The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Upgrade

Dear Dinah Dewhurst,

Thank you for choosing to fly MelissAir on your upcoming journey to London, England.

MelissAir is currently undergoing a Recruitment Drive, and your flight has been chosen as a trial for our next generation of Amber Ambassadors, our world-renowned flight attendants. We apologise for any inconvenience this may cause.

As a result of this, we are offering free upgrades to passengers. To apply, please complete the attached survey and return by email to the address provided. At check-in, one of our Ambassadors will tell you whether you have been selected to be upgraded.

Your enjoyment is our top priority. Service is our pleasure.

* * *

At the front of the queue, a gorgeous woman with a wide, toothy smile was greeting passengers, taking their luggage and printing their boarding passes. She wore a tight black suit jacket over a bright daffodil-yellow blouse, cinching her narrow waist and matching the contours of her ample breasts. Her skirt was a white knee-length pencil skirt, and underneath she wore shear black stockings down to shiny black high-heeled pumps. Her fingernails were long and perfectly black; her lipstick and mascara were both dark goldenrod. Her blonde hair was pulled into a respectable bun, and placed on top was a square black box hat. The overall effect was that she looked, from a distance, like a gigantic bee.

Her name was unimportant, but she was the first Amber Ambassador that Dinah had ever seen.

Dinah leaned over to her fiancé, Kent, and nibbled his earlobe. Her right hand was already nestled in his back pocket, cupping his toned butt. She whispered huskily, “I hear stewardesses are total sex freaks. All that flying between time zones without a break messes up their libidos so much that they are constantly gagging for it. These bee girls are the worst of all. So fucking horny and desperate, they’d totally just go down on you if you asked them.”

Kent grinned, large hand pulling her towards him while his mouth caught hers for a kiss. “Good thing I’ve got you at hand to take my mind off the temptation.”

“You better believe it.”

The two were still kissing and fondling each other when they got to the front of the line.

“Hi!” chirped the Ambassador with a piercingly high-pitched voice. “Passports please! Any bags to check in?”

The Ambassador was still smiling that impossibly wide smile, always showing her brilliant white teeth even while talking. Her glossy lipstick was yellow-brown. Her eyes were bright and round, but slightly unfocused, as if they were looking straight through the passengers rather than at them.

Kent and Dinah handed over their passports and gave the woman their suitcases.

“Oh! Miss Dewhurst, did you fill out the survey online?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Congratulations!” she squealed. “You’ve been selected for a free upgrade! You’ll be in our first class cabin!”

“Kent took the survey too. Has he got an upgrade?”

“Um… I’ll just check. No… no, I’m afraid not. And the cabin is now full.”

“Then thanks all the same but—”

“Dinah!” hissed Kent. “What are you doing? You can’t turn this down!”

“What? I’m not going to spend the whole flight in a different cabin from you.”

“There’s nothing to stop us from meeting up during the flight, but you’d be insane to miss this opportunity! After takeoff, come and find me. Even if the seats are gone, you can sit on my lap or something. I might even come and visit you, if I can get away with it. You probably have one of those chairs that reclines all the way down. Not to mention the food will actually be edible in the upper classes.”

Dinah turned back to the check-in girl. “I would love to be upgraded,” she said.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” said the girl. “Your enjoyment is our top priority! Here’s your boarding pass! You can board as soon as the gate opens!”

* * *

Dinah kissed Kent goodbye at the gate, nipping playfully at his lip with her teeth. She knew she’d see him in about an hour, but for some reason it was important to say goodbye. “See you soon” just wasn’t sufficient.

The bee girl on the gate was dressed exactly the same as the one on the check-in desk, as was every other Amber Ambassador that Dinah could see. They all wore the same make-up, the same clothes, and the same bright, unsettling smile. They even seemed to have the same hourglass figure.

“Come right this way!” said one, when Dinah said that she’d been selected for an upgrade, and immediately took Dinah’s hand and led her to the very front of the plane. Surprised by the sudden physical contact, Dinah unconsciously allowed herself to be led. The woman’s perfume even smelled faintly of honey.

The first class cabin was small, with less than ten seats. But each seat was like its own private room. The seat reclined into a bed, if necessary, and there were collapsible shelves and private TV screens. In fact, each seat could be completely enclosed in its own sound-proof pod, so you could listen to the movies out loud without disturbing your neighbours, or just go to sleep without risk of interruption.

Dinah put her rucksack in a private cupboard just for her, and sank into the plush cushions of her seat. She had never realised that air travel could actually be comfortable before that moment.

One of the bee girls handed her a drink. It was sweet, and disappeared far too quickly. She was given another without even asking, and she drank it just as fast. She could get used to this, being waited on hand and foot, her every need fulfilled even before asking.

There were five passengers in the cabin. They were all women. That was an odd coincidence. Not just any women, either, but incredibly attractive women. Dinah suddenly felt slightly out of place. There was Virginal Ingénue, a bit younger than Dinah and wearing a pink cardigan and silver crucifix, awed by everything she saw. There was Ripped Amazon, probably a professional athlete, in a tank top that showed off the toned muscles of her arms and abs. There was Punk Rocker, with piercings in everything that dangled and the left side of her head shaved bare. There was Busty Matriarch, the plumpest and oldest of them, with a hint of grey in her hair to go with her chunky thighs and her expanding waistline, but with breasts like bowling balls and an ass to die for, all topped off with a pastel summer dress.

In contrast, Dinah felt very much like Plain Jane. She wasn’t as innocent of Virginal Ingénue, as fit as Ripped Amazon, or as striking as Punk Rocker, and compared to Busty Matriarch she was flat as a board.

