A Different Class! By Dex O'Donald

A Different Class

Story by Devin Dickie / Written by Dex O’Donald

© 2025-2055 QoS Comix All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

**DEVIN DICKIE NOTE**
All characters are OVER 18 years of AGE! This is a bullying fantasy and not real. The acts in the following written work are only consensual sexual choices and fantasy humiliation scenarios.
Bullying is NOT OKAY and If you or someone you know is being bullied, please alert the authorities.

1.

The airport bustled with the usual frenzy of travelers, each absorbed in their own itineraries. Jake Peters, average and angular, his dark hair meticulously styled, scanned the boarding pass in his hand, a frown etching deeper into his forehead with each passing second.

Veronica, his new wife – pale like porcelain with huge pillowy breasts and a yoga instructors’ perfect ass - stood beside him, her excitement about their honeymoon to Jamaica momentarily eclipsed by Jake's growing agitation. She leaned in, her dark hair falling over her shoulder, "What's wrong?"

"We're at the back of the plane," Jake said, his voice barely concealing his annoyance. "I paid for business class, not this."

Veronica bit her lip, looking around as if the solution might appear amidst the crowd. Jake spotted a flight attendant near the boarding gate. He strode towards her, Veronica trailing behind.

The flight attendant, whose nametag said Trinity, was busy assisting another passenger. Her uniform was pristine, and she carried an air of authority. She was a black woman, her hair pulled back in a neat bun, her expression professional yet distant. Her features, although sharp, made her pretty. Her curves made her intimidating.

"Excuse me," Jake interrupted, holding out his boarding passes. "There's been a mistake. We're supposed to be in business class."

Trinity glanced at the passes, then back at Jake. "Sir, these are your assigned seats. If there was a mistake, you need to resolve it with the ticketing desk."

Jake's jaw tightened. "Look, I know what I paid for. We're on our honeymoon and I'm not going to spend eight hours at the back of the plane."

Veronica touched his arm, a silent plea for calm, but Jake brushed her off. The conversation escalated, voices raised.

Passengers nearby began to take notice, casting curious glances their way.

Trinity's expression remained unchanged, her tone firm. "Sir, I understand, but there's nothing I can do from here. We have a full flight today."

“And I booked seats on this full flight, Trinity,” Jake said, unable to hide the petulance in his tone. “It’s my honeymoon for God’s sake. Isn’t there anything you can do?”

“Like what?”
“Like put us in the seats I paid for, how about that?” Trinity’s dark eyes seemed to calculate the irritated man

before her. Briefly, she looked at Veronica, then back again to Jake.

“Your honeymoon you said?” Trinity said, her tone now ebbing into something thoughtful.

“That’s right,” Veronica interrupted. “But if there’s nothing you can do it’s really okay...”

“It’s not okay, Veronica,” Jake said, never taking his grilling gaze off of Trinity. “We paid for these seats, and I want these seats.”

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Trinity sighed.

"I'll see what I can do, but I can't promise anything." She took their boarding passes, her movements efficient.

Jake stepped back, a smug smile on his face. "Thank you," he said, the tone implying victory.

Veronica looked at Trinity, then at Jake, her expression a mix of relief and embarrassment. They moved aside, waiting as Trinity spoke into the handheld phone there at the boarding desk - her back to them.

While she was on the phone, Jake looked around the gate. The passengers of flight 801 to Jamaica were certainly an eclectic bunch, a fairly thick mix of black and white, with it being fairly obvious to tell who lived in Jamaica, and who was visiting.

When Jake returned his attention to Trinity at the desk, he was surprised to see a rather large black man behind the desk with

her, the two of them speaking in a hushed tone. The man, decked out with an abundance of dreadlocks that he kept tied into a giant ponytail that ran down his wide back, didn’t appear to work for the airline. He was dressed in a loose-fitting T-shirt, and some basketball shorts that came down to his knees. He had a great shaggy beard flecked with grey here and there, and a huge, full-lipped mouth that broke into a smile at random intervals.

