him down to the bed. A 
taste of his lips told her it was Claude again. His tongue danced in her 
mouth as she reached down and freed his cock from his underwear. It had been 
since college that Heather had done this, but she was ready. Her body was 
screaming it.

   She pushed her body back against his, and squirmed against him until her 
was buried within her pussy.

   " Oh, god, I'm all yours, " she told him. It didn't matter that he was a 
complete stranger. It didn't matter that he was a passenger of her airline. 
It felt good to give in. It felt good to surrender for a moment to her 
urges.

   It was all motion now, as she rotated her hips against him.

   " Hey, Glen, this is a hot one, No ? "

   " Yeah "

   Heather barely noticed that a bedside lamp was on now, and Glen was 
watching her ride his friend, with Lillian still worshipping his cock. A 
little orgasm rocked through her body as Claude's penis found just the right 
spot within her.

   " Oh, man, you should feel this... the way she moves... ungh..."

   Glen nodded, and pulled Lillian's head from his lap, leaving her gasping 
for breath. His engorged prick glistened with her saliva. He crawled across 
the bed, taking a position behind Heather for a better view. Having another 
man behind her only intensified the feelings for Heather. She knew how it 
must look from his position. Her ass and pussy pumped back and forth, 
swallowing his friend's cock greedily. She felt so exposed.

   " She's sweet... you mind if I join in ?"

   Claude grunted his assent.

   A new set of hands were on Heather's hips now. She looked up towards 
Lillian, who lounged a few feet away, rubbing the crotch of her panties. She 
eyed the scene hungrily. Lillian gave her a wink.

   " Mmmmph..." Heather cried out, but her mouth was occupied with Claude's 
tongue. Glen was holding her in place now, and pushing his slick cock 
against her rear hole.

   Lillian crawled closer now, and planted her lips against her co-worker's 
cheek. " It's okay, honey... let him in... god, you're so sexy... I bet 
it'll feel good... come on..."

   The younger girl continued to whisper encouragement as Glen pushed in 
further.

   " Just relax... just a little more now... he's almost there..."

   Heather's ass was on fire. Glen's cock stabbed back and forth in jerky 
little motions, each one burying him further within. Finally, with a 
satisfied groan, he slapped his body against her rear.

   Lillian pulled Heather's lips to her own, and kissed her deeply. " How 
does it feel ?" she asked, between kisses.

   " Full... too full... "

   Both of the guys began to push again now, sliding themselves into the 
stewardess who was pinned between them. The mixture of sensations was 
overwhelming for Heather. I shouldn't be enjoying this, she argued silently 
to herself. There's something wrong.

   Heather knew she shouldn't be enjoying the humiliation of the situation. 
It was nothing that had ever appealed to her before, even in her most secret 
fantasies. But now, being a piece of meat shared between two strangers in a 
strange city... it felt... right. Her body being used this way, almost 
against her will... it was fitting... it was exactly what all the other 
girls had been doing since the training sessions. It was what she had been 
resisting.

   Her hips began to rotate again, sending waves of pleasure back through 
her body.

   " This is so damned sexy... " Lillian told her, kissing her lips deeply 
one more time, and then jumping up from the bed excitedly.

   " Hey, Janine... " she called out from her bedroom door. " You've gotta 
see this. "

   Heather's face flushed again with the shame of being watched by the other 
girls. She could hear giggling at the doorway behind her as they gathered. 
It was a sickening sensation... almost like the queasy feeling she sometimes 
got during the flight simulation. In another way, though, it felt good...

   ... like she really...

   ... belonged.

***

   Passing over the notebooks felt like a betrayal.

   This is what I was here to do in the first place, Heather had to remind 
herself. She had lost sight of that over the last week, even to the extent 
that her recent notes were brief and lacking specific details. She felt bad 
for handing in a report that detailed what the other girls did with the 
passengers, the pilots, and the ground crew, while she conveniently omitted 
her own sins.

   Thumper leafed through them slowly.

   " Do we have enough ?"

