The Control Strap Page 9

  Brenda nodded her understanding, although she still didn't fully comprehend what her role was supposed to be. There was a small closet by the rear galley where she carefully hung her uniform along with the other girls as they also stripped off their uniforms.

  Glancing around her at the five women in form fitting, revealing latex, Brenda thought, we look like a page in a fetish catalog.

  She sat in the seat Lindsay had indicated and buckled her shoulder harness as she normally would. She wondered who would do the mandatory safety briefing, or if it would be done at all on a bizarre flight like this.

  As Amy, Jackie, and Sammie strapped themselves into their seats, Lindsay dashed up to the front of the plane, but immediately hurried back again. She reached into Brenda's bag and pulled out the ball-gag. “Here,” she said, handing it to Brenda with no further explanation. Then she rushed to the front again.

  The others were casually buckling their gags on again, and Brenda once more followed along. She remembered how Mr. Sanders had adjusted her first attempt at self-gagging, and this time she made sure to pull it as tight as he had. Then she sat back and tried to relax.

  From her seat, she had a clear view of the entrance at the front of the cabin. The pilot and copilot boarded soon after Lindsay took her position across from the hatch. They exchanged a few words and Lindsay pointed back at Brenda. The two pilots strolled back and grinned down at her.

  "So this is the new Ten,” said the pilot.

  "Yeffir,” mumbled Brenda.

  "I wasn't talking to you, bitch."

  Brenda felt the words like a slap and lowered her gaze to the floor. She wasn't used to being called “bitch” to her face, especially by a man in a pilot's uniform.

  The two men said nothing else but spent a few more moments studying her up and down. She sat as still as she could, feeling their intense scrutiny as the blood rushed to her face again.

  When they at last walked away, she exhaled and drew in a deep breath. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding her breath the whole time.

  Up front, Sanders came aboard. Behind him was a portly, older man in a suit. Brenda could scarcely believe her eyes when she saw him. She knew that man! Or knew of him, from newspapers and on TV. She heard Lindsay greet him. “Pleased to see you again, Senator Morrison."

  The Senator grabbed Lindsay and pulled her to him. He held her tight as if he was about to kiss her. “You're looking fine as always, Number Twelve.” He groped her ass as he spoke, pressing her hips against his own.

  After a moment of lecherous thrusting, he abruptly let her go and peered down the length of the cabin. “Now where's that new girl you were telling me about, Tom?"

  "Right this way, Senator."

  Brenda watched the two men approach, wishing she could disappear somehow. Her resolve to just do her job vanished. She'd been right before. She couldn't do this. And yet, she knew she'd do it all the same. She had no choice now.

  She was so intent on Sanders and the Senator, she almost failed to notice the next passenger. He wore the traditional dress and head covering of men from the Middle East. Lindsay curtsied to him, and said, “Your Excellency. Haller Airline is pleased to have you as a passenger today."

  "It will be a pleasure to travel with women who know their place,” he said in perfect English. Then he turned and followed the other two men.

  Next followed three younger men, all in suits. But Brenda couldn't see or hear any more as Sanders now loomed over her. He was soon joined by the ruddy faced politician and the bearded Arab.

  Sanders stood next to her seat and patted her on the head. “This is the one I was talking about."

  "Y'all done good there, Sanders!” bellowed the Senator. “She's a beaut, all right."

  Brenda glanced up to Sanders, then at the two newcomers. Neither of them seemed the least bit surprised that she was gagged. The Senator leaned down, leering at her and panting as if the walk down the length of the plane had winded him. His breath reeked of alcohol and cigarettes.

  He braced himself with his left hand on the back of her seat, and without a word of warning, planted his right hand firmly on her left breast. He squeezed the soft, yielding mound like a drowning man grasping at a life preserver.

  Brenda's muted cry was met with laughter all around. Even the other three men joined in the frivolity as they caught up with the group. Instinctively, she raised her hands to push the Senator away, but Sanders must have anticipated her action, as he grabbed her wrists at once and held them back, allowing the Senator to finish his brutish greeting.