Maybe it’s her brother, he thought. But who the hell cares anyway? Just put me and my wife on this flight and get us to Jamaica already.

Briefly, the Rastafarian’s wide eyes glanced back at Jake and Veronica, his gaze lingering on Veronica. Could Jake really blame the man? Veronica was a ten even after waking up from a hangover or having a cold, but as it was, today she had yoga leggings on that defined every slender curve of her long legs and huge, supple butt. It was a wonder, truly, how a white girl had gotten such an ass, and this one sculpted by years of yoga instruction. Upstairs, she wore a white t-shirt with a clothing logo

across the bust, but the yellow of the logo failed to hide the two perfect perks of her hard, demanding nipples. Double D’s could be hassle for some women to lug around, but not Veronica. She carried them with ease.

But still, the Rastafarian giant stared a little too long for comfort.

Eventually, he walked off, and Trinity the flight attendant turned around to face Jake and his beautiful wife.

“I was able to get you back up into business class,” Trinity said. “You’ll be in row eight, directly behind first class. Does that work for you, Mr. Peters?”

It certainly did work for Jake, but the lingering tone of placation in the woman’s voice made him feel uneasy, and it was slightly insulting.

“Sure we can work with that,” Jake said. “Any chance we can throw in some drink tickets for the hassle?”

Trinity’s expression held onto the last of its patience as a wide, white-tooth smile came across her pretty face. “Once we’re

in the air I’ll make sure to get you whatever you want, Mr. Peters. Now please, we’re getting ready to board. Mind if I get back to work here? You and your wife are not the only people flying with us today.”

Jake bit his tongue and nodded. He and Veronica took a seat at the gate.

2.

The plane's first-class cabin was a stark contrast to the bustling chaos of the airport. Jake and Veronica walked down the narrow aisle, their carry-ons trailing behind them. The first seven rows were an array of luxury, each seat spacious and encased in privacy partitions. Soft lighting illuminated the area, casting a warm glow on the cream-colored leather seats. Overhead compartments were discreetly integrated, maintaining the sleek lines of the cabin.

Passengers were already settled in, some engrossed in their tablets, others reclined, eyes closed, headphones on. The scent of

freshly brewed coffee mingled with a hint of expensive cologne. Flight attendants moved gracefully, offering pre-flight beverages and warm towels.

As they passed through, Jake noted the details: the wide armrests housing touch screen controls, the small lamps on each partition, the hushed conversations. In the last row of first class, the seats were conspicuously empty; untouched pillows and blankets neatly arranged.

Crossing the threshold of the divider curtain, the atmosphere shifted. The first row behind first class was where their seats were located. It was noticeably more cramped, the buzz of the passengers louder, the air tinged with a mix of excitement and fatigue.

They stowed their luggage and took their seats, the leather less supple than what they had just witnessed. Veronica glanced through the partition, catching a last glimpse of the first-class cabin before a flight attendant drew the curtain closed, neatly dividing the two worlds.

“I’ve got the entire second book in that fantasy series I was telling you about,” Veronica said as they settled in. In front of them was the wall that separated first class, allowing them a good deal more leg room than the rest of the plane. “I bet I can finish it in eight hours easy.”

Jake fastened his seatbelt as more passengers filed in past them. “Wish I could take the time for some leisure reading. I need to get done what I can of this paper for class, it’s a real bitch.”

“Oh my, Jakey,” Veronica teased. “I don’t think you get to use the B word when talking about work for your Women’s Studies degree. Some of your professors might find that sort of language in bad taste.”

Jake chuckled. “When you’ve done as much work as I have in the field, you can call women anything you’d like.”

“Sounds kinky,” Veronica whispered in his ear, biting his earlobe.

“My God, V, not here!”

Trinity appeared suddenly beside them like an apparition. There was a warm smile on her face, too warm if you asked Jake. She leaned into their row, speaking to the both of them.