   " I think so... but..."

   " But what ...?"

   Thumper closed the notebooks. There was excitement in her voice. Heather 
knew when Thumper was up to something, and this time, it was something big.

   " There's no doubt that Exeter is turning a blind eye to the behaviour of 
its employees. The policies are in place, but they don't do anything to 
enforce them. Now you're telling me that the airline has agreed to cover 
cosmetic surgery through its medical plan... over all, there's plenty here 
to work with..."

   Heather waited for the other shoe to drop.

   " ...but I think we can get them on something much bigger. When you 
brought back the recording of the training simulator, I had it analyzed. I 
paid out of my own pocket, mind you, because you didn't want the foundation 
involved. "

   " And ?"

   " There's definitely something there. Complex information is imbedded 
into the background noise. "

   " What are you saying ?"

   " You really aren't following me, are you ? You have no idea what I'm 
talking about. "

   Heather flushed with anger. Thumper never used to talk to her this way. 
She continued.

   " Which is exactly my point. I noticed it last time we met too. You had 
troubles concentrating. You've been getting worse as time goes on. Towards 
the end of your notes, you have a hard time stringing a sentence together. "

   " I've been busy..."

   " You've been brainwashed. Or something close to it. The psychological 
stresses of the simulator seem to be just a starting point to make you 
vulnerable to the suggestions embedded in the background noise. "

   " I can't believe it... it's just too..."

   " You might not notice all of the changes in yourself, but look at the 
other girls from your class of recruits. You gave me their names last time, 
and I've done a little investigating. Since being hired by Exeter just over 
a month ago, two of these women have left their husbands..."

   Janine. Erica.

   "... one has dropped out of college..."

   Robbi.

   "... three have had breast enlargements... "

   Cindy. Elaine. Margaret.

   " ... and two have been arrested for public indecency. "

   Lillian. Jerri.

   God, it was a little overwhelming when Thumper put it all together like 
that.

   " Not to mention all of the activities you've recorded in your 
notebooks..."

   And definitely not to mention the activities Heather decided to leave 
*out* of the notebooks.

   " ...do these sound like the same women who you described as..." she 
leafed through the initial reports, "ah, here it is... 'intelligent, 
well-spoken women of diverse backgrounds' ?"

   " I don't know, " was the only response that Heather's lips seemed ready 
with.

   " Yes you do. Somewhere in there, you're seeing this as clearly as I am. 
It's just back there somewhere behind all this crap they've inserted into 
your head. "

   " Maybe you're right..." Heather didn't feel like arguing. It was too 
much effort to resist Thumper's logic. "Maybe we should let Donna know 
what's going on. "

   " Not yet. I need a little more proof. We don't have enough on the 
initial tape to decipher the suggestions. If we keep you in just a few more 
weeks, and you can get me another couple of recordings, we'll be able to 
crack this thing wide open... fuck, this'll be the biggest thing that ever 
hit the Primrose Foundation..."

   " But, " Heather struggled for the words, " if what you're saying is 
true, aren't I... getting..."

   " Don't worry about it. "

   Okay.

   " And what do we tell Donna ?" Heather was having trouble understanding 
Thumper's plan.

   " If we told her what evidence we have, she'd pull you out. We have to 
keep on telling her that we haven't found enough evidence yet. It'll buy us 
some time..."

***

   Heather felt silly and nervous, waiting for Diane in her office.

   She felt silly for even requesting to see the HR manager. The woman was 
much too busy to be bothered. She considered leaving, and probably would 
have, if she hadn't left her name with the receptionist.

   Damn.

   Why had she even come here ? It was stupid. She didn't really have a 
reason.

   " Hi Heather, how are you today ?"

   Heather jumped a bit in her seat. Why did this woman make her so nervous 
? There was a time when she would go into meetings like this one with such 
self-confidence.

   Right now, she could barely choke out her words.

   " I'm okay, I guess. "

   Wishy washy. Pathetic. " I mean, " she continued. " I feel a little dumb 
for bothering you..."

