"The Server"

By Orestes

orestesw@yahoo.com
ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Orestes

***

   " 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.

***

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