  When he finally released her, the Senator said, “She's a feisty one, Sanders. Not very well trained."

  "Yes, Senator. As I explained, this is literally her first day on the job."

  "Well...” grunted the Senator, as he snatched Brenda's hand away from Sanders and placed it on the firm bulge in his trousers. “We'll break her in real good.” Then he stared down at Brenda, licking his lips. “Y'all hear me, little darlin'? Real good, I say."

  CHAPTER 11: SERVING HORS D'OEUVRES

  Over the intercom, Lindsay cleared her throat. “Ahem. Excuse me, gentlemen, but I have to ask you to take your seats so we can push back and begin our flight."

  Above Brenda, the leering face of Senator Charles Morrison withdrew as he straightened himself up to comply with Lindsay's request. “Hurumph!” he grunted. “I hate to leave such lovely company, but I reckon we do need to buckle in, don't we?” He turned to the Arab man and added, “Sheik, I suggest we hammer out a few more details of that dadblasted legislative package."

  "Yes, I agree,” said the sheik. “At least until we level out,” he added with a wink at Brenda.

  As the men retreated into the main cabin, Brenda sighed in relief. She didn't know where the flight was going, but they couldn't get there fast enough for her. She tried to imagine what she would soon be doing, but still couldn't quite wrap her mind around it. Hopefully, when the time came, she'd just do it.

  Gradually, she became aware that Lindsay was giving the standard safety briefing to the five passengers. Well, thought Brenda, apparently they do have to do the briefing. She perked up, listening to the drone of the standard phrases, welcoming them as an island of the familiar amid this sea of the bizarre.

  Until, that is, what should have been the end of the briefing. At that point, Lindsay continued on with additional instructions, which were unlike anything Brenda could have imagined on a normal flight.

  "As our flight attendant crew serves your needs on today's flight,” announced Lindsay, “you are free to examine us in any manner you choose, with only a few exceptions, as noted in your brochures. Otherwise, right up until we begin our descent into Dulles International Airport, we are your playthings. This, of course, is the Haller Airline advantage.

  "I do, however, wish to call your attention to two specific rules. First, flight attendant control straps must remain in place at all times. If you wish to examine areas covered by the strap, your sales representative, who today is Mr. Sanders himself, will remove it temporarily. And second, even if a strap is removed, penetration is prohibited unless you have a signed acquisition agreement. However, oral and digital manipulations are always acceptable. In either direction.

  "And speaking of acquisitions, your seat pockets also contain information on each of the attendants available for purchase today. If you wish to make an offer, please speak with Mr. Sanders.

  "Now please sit back, relax, and by all means, enjoy today's flight."

  By the time Lindsay finished, Brenda's heart was racing. What did she mean by “acquisition agreement"? Or “available for purchase"? Did they actually intend to sell her? Like some kind of animal? Or a ... slave?

  Maybe, she thought, it was more of a rental arrangement. But that was hardly any better. It simply meant she was being used as a prostitute, despite Mr. Sanders’ denial back in his office. Not that it would surprise her. By now she understood his use of carefully worded phrases that sounded like the
y meant one thing while meaning the opposite.

  He had said, after all, that she wouldn't be touched without consent, meaning his consent. And now, as she recalled their conversation, she realized he had said he didn't think she was a “cheap whore.” Which left open the possibility that he considered her to be a high-priced whore.

  As Brenda's thoughts raced and her anxiety grew, the plane took its position on the runway, and the pilot announced that they were cleared for takeoff. She heard the crescendo of the engine roar and the rumble of the tires as the jet accelerated. Like a nervous new flier, she gripped the armrests white-knuckle tight, and as the nose angled upward she let out an audible moan.

  About a minute later, the other attendants released their seat harnesses. Lindsay and Amy approached Brenda and released hers as well.

  "Come on, Number Ten,” said Lindsay. “We have to get you ready."

  Brenda stood up numbly and let the other two do whatever they needed to do. First, Lindsay unbuckled Brenda's gag and pried the large ball out of her mouth. No sooner had she licked her dry lips though, when Amy replaced the gag with another. This one had the eyehole attached, like the one in the simulator.