“I just wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding earlier,” Trinity said. “These full flights can be tricky, I hope I didn’t get your vacation off to a poor start.”

Veronica smiled at Jake, imploring him to show the woman some kindness.

“It’s quite alright,” Jake said. “Thanks for taking care of us.”

Trinity smiled and nodded. A silence almost long enough to be uncomfortable passed between the three of them. “I’d like to go one step further and make this up to you,” Trinity said. “Through a stroke of luck, we’ve got a row in First Class available...how would you two like to sit First Class for your honeymoon?”

Veronica and Jake lit up simultaneously. Immediately Jake felt like the world’s biggest clown for giving the sweet woman such a hard time.

Though if you hadn’t, you’d be in the back of the plane right now, Jake. Instead of on your way up to first class!

“That sounds marvelous,” Jake said, collecting his things and Veronica doing the same. “You’re an angel, you know that?”

“I do my best, sir,” Trinity said. “Please, follow me.”

Veronica sidled out in the aisle first, her plump, raised ass practically pulling out of the tight yoga pants – the pink line of her thong visible for just a moment. Jake followed that ass through the curtain, the eyes of a hundred jealous passengers burrowing into his back.

Just as they stepped through the divider, a girl with blonde hair and booty shorts collided with the side of Jake’s body.

“I’m so sorry,” the girl said.

“No problem,’ Jake mumbled. He had a moment to look at her before she disappeared into business class: petite, maybe 21 years old, with a rack the rivaled even Veronica, both the girl’s huge tits stuffed together inside a pink sports bra. Jake must have let his gaze linger a little too long for Veronica’s liking, because his

wife most definitely gave him a silent chastisement before they were shown their new seats.

“Here we are folks,” Trinity said, voice like poisonous honey. “They’re only about three feet from your old seats, but...” she dropped her voice to a whisper. “The air is better in here. You’ll see.”

Veronica went in first, taking the big comfy chair at the window seat. Jake sat beside her, along the aisle, just as the flight captain came over the intercom to announce that everyone needed to take their seats.

“This is really something,” Jake said, understandably excited. “Thank you so much, Trinity, really. I hope I wasn’t rude before...” “It’s quite alright Mr. Peters,” Trinity said. “Once we’re in the

air –
A man cleared his throat. Trinity, Jake, and Veronica looked

up.
“This man is in my seat,” the Rastafarian said, accent thick, a

colorful necklace against his black chest.

Jake froze, brow furrowed. He looked at Trinity.

“May I see your seat, sir?” Trinity asked the man. The Rastafarian produced his boarding pass, handing it to Trinity. She scanned it, then handed it back. “Oh lord, I done made a mistake.”

Jake felt uncertainty stir in his belly. He grabbed hold of Veronica’s hand like she might fly out the window she sat beside...and what was that strange accent in Trinity’s voice all of a sudden? For a brief moment there, the cordiality and professionalism had faded to a southern accent.

“What sort of mistake?” Jake asked.

“The white man is still in my seat,” the Rastafarian said, talking about Jake but staring intently at Veronica.

“Everybody just hold on a second,” Trinity interjected. “Jakey, what’s going on?” Veronica asked.
“This is your flight captain. Please take your seats

everyone...”
Jake looked at Trinity. “What’s going on?”

“I messed up,” she said, that drawl coming through more and more with each passing second. “I guess only one of these seats is available.”

“You’re kidding me,” Jake said, still sitting.

The Rasta became impatient, breathing heavy out his nose and crossing arms over his broad chest.

“Do we have to go back to our regular seats then?” Jake asked.

Trinity bit her bottom lip. “I suppose you could ask this nice gentlemen if he wouldn’t mind swapping seats with you?”

Jake let out an exasperated sigh. He looked up at the Rasta, who was still staring at Veronica. “Um sir, it’s my wife and I’s anniversary...we just got married...do you think maybe we could switch seats?”

“No,” the Rasta said bluntly. “I want my seat and I want it now.”