Another round of drinks followed. Then the smiling bee girls buzzed in and fastened everyone’s seat belts before takeoff. A stewardess with almond eyes leaned so close over Dinah’s seat that Dinah could see the plump curves of her breasts under the silky yellow blouse, and a powerful waft of honey perfume reached her nostrils. Dinah hadn’t fantasised about women since university but she was gripped with a sudden yearning to kiss this woman’s golden-brown lips and run her hands through her raven hair. Then the belt clasp clicked closed and the moment was gone.

Suddenly, the pods on each of the chairs started to close. Dinah panicked, but found that her arms had been belted down as well as her body and she couldn’t move.

“Please remain calm,” said the breathy voice of an Amber Ambassador over the PA system. “We are about to show you the pre-flight safety demonstration video. We are closing the cabin’s pods to ensure the optimal viewing experience. Please give this video your full attention.”

Dinah tried to call out, to demand that they let her go and stop being so horribly creepy, but her tongue was rubbery and she could only mumble. She could just hear similar noises from the other pods before her pod closed with a hiss, cutting off the tiniest noise and plunging her into pitch blackness. She sat for a minute, continuing to mumble, hoping that she would start to articulate proper words again and that someone would hear her and release her. She could hear her own heart thumping, pounding in the enclosed space. She rolled her head from side to side, but she had no idea what she was looking at.

Then, suddenly, the video screen exploded into a dazzling kaleidoscope of vibrant colours, like a million fluttering butterfly wings. At the same moment, the pod was filled with a soft, haunting melody, and she could smell honey and flowers. She tried to look at anything but the screen, except that there was nothing else to look at. She tried not to listen to the haunting music, but it was useless. The music was everywhere. Not loud, but pervasive. She found her eyes wandering to the screen. She wanted to resist, but the lady had told her to give the video her full attention. She had to do what the Amber Ambassadors said. They were classy, sophisticated professionals. She had to do what they said.

* * *

Dinah jerked awake. Her belt was unclasped and the pod was open again. She guessed that the safety demonstration was over. It was funny, but she didn’t really remember anything about it. And yet, somehow, she knew where the lifejackets were and where the nearest available exit was.

Busty Matriarch and Ripped Amazon were out of their seats and stretching, chatting amiably and superficially. Virginal Ingénue was sitting in the seat opposite Dinah. She was shivering… no, not shivering. Shaking. She was flushed and breathing heavily, and her whole body was trembling. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the armrests.

“Are you okay?” Dinah asked her. Dinah was momentarily surprised by her own ability to talk, then confused at her surprise. Of course she could talk. Why wouldn’t she be able to talk?

Virginal Ingénue said nothing. As she leaned forward, Dinah could see she was sweating heavily, and… wow. Her top was so drenched with sweat that it clung to her skin, and Dinah could see the rock hard points of the girl’s nipples poking into the thin material. Her cardigan had been screwed up and discarded. Absent-mindedly, Dinah reached up to her own boob. Her own nipples were hard too. Nothing like this girl’s though. This girl’s nipples looked like they could snap off.

Dinah suddenly realised that there was a high-pitched noise in the background. The plane had already taken off. She must have slept through it. She hadn’t realised that the pre-flight video was that boring.

“Attention, first class passengers! As a special thank you for your custom, we will be coming through the cabin regularly during the flight with gifts for you. Our first gift is a bottle of MelissAir’s brand of floral and honey perfume.”

The bee girls stepped round to each of the five passengers and sprayed clouds of the heady scent into the women’s faces. Dinah shuddered with pleasure as it filled her nostrils and sent her taste buds into overdrive.

Dinah opened her eyes again just in time to see Virginal Ingénue go into a seizure. Her skin was red, her eyes rolled up into her sockets, and her limbs were flailing uncontrollably. She looked like she wanted to escape, but there was nothing to escape from, and whatever she was feeling just continued assaulting her senses. She was screaming a deep, primal, throaty scream, more like a continuous grunt pulled from her lungs. It wasn’t fear. There was no thought or emotion behind it. It was pure physicality escaping her lips.

To Dinah, it was the most terrifying and arousing thing she’d ever seen. It reminded Dinah of an orgasm, but it couldn’t be. It was too intense to be an orgasm, and it had lasted far too long. And nobody could orgasm just from a whiff of honey, no matter how intoxicating that whiff might be.

Dinah was so fucking horny.

The bee girls converged on Virginal Ingénue’s seat. “Oh no,” they cooed, imitating concern even through their wide plastic smiles. “Aren’t you feeling well? You’ve made quite a mess. Let’s get you to the stewardess-only washroom and clean you up.” So two of them grabbed Virginal Ingénue under the arms and carried her away. She was unable to support any of her own weight, exhausted to the point of stupor, and still twitching from the aftershocks of her seizure.

Dinah felt oddly jealous of the girl. She knew the experience probably hadn’t felt as enjoyable as it looked, but the animal part of her brain didn’t care. She could feel the moistness streaming down the inside of her trouser legs. Her mouth kept making sucking motions when she wasn’t paying attention.

The bottle of perfume was in her hand. She didn’t remember taking it. She lifted it to her nose, finger on the pump, aching to squeeze… aching to take a spray in the face and give herself over to whatever followed…

Dinah thrust the perfume bottle into the back of her cupboard and slammed it shut. She had to get out of here, or she’d go crazy. She had to find Kent.

* * *

The first class cabin was at the front of the plane and their original tickets had been almost right at the back, so Dinah had to walk through the whole length of the plane to find her fiancé. Passengers back here didn’t have private pods. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder in narrow seats, which didn’t even recline far enough for them to rest their head comfortably. Some of them were trying to sleep, hunched up and sitting sideways; others were glassy-eyed watching the in-flight entertainment. Some were reading, or doing crosswords. It was much closer to Dinah’s idea of a normal flight.