  Then Amy hustled her over to the chain dangling from the overhead track, while Lindsay strapped the gag she had just removed from Brenda's mouth into her own. Now, as in the limo, all five attendants were muffled.

  Lindsay next took a couple coils of rope and began binding Brenda's wrists and elbows behind her. The sensation of having her arms rendered useless was beginning to seem almost normal to Brenda. At the same time, Amy attached a short chain to her ankles, ensuring again that every move she made would be tricky.

  Soon, the tray was in place and her gag was tethered to the overhead track, just like in the simulator. They made sure the chain was adjusted short enough to keep her head tilted upward, also as it had been in the simulator.

  But unlike the practice session, her tray was soon filled with real hors d'oeuvres. Brenda would only catch glimpses of the canapés, bruschetta, and caviar. It made her remember how hungry she was, but eating was apparently not in her immediate future.

  Lindsay caught her attention. “Wade hor a figmal,” she mumbled, as she patted Brenda on the ass.

  Brenda took a moment to decipher the gag-talk, and then nodded her understanding. Wait for a signal, she said to herself, just like on the simulator. Then walk, or hobble, out to the cabin and serve. That was her job today.

  The other four girls remained unbound. They returned to their seats and waited until the seatbelt light went out. Then they got up and made their way into the cabin, leaving Brenda in the galley by herself.

  It wasn't long before Sammie hurried back and poured some drinks. And just seconds after she returned to the cabin with them, Brenda heard raucous laughter from the men and squeals, giggles, and moans from the girls.

  But no signal from her strap.

  Several more minutes passed and she began to wonder if they had forgotten about her. Maybe they just weren't hungry, she thought. Yet, she couldn't help feeling ... left out somehow. Useless. Her nervousness about being so helpless and exposed had vanished. She had a tray full of expensive snacks and she wanted to serve them to their clients. She even tried to go out on her own, unbidden, but the chain was locked in place.

  Then she heard the Senator's voice booming over the others. “What about that other blonde? The new gal?"

  Another male voice answered him, but in a softer tone so she couldn't make out the words.

  "What's that?” bellowed the Senator. “Sanders told you she's got the hors d'oeuvre tray! Well, why didn't you say so, boy! Sometimes y'all're dumber'n a box of rocks. Hear me, boy? A box of rocks, I say."

  Brenda had no time to wonder who might be the subject of the Senator's rebuke. At once, her strap buzzed, followed quickly by a click from the overhead track. She tugged at her gag-chain and found it unlocked now. Excitedly, she shuffled forward. By now, she almost felt comfortable with the slightly off balance carriage the combination of hobble chain and high heels forced upon her.

  When she came into view of the rest, she couldn't help pausing to take in the scene in front of her. Sammie was sitting on the Senator's lap. Her wrists were bound now, and the rotund politician was busy fondling the redhead's ample bosom.

  Jackie was hogtied on the floor, and her joined ankles and wrists were pulled upward by a rope attached to one of the eyebolts in the ceiling. The rope had been adjusted so her back was arched in a graceful curve, like a bow pulled taut by an archer. Her belly was all that remained in contact with the floor. The sheik was standing over her, pressing buttons on a remote control and watching her squirm and moan in response.

  Amy was straddling the padded beam with her arms bound overhead. Her ankles were lashed to anchors on the floor, holding her feet off the ground and her legs spread wide. All her weight rested on her pussy. Two of the three younger men who boarded after the Senator and the sheik stood on either side of the helpless Asian beauty. Each held a pile of clothespins, which they were methodically pinning all over her body. Already, there were at least a dozen of the wooden jaws pinching her breasts, tummy, and thighs.

  Lindsay was kneeling next to one of the forward seats where Sanders sat back, casually watching the activities. He idly petted Lindsay's head as his eyes shifted from one scene to the next. Brenda noticed that Lindsay was studying the goings on just as intently as he was.

  The last of the three younger men sat next to Senator Morrison. His flushed cheeks suggested that he had been the one who had told the Senator where Brenda was, only to get a tongue lashing for his trouble.