   " Nonsense, " the woman cut her off. " I told you from the beginning, my 
door is always open. What's on your mind ?"

   Not the reaction she had expected. In truth, she didn't know what to 
expect.

   " I don't know. "

   Diane had this controlled manner that had unnerved Heather even from the 
first interview with Exeter. She sat behind her desk motionless, with a 
quizzical, almost amused expression on her face. She cocked her head just 
slightly to one side after a minute.

   " Okay. Maybe I can help you out. Let's go back over the past few days. " 
Her tone of voice made Heather blush. It reminded her of the way someone 
would talk when humouring a small child.

   Heather drew a blank. She bit her lower lip, and lowered her eyes, 
knowing that the woman was still staring at her.

   " How about yesterday, " Diane suggested. " I hear you had a bit of a 
problem on your flight back from Los Angeles. "

   Oh god, how did she know ? Heather got that queasy feeling again.

   " Not really... I mean..."

   It was an episode she would rather forget.

   " I'd like to hear about it, " again with the measured tone. Heather felt 
like she was talking to a psychiatrist or something. Being probed. Analyzed.

   " It's not much. It's just... well, there's this girl I went to school 
with..."

   " College ?"

   " College. "

   Diane opened the file on her desktop. Funny, that. Heather didn't 
remember Diane taking the time to retrieve any files. How did she have it 
ready ?

   " I remember now. We checked out your transcript when we hired you. You 
did quite well in college, didn't you?"

   " Mmm hmm. " Heather nodded.

   " And this girl, " the interviewer prompted.

   " She was a class mate. Arlene Medsger. We took a lot of the same 
classes. "

   " How were her grades ?"

   Diane knew just the right questions. " Good. Very competitive. "

   " So what happened yesterday ?"

   " Well, it's just that... we were always rivals in college... and we 
weren't exactly on good terms... and when I saw her yesterday, it made me 
feel..." she couldn't complete the sentence. " I mean, here she is, just a 
few years out of college, and she's flying executive class with her 
colleagues. You wouldn't believe how nicely she was dressed..."

   Diane nodded.

   " And there I am, in my uniform, serving drinks and feeling ... inferior. 
As soon as I saw her, I just started feeling queasy, and I got all 
flustered, and by the time she noticed me, my face was red, and she could 
see how embarrassed I was. "

   " Embarrassed ?"

   It was probably the wrong thing to say to the HR manager of the airline, 
Heather realized, too late.

   " Not really embarrassed, " Heather tried to back-track. " It's just, 
well, the way she looked at me... I knew what she was thinking. "

   " What was she thinking ?"

   " That I didn't measure up. She was smug about it, like I had decided to 
put my brain on the shelf, and take some mindless job, because I didn't have 
what it takes to be successful. "

   " And you think she's wrong ?" Diane taunted playfully from the other 
side of the desk, frustrating Heather even further.

   " Of course she's wrong, " Heather shot back defensively. " It's not fair 
of her to think of me that way. I'm not just some dumb stewardess. I don't 
really belong..."

   Heather stopped herself just in time. One step further, and she would 
have blown the whole investigation. Diane watched her carefully, with a 
continuous half-smile on her lips. It was like she enjoyed these kinds of 
meetings.

   " Did she say anything ?"

   " Not at first, but I saw her whisper something to the guys sitting 
beside her, and the way they looked at me made me feel even more 
self-conscious. I was really trying to ignore it, but every little task I 
did seemed to amuse them. I would fluff a pillow, or fetch someone a drink, 
and Arlene would be watching me...gloating..."

   " How did that make you feel ?"

   Always the right question. Damn. Why did Diane always know the right 
question to ask ?

   " Embarrassed..."

   Not the right answer.

   " and angry..."

   Not quite. Go on, said Diane's insistent gaze.

   " and stupid..."

   And...

   " and... I... and aroused. "

   That was what she wanted. The inappropriate arousal had come to Heather 
frequently since that first night out with the other girls. Even now, 
admitting it out loud was giving her a sexual charge.