Through it all, the yellow-black-and-white stewardesses moved effortlessly. And they were all stewardesses: there were no men. And just like the passengers in first class, they were all of them stunningly gorgeous. And every single one of them had fixed smiles and wide eyes. Dinah suddenly realised that she hadn’t seen any of them blink, but the thought didn’t have time to settle because just then she spotted Kent and barely managed to resist the urge to jump on his crotch.

The economy class cabin was surprisingly empty and Kent was the only passenger in the last five rows of the plane. He was talking to (flirting with, Dinah groused) one of the smiling bee girls. Kent was sitting right in the middle of the row, and the stewardess was bent over almost horizontal. Kent was pretending not to stare at the girl’s chasmic cleavage, and Dinah was almost tempted to pinch the girl’s ass, which was sticking into the air and stretching the fabric of her skirt to its limit. But no, the stewardesses were professional women, and it wouldn’t be right to demean them like that. It wouldn’t be classy.

Dinah cleared her throat. Kent looked up guiltily, red-faced and red-handed. The stewardess rose gracefully and turned to give Dinah a brilliant smile.

“Hi, uh, Dinah,” stammered Kent. “Barbara here was just keeping me company.” A Barbie, Dinah chuckled inwardly. Of course one of the bimbos was a Barbie.

“That’s nice,” said Dinah. “Could you give us a minute?” Buzz off, she added mentally.

“Of course! Your enjoyment is our top priority!” The bee girl sashayed away, and Dinah slid herself into the narrow seat next to her future husband. It really wasn’t comfortable.

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you,” said Kent.

“You could have come to see me.”

“I tried, but they wouldn’t let me through to first class. Barbara led me back here, quite firmly.” Before Dinah had a chance to quip, he added “What did you think of the safety demonstration?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I kind of zoned out for it. They gave me some sort of cocktail when I sat down.”

“It was pretty fun. Instead of the usual dry reading, it was more like a weird, fully-clothed lap dance. A couple of the stewardesses got up front and were posing and pouting and dressing each other in life jackets, which doesn’t sound particularly appealing but was strangely erotic. They just kept bumping and grinding. I never wanted to pay attention to a safety demonstration as much in my life.”

Dinah frowned. “In first class we just got a video.” Butterfly wings and haunting music. Honey perfume…

“Dinah, you smell good.” He took a deep breath. “You smell amazing.”

Dinah leaned in close, licked his cheek quickly, and whispered “I’m so hot for you right now. I’m so ready for a pounding.” Her hand crept down to his crotch. He was… not as hard as she would have hoped. “Come on, right here, right now. Take out your cock and I’ll ride it under the blankets. Nobody will even know. It’ll be so twisted.”

Kent did not react how she expected. She pushed her back, confused and flustered. “Dinah, what’s got into you?”

“Nothing yet,” she purred, “but I’m open to suggestions.”

“You’re not usually this forward.”

“And you’re not usually this uptight,” she snapped, suddenly angry. She needed a fuck! Why wasn’t she already getting one?

“Dinah, I’m not going to fuck you in the middle of the cabin.”

“God! Then let’s use the toilet. Just give me your cock!”

“The toilet’s occupied,” he said, pointing to the illuminated sign above their heads. “Listen, I think you need to cool down a bit.”

“What I need is for you to stop being such a wimp and nail my cunt! Now are we going to do it or not?”

“Maybe later.” His words were like a bucket of ice water in the face. He wasn’t going to fuck her? Then… what would she do? She was torn between debasing herself by begging, and angrily cursing his inadequacies.

In the event, she did neither, because Barbie the bee girl reappeared.

“Excuse me, miss, we’re serving food now. You should head back to first class. They’re already handing out the menus.”

“Hear that, Di? You get actual menus. What are we eating back here?”

“Pasta,” said Barbie.

“Pasta what?” asked Dinah testily.

“Um… pasta and some sauce!” Barbie’s smile never wavered. “Please go back to first class now.” Barbie took out a napkin and laid it gently over Kent’s lap. “Don’t worry at all about your husband.” Dinah chose not to correct her, and Barbie continued. “We’ll take special care of him. Service is our pleasure.”

Barbie’s hand remained on the napkin, resting on Kent’s crotch almost tenderly, for just a moment too long. No, that was silly. The stewardesses like Barbie were sophisticated and professional women. They wouldn’t do anything so inappropriate.

And she’d asked Dinah to go back to first class. Still frustrated, and now angry at her fiancé, Dinah thought it best to just do as she said.

* * *

Dinah picked the salmon, and relished it all the more because she knew Kent would be jealous of her. She was still horny, although focusing on her food had helped to take the edge off. She was tempted to go to the toilet and just frig herself, but all of a sudden she was starting to feel quite drowsy.

“You look like you’re about to nod off,” said one of the Ambassadors though her glossy brown lips and sparkling white teeth. “Why don’t you lie back—” At this, the girl flicked a switch in Dinah’s pod, causing her seat to recline so far it was practically a bed. “—And relax. Just relax.”

That was a good idea, thought Dinah. She should do what the girl said. She didn’t even notice the pod start to close around her, once again cutting off all light and sound. Panic flared in her breast again, but she quashed it. She was supposed to relax. She should just try to sleep. It wasn’t as scary the second time. Wait, second time? Had this happened before…?

Suddenly, Dinah was blinded by butterfly wings, intoxicated by honey perfume, and surrounded by the haunting tune that filled her space. Panic gave way to terror, which rose faster than she could stamp it down. She hammered her fists on the walls of the pod, and was terrified because she couldn’t even hear the sounds her own hands made, just the formless music filling everything. She tried to shout, but she couldn’t hear her own voice. She couldn’t even block out the sound by covering her ears, and the fluttering lights seemed to penetrate even her eyelids. There was no escape. No escape.