“This is unbelievable,” Jake said, directing his anger at Trinity. “I mean, I know you tried to do something nice but this is

just absurd! Come on, Veronica. No First-Class after all. Back to Business.”

Pouting, Veronica stood.

“She can stay if she likes,” the Rasta chuckled. “She is not in my seat.”

Jake thought it best to ignore the giant’s overt flirtation, and he and his wife shuffled past and back out into business class.

“I’m just so sorry about this,” Trinity said, walking behind them. “I didn’t know that the seat was taken and...oh my oh my, what do we have here?”

As if things hadn’t gotten mucked up enough, now in their business class row was the girl from before, the sexy 20 something that had bumped into Jake. She had earphones on, and an oversized hoodie that did nothing to hide her sports bra cleavage and bare, flat tummy. She looked up at Veronica and Jake confused.

“Is something wrong?” the girl asked.

“These are our seats,” Jake said, noticeably lighter in the way he spoke to the girl than he had Trinity. The change in his tone was most certainly not lost on Veronica, who was already staring at her husband with accusatory eyes. “We’re sitting here.”

The sexy girl produced her boarding pass without a word and handed it to Trinity.

“Oh lawd, oh lawd, oh lawd,” Trinity said, her southern accent now comically present. “I made myself a big ole’ mistake.”

“Excuse me?” Jake said. “What do you mean? This girl, sorry miss, this woman is in our seats.”

“No sir I’m sorry but she isn’t,” Trinity apologized again. “This is her seat.”

Just then, another flight attendant came to Trinity and whispered something rushed into her ear. The captain came over the intercom and called out a final instruction as the plane began to idle from the gate.

“Well we are in a pickle here,” Trinity said. “I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Peters, but it looks like you two may have to sit separately today.”

Jake couldn’t believe his ears.

“What?” Veronica asked. “For an 8-hour flight? Surely there’s something we could do.”

“I can’t believe that man up there won’t just switch with me!” Jake said, hot in the face and annoyed, the stares of the other passengers now making him sweat.

The girl in the seat listened intently, her quizzical expression starting to put the dilemma together.

“I’m going to need you both to take your seats,” Trinity said. “Otherwise our departure will be delayed.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Jake exclaimed. “This is crazy!”

Trinity’s eyes narrowed, and the false sweetness of before was gone. Suddenly, Jake felt like he was getting played.

“Look sir,” Trinity went on. “We have two seats, one for you, one for your wife. You’ll need to decide right now who is sitting where and then take your seats.”

Jake was so angry he was at a loss for words.

“Calm down,” Veronica whispered. “It’s fine. It’s just a flight. Nobody ever remembers the plane on their vacation anyways, right? Just pick where you want to sit...”

Jake’s heart rate increased. What was he supposed to do?

“You taking first class or is your wife, sir?” Trinity asked. “We need to know now.”

“I, I don’t...this isn’t right,” Jake tried to stay. “It just doesn’t make sense...”

“Pick now sir,” Trinity said roughly. “Or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Jake looked at Veronica in a panic. She stared back at him, her eyes occasionally flinting to the young, sexy woman sitting in her former seat.

“You take first class then,” Jake said finally. “I don’t know what else to do.”

The moment he said it, he knew he’d made a mistake. Veronica’s eyes leveled, first at him, then at the girl.

“Oh I’m sure you’d love that,” Veronica said in a tiff. “Why am I not surprised?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, V?” Jake said, honest innocence in his voice. “Don’t you want first class?”

Veronica turned to Trinity. “I’ll take the seat up front,” she said, without glancing back at Jake. “Lead the way.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Trinity said, suppressing a smirk from her luscious mouth. “You know the way.”

“Veronica wait,” Jake said, reaching out for her as she pulled from his grasp. The last look he saw on his wife’s face before she disappeared into first class was pure, unadulterated anger. “But I didn’t do anything,” he said softly, almost too quiet for anyone to hear. Almost.