   " Really... ? And what did you do about it ?"

   " Nothing. "

   " Don't lie to me. What did you do ?"

   " I... I went to the washroom. I didn't know what to do. I took off my 
bra, and I kept some of the buttons on my blouse undone, and I went out 
again..."

   " That's a dress code violation, my dear. "

   " I know, " Heather was so ashamed.

   " Show me. "

   Then more sternly. " Show me. "

   Heather didn't hesitate again. She shed her jacket as she stood. With 
trembling fingers, she began to unbutton her blouse for the interviewer.

   " Very nice. Have you lost some weight since coming here. "

   " Yes, ma'am. I've been working out too. "

   She reached back and unsnapped her bra, allowing the garment to fall to 
the floor. Her breasts were fully exposed now, her nipples puffed with 
excitement. Under Diane's commanding gaze, she re-buttoned her blouse about 
half way, and put her jacket back on.

   " Bend forward a little... that's enough... did you know that passengers 
can see right down the front of your blouse that way ?"

   " Yes. "

   " But you did it anyway ?"

   Heather nodded. She was angry at herself for allowing this to happen. " 
When I came out, I made a point of offering drinks to Arlene and her 
friends. Then, when I leaned forward to serve them, I could see the look on 
her face. She was surprised at first, and then even more amused than before. 
"

   " What did she think of you now ?"

   " That I wasn't just mindless, but that I was a whore. "

   Diane stood, and walked around her desk. Heather stayed in position, 
facing the desk, and bent forward. Diane stood behind the flight attendant, 
and placed her hand on the small of her back.

   " What did you do next ?"

   Where was Diane getting her information from ? Heather didn't dare lie.

   " I went back to the washroom, and I rubbed myself a little bit, and I 
thought about the way that Arlene thought I was a dumb whore now. It made me 
angry, and ashamed, and so goddamned horny. And I was thinking about the way 
that Arlene was looking at my breasts, and the way all the other passengers 
were too, and I... "

   " Yes... " Diane's hand pushed against Heather back now, causing her to 
bend forward into the desk. Heather embraced this new position, leaning 
fully forward with her hands at her side, and Diane positioned behind her.

   " I have this little black marker I used for writing things down. And I 
was looking at myself in the mirror, and I just had this impulse... and so I 
used the black marker to write something on the tops of my breasts, so that 
everyone would be able to see it. "

   " That's another dress code violation, you know..."

   " Yes. "

   " And you deserve to be punished, don't you ?"

   Heather nodded silently. Diane's left hand lifted the hem of Heather's 
skirt, exposing her bent-forward ass. Her other hand began to administer the 
punishment.

   " Yes. I need to be punished. "

   " What did you write on your tits, Heather ? What did you want all of the 
passengers to see ?"

   " I wrote... god, it was so bad... I wrote 'blow job, $5.00' on each of 
my tits, so all the guys could see it. I was so embarrassed by what I did, 
that I tried not to bend forward anymore. But I knew it was there, and it 
made me so hot... and I guess I just lost my willpower..."

   " Did anyone take you up on it ?"

   " Yes. "

   " Who ?"

   " One of Arlene's friends. He handed me a five dollar bill on his way to 
the washroom. Then, with everyone watching, I followed him in there. I can't 
believe I did that. "

   " That was very bad, wasn't it ?" The spanking was becoming more intense. 
Diane's hand was warm from the blows, and landed the most painful swats 
against Heather's rear.

   " Yes. I was a very bad girl. When he was done, we both came out of the 
washroom, and everyone was staring at me. I couldn't even look in Arlene's 
direction. A few minutes later, I noticed that the five dollar bill he gave 
me was sticking out of the waistband of my skirt, and that everyone could 
see it..."

   " How did that make you feel ?"

   " Like a cheap whore. And everyone knew it. I don't know what made me do 
it. Then another passenger passed me a bill on his way to the washroom. I 
didn't know what to do..."