It didn’t take long before all Dinah’s will to resist ebbed away and she slumped back on the cushion, letting the light and sound and scent suffuse her whole being. She was supposed to relax. Ok, she could do that. She would do what the bee girls said. Then they’d like her. She wanted them to like her. Nothing could make her happier than pleasing those sexy, smiling stewardesses… those beautiful, bimbotic bee girls… those dreamy, delectable drones…

* * *

“Unh. Unh. Unh. Unh.”

Dinah woke up again to the sound of a rhythmic noise. Grunting. How inconsiderate to make such a noise when people were in the middle of such a nice sleep.

A plastic-wrapped package had been placed next to her. This must be the second free gift that the stewardesses had mentioned. She tore it open. Sheer black nylon tumbled out and spilled like oil over her hands. They were the stockings that the Amber Ambassadors wore. She caressed the soft fabric. Little tingles of electricity shot from her fingers all the way up her arm. She touched the material on her fingers to her lips, which started to tingle too. And so did her nipples. And so did her pussy.

“Unh. Unh. Unh. Unh!”

There was a garter belt in the packet too. Dinah had never worn a garter belt before. She needed to wear one now. Wait… No. She didn’t have to put something on just because the stewardesses gave it to her.

But she wanted to. It would make them happy. She wanted to make them happy. Service was pleasure, or whatever. And it might make Dinah a bit more like them too. Enjoyment was their top priority, and Dinah needed some of that right now.

Dinah had to try them on. There was no other option. Unconcerned that her pod was still open, she unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them off. She dropped her socks out of sight, then rolled the first stocking up her right leg. Oh God! It felt amazing! Like it was stroking her calves, planting kisses under her knee. Fucking fuck…

The other stocking followed, and Dinah was squirming even before it got to the top. It was like they’d been left in a generator room, and they were so filled with static electricity that they were charging her skin. Her whole body was covered in goose bumps. Her nipples were stiffening again.

“Unh! Unh! Unh! Unh!”

By the time both stockings had been pulled up, there was a new moist patch on her dried panties, and she was panting and sweaty. Garter belt… where was the garter belt? She slid it up, biting her lip to stop herself from moaning at the frissons of pleasure that flowed from her toes all the way up to the tops of her thighs. She clipped the garters, snapped the suspenders, and nearly came at the sudden warm jolt. So good…

Why did people wear anything else? Fuck socks. Forget bare legs! Dinah would never be caught without these exquisite stockings again!

“Unh! Fuck! Unh! Unh!”

Dinah jumped up. The grunting was getting more insistent! Was someone having sex? She looked around the first class cabin. The noise was coming from Ripped Amazon’s bed. The pod was open, exposing her to the sight of everyone else in the room. The bronze goddess was on her back, wearing her tank top but nothing on her legs, humping the air. She had the nylon stockings wrapped around each hand. Her right hand was pressing one stocking into her nose; her left hand was rubbing the other against her glistening naked pussy. She was building to something. Her grunting, timed to match her rhythmic upwards-thrusting of her groin, was getting louder and faster.

“Unh!unh!unh!unnngggggg!”

Ripped Amazon held that position, teeth clenched in a hideous visage, groin thrust into the air. Then, suddenly, the orgasm ended and her whole body was sapped of strength. She wilted, like a ragdoll, into a heap of sweat.

Dinah was the first person to snap out of it. She’d just watched another woman publicly masturbate to orgasm. And she wasn’t the only audience. Busty Matriarch, already wearing her stockings beneath her pastel summer dress, was clutching and kneading her massive breasts like dough. Punk Rocker was holding the unopened stocking packet in one hand, and was sucking the thumb of the other like a… well, like a whore sucking a tiny prick. Slowly, the two of them also snapped out of the trance, and sheepishly made their way back to their respective beds. Moments later, a small group of bee girls swarmed around Ripped Amazon’s bed, cooing and then carrying her away to be cleaned up.

“That was fun, wasn’t it?” asked a voice behind Dinah. “Do you know that you’re not wearing any pants?”

Dinah turned to see an Amber Ambassador… no, wait. There was something… wrong. She was wearing the uniform, true. She was wearing the yellow blouse, black jacket and white skirt of the stewardesses, as well as the silky black nylon stockings. She had the typical Ambassador hourglass curves. She was even smiling… but unlike every other bee girl that Dinah had seen, it was a genuine, serene smile, not the usual wide grin. And she wasn’t wearing the usual make-up. Her lips and eyelids were unadorned and natural, and her fingernails were pale pink. She had a silver crucifix resting in her cleavage.

It wasn’t a stewardess. It was Virginal Ingénue.

“What?” asked Dinah, like an imbecile.

Virginal Ingénue pointed down to Dinah’s white cotton panties and stockings, which were the only clothes she wore below the waist. Dinah flushed, mortified at her own behaviour (but relieved she had not been caught playing with herself) and pulled on her jeans over the stockings. The frissons of pleasure were now merely a satisfying background noise, and easily manageable.

“I didn’t mind,” said Virginal Ingénue, once Dinah was fully clothed. “You have lovely legs. Much nicer than mine.” Dinah was simultaneously embarrassed and pleased by the compliment.

“Your legs are nice too,” said Dinah truthfully, unable to resist looking the young girl up and down.

“You’re sweet, thank you. Until now they always seemed skinny and knobbly. I think maybe the stockings make them look nicer. Aren’t the stockings wonderful?”

“Oh God, they’re so wonderful,” agreed Dinah. “But where did you get the rest of the uniform?”

“Hm? The Amber Ambassadors gave me a spare set of clothes when I made a mess of myself,” said Virginal Ingénue without a hint of shame. “I was lucky. They didn’t have much choice of size, but fortunately these fit me perfectly. Do they look good?”