“Girls, am I right?” She said, motioning to the seat beside her. “I’m Leanne, by the way. You better take your seat before the people on the plane try to stone you.”

Jake looked down at Leanne. No wonder Veronica was pissed. This girl was a ten, and Veronica was under the delusion that he’d selected this seat so he could sit next to her. It would take the better part of the plane flight to convince Veronica otherwise, he decided.

“Sorry about all that,” Jake said, sitting down beside her and lightly brushing her hand as he reached for his seatbelt. “The flight attendant has messed up every step of the way today.”

Leanne fidgeted with the smartphone in her hand as she watched Jake buckle up. “Well maybe we can turn things around for you...what did you say your name was, again?”

“Jake,” he said. “Jake Peters. And that was my wife, Veronica. We’re newly married.”

“And Veronica wouldn’t be sitting with that tall dark drink of water I saw, would she? The one with dreadlocks?”

Jake shifted uncomfortably. “No, actually I think that’s exactly who she’s sitting with.

“Interesting,” Leanne said. “Something tells me this flight is going to be full of surprises.”

“I hope not,” Jake sighed.

The plane barreled down the runway, the wheels lifted off the tarmac, and flight 801 turned for Jamaica.

3.

The hum of the plane blared in Jake’s ears. He kept his eyes forward, staring at the divider wall where, just on the other side, was his angry wife no doubt collecting her thoughts on all the ways he’d wronged her since leaving the house that morning. It was stupid and silly, he knew, that she should be angry with him over a series of unfortunate events that had led them here.

But still, if he hadn’t argued with Trinity, they’d be sitting together right now.

He glanced to his left, casually but definitively – not wanting to get caught staring. The thing is, Veronica was an outstanding woman – sexy as fuck by every measure of the phrase. Every single one of Jake’s friends had remarked on it at some point, often asking him how he managed to land such a girl, and constantly telling Veronica that she was batting below her league.

But this girl beside him, this Leanne...perhaps it was her youthfulness that had ensnared Jake, but he simply could not stop looking at the girl. Veronica was a ten at 31 years of age...but Leanne couldn’t have been more than 21 or 22, and there was buoyancy to her, er, endowments that defied gravity. The skanky outfit didn’t hurt either.

The plane reached altitude and leveled off. The fasten seatbelt sign remained on and Jake, of course, had no cell phone signal. It was one of the few instances in today’s modern world that he was at a loss to get a hold of his wife.

But when Jake heard the drink cart rumbling up the aisle behind him, he decided this was his honeymoon just as much as it

was Veronica’s. And he wasn’t going to spend 8 hours in sheer misery simply because he couldn’t text his wife I’m sorry as many times as she needed to hear it.

No, he would at least try to enjoy himself.
“I’ll do two whiskeys,” he told the attendant at the cart. “Sounds like someone’s trying to blow off some steam,”

Leanne giggled beside him, leaning over his armrest just enough that her demanding tits pushed against it and thus the side of his arm. “I’m more of a vodka girl myself. I’ll take two as well.”

The attendant fixed them up with their mini bottles and small plastic cup filled with ice. As he fixed his own drink, Jake watched Leanne dump her vodka into the cup and swirl it around, topping it with orange juice.

“So, Jake Peters,” Leanne said, blue eyes fixing him. “We’ve got quite a bit of time until this thing lands. I hope you don’t mind if we maybe chat a little...or maybe you could dish out some of the tea on what led you to this seat today.”

Jake drank. “I don’t want to bore you with my life story,” he said.

“It’s not boring. I love drama. So dish.”

So he did. Explaining everything from the strange conversation between the Rasta and Trinity, up through that sequence of musical chairs that had brought him here. Leanne listened intently, sipping her early cocktail, often staring into Jake’s eyes so fiercely he forced himself to look away.

Is she flirting with me, Jake wondered. It wouldn’t be such a bad way to spend an eight-hour flight except for the fact that you are MARRIED now big boy.