   " Yes, you did. " Diane's hand was being kind now. She stopped the 
spanking, and slipped a couple of fingers beneath Heather's panties. The 
stewardess gasped when the woman found her spot.

   " Yes, I did. I went in with him. And then with another. Then a woman 
gave me a five. Each time I came out, I had to straighten my clothing, and 
my hair was more of a mess, and I had another bill sticking out of my skirt. 
"

   " How much money did you make, all together ?"

   " Aaaah, " Heather whimpered for release, " I made thirty-five dollars, 
ma'am. "

   " You know that it's against policy to accept tips, don't you ?"

   " Yes, ma'am. "

   " Maybe I should punish you by not giving you an orgasm. "

   " No. Please. I need it. "

   Diane slowed down, but didn't stop. " One more question. Did Arlene ever 
say anything to you ?"

   " Yes... mmmm... but not much... she just... ungh... when she was done 
with her...umnn... drink, she just called me over to take her glass... she 
just said... "waitress"... and I... ungh..."

   Heather's body was out of control. Her hips pushed backwards, and bucked 
against the interviewer's fingers.

   " I... aaaaah... I suddenly got really mad... and I told her... 
mmmnnffff... 'I'm not a waitress'... mmmmm... 'I'm a flight attendant'... 
and she... she just gave me this smug look..."

   " That made you angry ?" Diane's voice was as controlled as ever, in 
contrast to the girl who squirmed on her fingers now.

   " Yes. "

   " But basically, that's what you are now. You're a waitress on an 
airplane. You're just a stewardess. "

   " I'm not... ummmmnnn... I'm not a waitress..."

   " Okay then, how about 'server'..."

   Serve. Servile. Servitude.

   " Oh, god, yes. "

   Servitude. That was perfect.

   " That suits you better ?"

   " Yes... please... please give me an orgasm... please give me permission 
to cum. "

   " In a while, " Diane cruelly took away her fingers. " I can sense that 
you're still a little conflicted about your role here. "

   She circled back around the desk, and placed her wet fingers against 
Heather's lips to be cleaned.

   " I'm going to recommend one more long session in the simulator. After 
that, you'll get your orgasm. "

   Frustrated but eager to please, Heather took the fingers in her mouth, 
and nodded in agreement. It was only one more session, after all.

***

   The remaining Chinese food sat open on the table, and Thumper leaned back 
on the sofa, her belly full, and a contented smile on her face.

   " You did great, Heather. "

   With what ?

   " You don't have a single idea what I'm talking about, do you ? I may as 
well be talking to your cat, or the furniture, or the toilet. "

   There was an insult in there somewhere, Heather suspected.

   " But at least you nod your empty little head, and smile when I talk. 
That's a nice touch. But unless I'm talking about sex, or shopping, or 
looking pretty, it's all lost on you, isn't it ? Or is there still some part 
of you that still understands the whole thing ?"

   " I don't know..." Heather pouted. Maybe she could understand it if she 
tried, but it was too hard work to keep her attention on it. It bothered her 
to hear her friend talk this way. They used to be so close, didn't they?

   " Buying the Chinese food tonight was the least I could do. Heck, you've 
done it often enough for me. And now that I've 'negotiated' my way into some 
money, it only seems fair. "

   " That's really nice of you, Thump. " The familiarity came easily.

   " I actually feel a little badly about the way this all turned out for 
you. To tell the truth, though, I'm not sure I could have helped you anyhow, 
once it all started. It was just a matter of who was going to profit from 
it. I could have turned the information over to the Primrose Foundation, or 
I could take the initiative myself, and do the kind of shakedown I always 
admired you for. "

   Thumper paused in her justification. It was wasted breath, but she needed 
to get it out.

   " No offence, Heather, but I'm just sick of sitting in someone's shadow. 
You were always nice to me and everything. I just never had your talent. 
Donna never took me seriously. I mean, you really can't blame me, can you ? 
"

   Heather shrugged. Primrose Foundation. Donna. The names sounded familiar, 
but she couldn't place them.