“You look smoking hot,” admitted Dinah. “Just like the other bee girls.”

“Bee girls? Oh yes, I see what you mean! I’m glad you like it. The Amber Ambassadors are so beautiful and sophisticated and wonderful.”

“Beautiful, sophisticated and wonderful…” echoed Dinah, without thinking. “I’m so jealous.”

Virginal Ingénue laughed. “Don’t be jealous,” said the girl softly. “You’re beautiful, sophisticated and wonderful too.” As she spoke, Virginal Ingénue stepped forward, leaning into Dinah’s personal space, smelling the perfume on Dinah’s neck. “I could just eat you up right now, but I don’t think it’s allowed.” The girl’s beatific smile was spreading outwards across her face, showing more and more of her pearly white teeth. Her eyes briefly lost focus as they flicked from Dinah’s lips to her breasts. She leaned in again and whispered into Dinah’s ear. “You’ll make a wonderful Amber Ambassador.”

Dinah felt incredibly uncomfortable. “I have to go!”

“Mmm… Come back soon!” Virginal Ingénue licked her fingers as Dinah pushed past her and ran towards the back of the plane. Dinah didn’t want to see what the girl did with them next.

* * *

Dinah was confused and frightened when she got back to Kent’s chair. She didn’t even notice that one of the stewardesses was standing next to him, one foot on his arm rest, his hands clasping at her stocking-covered calf. The stewardess was glassy-eyed and grinning inanely (no change there), but Kent was moaning in pleasure. He wasn’t even trying to look up the woman’s skirt, which was hiked up almost to her waist, showing off her garters and suspenders.

“Kent! Kent, I need to talk to you,” said Dinah frantically. “Something’s very wrong.”

He looked up as she approached. “What? Oh, hey. Uh… Dinah, is it? Look, I’m a bit busy here with—” He looked up at the name badge on the stewardess’ chest as he continued to massage her leg. “—with Dale here. Can you come back?”

“No, this is important! You need to listen!”

“Ugh, ok, fine. Thanks, babe, you can go now.”

“Service is our pleasure!” said Dale with a wink, then bustled away.

Kent turned back to Dinah with an exasperated glare. “So what do you want?”

“Something really weird is happening in first class! There was a girl—I don’t even know if she’s out of high school!—and now she’s in that damn bee uniform! And everyone’s becoming completely uninhibited!”

“Is this some kind of come on? Because I’m totally flattered, but like I said earlier I’m not really interested.”

Dinah was shocked. “What?! What are you talking about?” A horrible suspicion dawned. “Kent, please tell me you know who I am.”

“Sure. You’re Dinah. You came back here earlier and made the most overt proposition I’d ever heard.”

“What about before that?”

“Before… Yeah, we were talking at check-in, weren’t we? I said you should accept the upgrade to first class.”

“And before that?”

Kent concentrated for a moment, then gave up. “Look, what is this about?”

“The reason we were talking before the flight is because we’re engaged!” She held up her engagement ring as proof. “You have to remember!”

“Sure I do,” he said, a little nervously. “Of course. I proposed… on a street corner…”

“Yes! That’s good. Now, listen! Something bad—”

There was a ‘ding’, and a voice behind Dinah said. “Excuse me, miss. I’m afraid you’ll have to return to your seat now. The fasten seatbelt sign has been turned on.”

Dinah revolved to look at the smiling woman behind her. “But we were—”

“You’ll have to return to your seat,” said the stewardess again, without a single flicker in her expression. “Now.”

Dinah couldn’t say anything. She had to do what the Amber Ambassadors said. They were professional women. Sophisticated… sexy… everything Dinah dreamed of being. Her stomach dropped and she bit down a wave of nausea. Like a marionette on strings, she followed her own body back to first class, silently screaming.

“Look,” said Kent as she marched away. “Dinah, you’re really nice and everything. You’re just not my type.”

Dinah cast one last glance over her shoulder. Kent’s hand was on the stewardess’s hip.

* * *

As she walked back to first class, Dinah felt numb. Alone. Defeated. Like she’d lost a battle she hadn’t even known she was fighting.

She’d lost her fiancé already, and she was struggling to remember details of their life before arriving at the airport. She’d only been in the pod twice, and already she was in a state of constant arousal. It was controllable, but what would happen if she went in again? Virginal Ingénue had been neither virginal nor ingenuous the last time Dinah saw her. It was terrifying.

She knew she could run or hide. She still had the willpower for that, she thought. But she had nowhere to go. She was 35,000 feet in the air, trapped in a metal tube that was controlled to the minutest detail by the Amber Ambassadors. She idly tried the door to the toilet as she passed, but it was locked.

But that wasn’t the only reason. It wasn’t even the biggest reason. A part of her wanted to find out what would happen. It excited her. Not sexually, but deep inside her soul. She could go to sleep again, and wake up as someone completely new. A sniff of honey, and she’d be helpless… powerless… weak… dominated…

Would she lose herself if she submitted? Would she become another bee in the hive, smiling a false smile because she knew no other life? Homogeneous? Replaceable?

There was a stewardess waiting for her when she reached her seat.

A single tear slid down Dinah’s cheek.

“Don’t be sad,” said the Amber Ambassador, tenderly cupping Dinah’s face and wiping away the moisture with a thumb. “It will be better soon. You’ll be so happy.”

Dinah nodded mutely.

The other pods were all closed, but hers was open. It was a gigantic maw, ready to swallow her whole. It was a chrysalis, in which she’d be transformed.

Darkness and silence.

Colour and melody.