  As soon as the Senator saw Brenda, he stopped pawing Sammie and let out a loud wolf whistle, adding, “Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit! Get on in here, gal.” He practically threw Sammie off his lap and struggled to his feet before lunging toward Brenda. The tall Texan gawked down at her and, with her face forced skyward by her gag chain, she had no choice by to stare back at him.

  He took several wheezy breaths, and licked his lips. As his gaze meandered downward, he said, “Now ain't them the tastiest morsels I ever laid eyes on.” Brenda could tell he was not referring to the goodies on her tray.

  But he had obviously sized up the food options as well, as he picked up one of the canapés and popped it into his mouth. He smacked his lips. “Mm mm!” The he turned to the red-faced young man. “Jeremy! Get on over here and try one of these. And don't be gettin’ all mopey on me, boy. Y'all look like a one-legged man at a butt-kickin’ contest."

  In a not very hushed tone, he added to Brenda, “One of my Harvard boys. They write the bills and such. Smart as hell, but egos bigger'n their brains. Gotta keep ‘em in line, if ya know what I mean."

  "I heard all that, Senator,” said Jeremy, as he eyed the hors d'oeuvre tray.

  "As if I didn't want you to!” laughed the Senator. “Go ahead and pick something out. Whatever looks good."

  The younger man was shorter than the Senator, almost at eye level with Brenda, perched upon her high heels. With her face pointed skyward, she had to look “down” to see Jeremy step toward her. Surprisingly, he cast his own gaze downward as well, as if reluctant to make eye contact with the helplessly bound girl.

  His hand trembled slightly as he reached for one of the pricey snacks. When he selected one, he quickly picked it up and popped it in his mouth.

  "Yes, very tasty, Senator."

  "Y'all're hopeless, boy! Was that cracker the tastiest treat you saw there?"

  "Well..."

  "I mean, look at her, boy! She's right there, all tied up and gagged. She won't mind if y'all want to touch her."

  "But, Senator, it's like I told you before. I have a girlfriend and—"

  "Girlfriend? Tarnation, boy! What's that got to do with anything? Hell, I got three girlfriends. Plus the wife. This is playtime, boy! Look at those ripe titties just begging to be let out. All's that's holding ‘em in is that there string laced up the
front. Go ahead, boy. Untie the string. Didn't you listen to the briefing? That's the whole idea of this charter."

  "Well, okay. I—I guess so."

  Again, the young man's nervous hands extended, this time passing over the tray, and lightly grasping the ends of the laces that held the front of Brenda's dress together. She watched him move, as if in slow motion, and wished he would hurry. Whatever else she might think about the Senator, he was right when he said she wouldn't mind.

  In fact, she wanted to be touched now. Craved it. The sight of the other girls, helpless and teased, had affected her in a way she never expected: envy. Why did they get to have those strong male hands all over them, while she was forced to be a human serving tray? It almost seemed like she was being punished.

  So when Jeremy gently tugged at the bow, she couldn't hold back the moan that escaped her gagged lips.

  "Y'all hear that, boy?” said the Senator. “The little lady wants you to set her titties loose. Ain't that right, gal?"

  "Mm hm!” she sighed, nodding her head as much as she could.

  Emboldened now, Jeremy yanked the bow to unravel the ends of the string, and quickly loosened it, pulling the front of Brenda's dress open as he went. She moaned again, louder, as she felt her breasts spring free, like kittens eager to play with the dangling string.

  Her already swollen nipples puckered even more in the open air. She could feel the men's eyes on them, followed soon by a pair of tentative hands.

  "Go ahead and squeeze ‘em, boy,” the Senator said, urging his young aide on. “No, no, not like that. They aren't glass, boy. They won't break. Here let me show ya..."

  Brenda felt the Senator shove Jeremy's hands away, and his own fleshy paws took their place. His touch was crude and rough. He dug his fingers in hard and pinched her nipples painfully.

  "Hmmph!” she cried, closing her eyes.

  "Doesn't that, y'know, hurt her?” asked Jeremy.