   " It's not like I forgot about you. They just weren't willing to 
negotiate you into the deal. For them, you were a guarantee that he Primrose 
Foundation would leave them alone. It would embarrass Donna in any PR 
campaign that she lost one of her own employees to Exeter's recruiters. 
She'll leave them alone now. "

   Theresa shook here head. " I guess I don't want to talk about it anymore. 
I just had to get that all off my chest. God, I'm full. "

   She patted her stomach in demonstration, and then unsnapped the top 
button of her jeans.

   Now there was a signal that Heather understood well. It was a little 
surprising, coming from a friend. They had never been lovers, had they ? No. 
Just college friends. On cue, Heather sank to her knees and began to crawl 
towards Theresa's feet.

   " No, Heather. I was just unbuttoning to let my belly out a bit. I didn't 
want..."

   But her friend was giving her that sexy smile that had always melted 
Thumper's heart.

   " God, you're making this tough on me, aren't you ? I'm going to feel 
guilty about this later. "

   Heather pushed her face up between Theresa's legs, and kissed her thighs 
through the rough material of her jeans.

   " Wait a second, " Thumper stopped her co-worker from going any further. 
" If I'm going to do this anyhow, I might as well, you know...enjoy it...  I 
like it a particular way. Lay on your back. Right there. On the floor."

   Not terribly comfortable, but Heather didn't argue. She waited there 
while Thumper peeled off her jeans and stood above her.

   " Don't you look pretty, in your cute little uniform, and pouty lips. Did 
Exeter pay for those, I wonder ?"

   " I..."

   " Shhhh... just stay where you are, and keep quiet. I want to enjoy this 
moment. "

   Thumper stepped across her friend's body, and knelt down, with her knees 
just above Heather's head. From this position, she was able to reach down, 
and take hold of Heather's hair with her hands. Heather licked her lips. 
Just inches above her, she was surprised to see a little gold ring pierced 
through her friend's clitoris.

   Soon, the warmed metal was on her tongue.

   " God, I always fantasized about having you, " the girl said, letting her 
hips gyrate gently against the stewardess' face. " But you were always too 
imposing. I knew you were straight, and I was afraid to ask you. "

   Heather couldn't have responded if she wanted to. Thumper was pushing 
down with more of her weight now. Her round little belly bounced above 
Heather's eyes, and her thighs pressed firmly to the sides of her head.

   " So I did it with other girls... exactly like this. Always on the floor. 
Always with me sitting above, in control. It makes me feel superior. A lot 
of the time, I would pretend it was you. In those moments, I wasn't just 
your tag-along friend. I was riding your face for my own pleasure. "

   The movement became more insistent now. More urgent. This had definitely 
been a long time coming for Theresa.

   " And it's just like I imagined. Better, even. My only regret is that 
you're not understanding everything I'm saying right now. I wish you would 
try. Somewhere in there, you're so damned bright, and I'd give just about 
anything to see a flash of that in your eyes right now... just for a 
second... please..."

   Her hands gripped Heather's hair tightly, and her body began to shake.

   " Take the ring between your lips now, and hold on tight... I'm just 
about ready..."

   Her body shook in preparation of her climax, and her legs began to pump, 
up and down, up and down. It was all Heather could do to keep the clit ring 
in her mouth. The assault became more violent still, Thumper riding her 
friend's face with her whole body. Her grip on heather's head was 
unbreakable.

   When orgasm finally hit her, she didn't hold back, pounding Heather's 
head up and down, slamming it roughly against the floor.

   " Oh, fuck, Heather... this is what I always wanted from you... 
goddamn... show me that you understand... I want to see it in your eyes..."

   Thump. Thump. Thump.

   Ever so briefly, a glimmer of intelligence did return to Heather's eyes. 
She understood.

   Thump. Thump. Thump.

   Thumper.

   Then it was gone again.

***

   Comments can be forwarded to: orestes007@hotmail.com



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