* * *

Dinah woke up refreshed and giddy. It was morning. She felt like she’d finally turned a corner. She’d been feeling so bad last night, although she couldn’t remember exactly why. A bad break-up, perhaps. It didn’t matter. It was behind her. Who needed a man when she had the gorgeous and professional Amber Ambassadors to take care of her? Why feel sad when you can feel happy?

And she did feel happy. So happy. Her smile threatened to split her face.

And horny too. She felt so horny. Well, why not just play for a bit? The pod was open to the rest of the cabin, but Dinah didn’t much care. She thrilled a little at the idea of someone watching her. Feeling terribly mischievous, she unbuttoned her jeans and her hand slipped past the waistband of her cotton panties.

Ugh. Those panties had been soaked and dried so many times this flight. They were filthy. But so was Dinah, she chuckled, so that was okay. Still, she should probably replace the panties. Or, better yet, just get rid of them. She couldn’t go commando in jeans, of course, but if she could get hold of a skirt… Yeah, that would look so sexy. Dinah in a tight skirt… hiking up the skirt to expose her naked glistening cunt… straddling some faceless hunk of man meat… riding him until he exploded inside her… his enjoyment was her top priority… service was pleasure…

But Dinah’s fingers didn’t want to cooperate. They were slick with juices, stroking the outsides of her swollen labia, but every time she wanted to tap her clit or plunge inside her slit she couldn’t bring herself to do it… It wasn’t fair! She was so turned on now, but this was worse than not masturbating at all! She just wanted to cum…

No, she was not allowed to cum. She must not cum. The longer she could stay at peak arousal without cumming, the better. If she could hold out, the Amber Ambassadors would be pleased. She desperately wanted them to be pleased.

So, slightly frustrated but unwilling to lose her happy buzz over it, she pulled out her fingers, licked them clean, and buttoned up her jeans.

“Good morning,” said the attending bee girl when Dinah rose. “It is wash time. Let me show you to the private washroom for Amber Ambassadors.”

“Goody!” said Dinah, with a clap of her hands, and eagerly followed. The stewardess led her up a small flight of stairs to the upper desk. The washroom was behind an unassuming grey door opposite the cockpit, but inside it was far from unassuming. It was… Dinah scrambled for a suitable word. Opulent. It was like a spa.

Busty Matriarch and Punk Rocker were both waiting for her, staring around the small, brightly-lit chamber with wonder on their beaming faces.

“Ok, ladies,” said the Amber Ambassador that had entered with Dinah. “Please remove your clothes.”

All three stripped off immediately. It didn’t occur to any of them that the order was strange. After all, it had come from an Amber Ambassador, and they were always classy and professional and correct. In no time, all three women were naked, save for the sheer black stockings they’d been given.

“You need to take off the stockings too,” said the stewardess. All three tried to protest, but she cut them off. “The stockings will be returned to you when you are clean.”

Dinah looked down at her own body, then at the sweaty naked bodies of the other two women. They were all so different. Sexy, but nowhere near as sexy as the Amber Ambassadors. Nothing was as sexy as an Amber Ambassador.

Punk Rocker was short without her heavy platform boots. Like her head, her crotch was shaved on the left side; the right side was trimmed into the shape of a crescent moon. Dinah had already seen her myriad gunmetal ring piercings in her lower lip, left eyebrow, tongue, nose (one in the septum and a stud in the left nostril), and the jingling rings in both earlobes. Now, Dinah could see that she even had piercings in her belly button, her clit, both nipples, and five jingling rings on her left outer labium. She only had one tattoo, which was under her left breast and looked like the handle of a knife that had been stabbed through her chest.

“You will need to remove your metal,” said the stewardess, and Punk Rocker immediately obeyed.

Busty Matriarch was pale and freckled all over her body. She was spared from being fat purely by her height. Her enormous boobs drooped down to her belly button and jiggled when she moved. Her ass was almost perfectly circular, and she waddled slightly when she walked because of her chunky thighs. Her flesh was dappled with cellulite and stretch-marks.

Dinah no longer felt bad about her appearance. She was skinny and flat-chested, with no ass to speak of. She’d once felt so self-conscious about her body, but that seemed a lifetime ago. They were all equal here; all equally inferior to the feminine perfection of the Amber Ambassadors.

“Please sit,” said the Amber Ambassador. “Relax.” Two other Amber Ambassadors appeared. The three Ambassadors were each carrying a bottle of thick, amber-gold liquid. “This is massage jelly. Don’t be alarmed. We have to rub it into every part of your bodies to remove all your imperfections.”

So the three Amber Ambassadors squeezed the thick liquid onto the bodies of the reclining women. It was cold as it hit Dinah’s belly, but as the stewardess’s hands started rubbing it into her skin, it started to feel warm, then hot. The smell of sex and the sound of moaning filled the air, as the three masseuses expertly caressed the passengers’ face, shoulders, tits, legs and vaginas, teasing them and torturing them. Bringing them to the edge of climax but denying them release.

Then the massage was finished, and the three bee girls vanished. Dinah was still covered in thick, gooey jelly. A film of it covered every inch of skin from her toes to her forehead. She had to breathe through her mouth because her nose was so thoroughly coated with the stuff. She lay there, still as she could, while the jelly worked its magic on her. She didn’t know what would happen, but she knew something would. They were removing her imperfections, and she had so many of those.

The jelly was still hot. On her tits, it felt like burning. Agony. No… it felt like the first time she’d had sex. Her boyfriend at the time had been both well-hung and impatient. He hadn’t just popped her cherry; he’d ruptured it with a single powerful thrust. She’d screamed in pain and he’d misunderstood it as a sign of pleasure, so he continued to pound her with his bulging, foot-long cock. She’d felt like she was being ripped apart from the inside, stretched beyond her breaking point. That’s what her breasts felt like now: like they were being stretched, expanded, so fast that they were being shredded inside.

Dinah realised she was screaming. Her hands flew to her boobs, trying to scrape the jelly off, and she goggled when she found that they were no longer just thin bumps, but firm and plump mounds, inflating under her fingers. A cup size bigger… two… three! And, just like her first time having sex, the agony was exquisite now. Pain in her tits was ecstasy flowing through her whole body. She writhed and pinched her turgid nipples, still screaming.

Then the pain (pleasure!) ebbed. Then it vanished. It hadn’t peaked. She hadn’t cum, which she was oddly proud of. Her body was built for pleasure. She could give it. She could take it. And she could always take more. She admired her new tits. D-cups, she guessed. Before, she could cover one of her small boobs completely with just her palm; now, she couldn’t even enclose it in her whole hand.

Dinah rolled her head to the left. Punk Rocker was on another bed, fingers digging into the thin excuse for a mattress, hissing through clenched teeth. Her tits weren’t growing particularly, but Dinah watched in amazement as the myriad piercing holes across her body healed, sealed themselves, and disappeared. The colour on her knife-handle tattoo leeched away and faded. Dinah was willing to bet that the rest of it would just wipe off.

Dinah rolled to the right, and gasped in shock. Dinah and Punk Rocker were covered in a film of jelly, but Busty Matriarch looked like she was drowning in it. There was a layer on her two inches thick, and she was struggling to breathe as it covered her whole face. Dinah scrabbled to her feet and wiped the jelly away from her mouth, nose and eyes. The older woman took a great lungful of air, and choked. She must have swallowed some of it. Here eyes span wildly; her mouth moved but she couldn’t speak. Dinah thought her lips looked so kissable…

The jelly was piled so thickly on Busty Matriarch’s body that it was starting to roll off in globules and drop, splat splat splat, on the smooth floor. The viscous orange liquid obscured her curves… which Dinah thought was strange because the woman had a lot of curves… In fact, Dinah judged from the outline of the jelly mass that Busty Matriarch should have been covered in no more of a coating than either of the other women, so why couldn’t Dinah see her flesh? She scooped a handful of the jelly away.

Where was Busty Matriarch’s belly? An hour ago she’d had rolls of loose hanging flab, but now there was nothing here but thick jelly going splat splat splat. Dinah wiped away more, until she touched the woman’s skin. It was tight and firm and smooth. No dimples or cellulite. Her stomach was as taut as an athlete’s. As taut as Dinah’s. The woman moaned and writhed around as Dinah laid her hand on the delicate belly button.

Dinah brushed away as much jelly as she could with a sweep of her arm. Her chunky thighs were toned and slender! Her tits had reduced by at least two cup sizes! It was as though every ounce of fat in her body had just been sucked out of her and fallen, splat splat splat, onto the ground. She’d lost decades off her appearance. Not a single wrinkle or stretch mark was left. Dinah couldn’t resist cupping formerly-known-as-Busty Matriarch’s ample breasts. Still bigger than Dinah’s, but not by much. Dinah squeezed them, harder than she’d planned to. Busty’s eyes shot open. She gurgled incomprehensively, bucked once, twice, three times on the table, and was suddenly galvanised into life: one hand to her nipple (the areolas hadn’t shrunk at all, and looked like massive saucers) and the other to her pussy, both pinching and tweaking and squelching through the jelly.

Dinah felt a surge of pity and contempt. The woman had been so close to making it through, and all it had taken was a little squeeze to send her over the edge.

The Amber Ambassadors returned, and all three women were rinsed of the jelly and towelled dry. Naked, they seemed almost identical, save for their skin tones and their faces and some other subtle variations, like Punk Rocker’s asymmetrical pubic hair. Busty Matriarch continued to play with herself, which Dinah thought both demeaning and rude. Punk Rocker was shaking, and kept glancing at Busty’s tits and pussy. Dinah could tell she was on the verge of giving in too. Hold it together, girl, she thought. Not much longer.

All three were given their stockings back. It was a huge relief for Dinah, feeling them envelop her legs again. Without them she’d felt… exposed.

Then they were each presented with a black and yellow and white uniform. Dinah couldn’t suppress a grin.

* * *

Wearing the uniform as she walked back down to the lower deck and the first class cabin was the greatest experience of Dinah’s life so far. It made her feel so sexy, with the way the skirt threw her hips side to side as she walked, and the way the jacket perfectly matched the contours of her new (amazing!) tits.

More than that, though. It made her feel classy. Sophisticated. Professional.

It made her feel like she belonged. She could be an Amber Ambassador. She wanted to! More than anything she’d ever wanted before!

She could feel her quim juicing as she walked, and she thrilled that she could keep herself so on edge for so long without giving in. She knew she was close. So close to surrender, and it was so tempting to just give in and go over the edge and ride a wave of pleasure all the way to landing… but she was close to her final transformation now, and she wanted that more. One more turn in the pod, she was sure. Then she’d be one of them. A bee girl. An Amber Ambassador. For real and forever!

Dinah and Punk Rocker were the only ones left now. The other three first class passengers were presumably occupied elsewhere. They hadn’t been able to make it all the way. Dinah would make it. She’d show them she could!

Punk Rocker looked rather less punky now that she’d lost her piercings, and Dinah thought that was all for the best. Was she taller now, too, or was that just from the shiny black high heels that they were both wearing? (Dinah absentmindedly stroked her shoes and relished the tingle that followed.) Whatever the reason, Punk Rocker looked so much closer to perfection now.

Not perfect, however. Far from perfect.

Dinah suddenly realised that Punk Rocker was crying, and suddenly became embarrassed at her own unkind thoughts.

“What’s the matter?” she asked with as much tenderness as she could muster.

The girl took a handful of the hair that grew only on the right side of her head and yanked on it hard. “Look at me!” she wailed. “I’m so hideous! I’ll never be as perfect as them when I’ve ruined my hair by shaving it!”

Dinah shifted uncomfortably. “It’ll grow back, won’t it?”

“That’ll take ages! I don’t even know why I did it! Why was I ever so stupid as to want to be different!?”

She burst into sobs again, and Dinah was relieved when the bee girls arrived, presenting them each with a wrapped gift on a tray.

“Attention, first class passengers! As an extra special thank you for being such wonderful guest, here is the last of our free gifts to you on this flight. It’s a set of MelissAir’s brand of facial cosmetics, including the special lip gloss and eye shadow worn by our Amber Ambassadors.”

Dinah took the package reverently. So close so close so close! The lipstick was like dark liquid gold in a tube. Applying it was like kissing the Sun! Her whole body hummed as she coated the top lip… mmm… then the bottom lip… fuck… then put her lips together and ooooh! So good! It tasted of honey.

Dinah was quivering all over, but for Punk Rocker it was too much. “Oh! Oh fuck yes! OH! YES!” Dinah turned to see the girl smearing lipstick all over her face, not just quivering but twitching and convulsing. She slipped off her bed, pulling at her neckline and trying to put the lipstick on her bust.

“And are your enjoying your flight with us today?” asked a bee girl, looming over Dinah’s chair. She was flanked by at least three others, ready to catch Dinah if she fell.

Dinah’s head was swimming. She didn’t see the bee girls carrying Punk Rocker away. She couldn’t think except for one thing.

“Enjoyment is my top priority,” she said, and lay down in her pod, just holding on to the buzzing she could feel building in her core.

“Service is our pleasure,” said the bee girl, lifting the makeup out of Dinah’s limp hands. Two of them applied her nail polish, and another expertly applied the shadow to her eyelids. Dinah’s eyes rolled up inside her head. She wasn’t aware of anything anymore. Then the pod closed, and there was nothing for her to be aware of anyway.

Nothing but honey and flowers…

…colour and melody…

…service…

…and…

…pleasure…

* * *

Kent leaned back in his chair, scratching his balls through his trousers. Those fucking stewardess sluts. Fucking cockteases, all of them. They’d been torturing him for the whole damn flight, with their sexy bodies squeezed into those tight uniforms. They’d bring him things he asked for, and they’d smile their porn-star grins, and they’d pose and show off their nylons and squeeze their cleavage, and then they’d leave him with these goddamn blue balls, unable to even jack off because the toilet was constantly occupied.

He’d had enough. Someone had told him once that these Amber Ambassadors were the freakiest of freaks. They got off on helping people so much that they’d do anything if you just told them to.

He pushed the call button, and a minute later one of the stewardesses was striding purposefully towards him. Oh, yeah, this one was fucking perfect! She was so hot that she was practically oozing out of that uniform. Those eyes, that smile, those tits, that ass, those legs! His cock twitched in his jeans.

“May I help you, sir?” she asked with a knowing smile and a glance to his groin.

“Fuck yeah, you can help me. Look at this. I’ve been suffering for the whole flight. Why don’t you take care of it for me?”

“Mmm… Service is our pleasure!”

The girl slid to her knees, unzipped his jeans and exposed his bobbing cock to the cabin. Kent didn’t even care any more. She went to work, nuzzling it… licking… caressing his balls and swirling her tongue over his purple, swollen cockhead.

“Fu-fuck,” Kent gasped. “Fuck that’s good.”

She popped his out of her cheek and said, “Your enjoyment is our top priority!” Then it vanished inside her hot mouth again.

These fucking bee girls had ruined him for other women, Kent thought. Nobody could possibly compare after this. That veneer of sophisticated professionalism over a burning cauldron of unrepressed sexuality… Whenever he had sex in the future, he’d have no choice but to imagine this perfect Ambassador, her lipstick-coated mouth sliding up and down his shaft, flicking her tongue over his slit, then taking his whole dick like a vacuum.

“I’m gonna cum,” he grunted, and was disappointed when she immediately withdrew. “What? God, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to stop,” she promised. “But wouldn’t you rather sample everything I can offer?” And she stood up and swung her legs over his lap, hiking up her pristine white skirt to expose her naked, dripping cunt. “You want this? Tell me.”

“Yes. Yes, I want it!”

“Mmm…” She lowered herself onto him slowly, achingly slowly. Any second he thought he’d burst, but she knew just how far she could go before that happened. He thought he’d die. With one free hand she tugged and tapped at her engorged clit as his dick slid in and out of her slick pussy.

“This is heaven. Marry me!”

“Sorry,” she said with a smile and without any apology. “I’m married to my job.”

“What’s your name?”

Bouncing up and down on his cock, she tapped a black, perfectly manicured nail to the nametag on her breast. “It’s Dinah,” she said.

“That’s a lovely name. You’re so hot.”

“Are you nearly there?”

“So close…”

“Then cum! Cum for Dinah! Give me your hot sperm!”

And he did, gallon after gallon into her pussy, until it was leaking all over his lap and onto the floor between his feet. Then, suddenly, Dinah was shaking too, her pussy clenching and spasming around his cock, milking him for all it was worth. To stifle her moans, she planted her glossy lips over his mouth and attacked his tongue with her own, screaming silently into him.

Once the aftershocks had passed, Dinah disengaged herself, wiped herself clean, and fixed her skirt.

“Can we do this again?” asked Kent, feebly, exhausted.

“We’ll be landing in twenty minutes. If you want to go again, you’ll need to fly with us again.”

“Do you have any openings for male flight attendants?”

Dinah laughed. “Oh sir, you’re just not our type.”

Kent watched her ass as she walked away, and knew that he’d never find a more perfect woman for the rest of his life.