“And now your wife is mad at you because she thinks you picked sitting next to me, a hot young chic, on purpose. Does that about sum it up?”

“More or less,” Jake shrugged. “But what was I supposed to do? Take the first-class seat? Isn’t it better that I offered it to her.”

Leanne put her hand on his arm, lightly flirtatious, but enough for Jake to feel a stir in his groin. He also felt a stir in his

stomach – because what if, God forbid, Veronica came through those first-class curtains and saw her touching him? Apocalypse, that’s what.

“You could have offered me the first-class seat,” Leanne said. Jake found himself staring at her button nose, and full, curving mouth. “That way you two could have sat together.”

Jake admonished himself. “Why didn’t I think of that at the time? Jesus. You could have spoken up you know, Leanne.”

“I liked watching you squirm,” she said, pressing the call button overhead and proceeding to order another round of drinks from the cart. “Don’t worry, Jakey. This round is on me. We’ve got to drown your sorrows, right?”

She was definitely flirting with him. But why? Jake wasn’t a bad looking guy, but he was average at best. He’d snagged Veronica as a life partner out of sheer luck; even Jake knew she was out of his league. But this girl, this Leanne...she was going to get him into trouble.

“What do you do for a living?” Jake asked, hoping to change the subject away from his wife.

Leanne curled a ball of curves and sex, nestled against the corner between her seat and the plane wall. She pulled her knees to her voluptuous chest, which in turn showed off the rounded curves of her ass below. Her blonde hair fell in messy short curls around her elvish face. In many ways, Jake felt like he’d seen her type a thousand times on the explore feed of his Instagram page.

“I’m a model,” Leanne said.

“Not surprising,” Jake said, finding it surprisingly easy to flirt back now that he was through his third mini. “What sort of model?”

Leanne would have blushed if she had any shame. “OnlyFans, actually.”

“There it is then,” Jake replied. “I knew there was something dangerous about you.”

She giggled madly. “What’s so dangerous about OnlyFans?”

“Your generation is a different breed,” Jake mused. “It’s not enough for you to just take pictures of yourselves and post them, you’ve got to do all that...kinky stuff...”

“Kinky stuff, huh?” Leanne pushed. Her blue eyes fluttered from his face, to past his shoulder and back again. “What do you consider kinky, Jake Peters?”

Jake laughed heartily, swallowing his answer down with some whiskey.

“You’re blushing,” she said, reaching out and pushing him in the shoulder. “Did I touch a nerve?”

While Jake continued to shake with laughter, Leanne rang the call button. This time, it was Trinity who came to their aid.

“Everything going alright here I hope,” Trinity said, smiling at Jake’s mirth. “Your wife is getting along fine in first class, I’ll tell you that much. Maybe some absence was needed for fonder hearts.”

Jake stopped laughing. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “You rang the call button, dear?” Trinity said to Leanne.

“I did indeed,” Leanne smirked. “My new friend and I are going to play a game of Never Have I Ever. I was wondering if you’d be so kind as to supply us with the proper playing materials?”

Trinity slapped the back of Jake’s seat and he jumped. She howled. “You mean booze, darlin’? Oh we got plenty of that!” Then, leaning in closer with a whisper, “we’re not supposed to overserve our passengers but since you’ve both been such good sports about everything, I’ll see what I can do.”

Jake watched Trinity disappear through the first-class curtain. Briefly, he could make out the black, muscular arm of the Rastafarian. He was moving in his seat, and an accent undeniably Jamaican sifted through in excited conversation.

That man was talking to Veronica.

By the time Trinity returned with four fresh mini bottles a piece for them, Jake felt himself becoming emboldened by the alcohol. It ate at him a little to think perhaps maybe, however unlikely, that his wife was flirting a big strong Jamaican man

while Jake toiled away in business class. Those meager jealousies became kindle for a fire in the face of the alcohol and the sexy coed sitting beside him, imploring him to drink more.

Fuck it, Jake thought. Two can play at that game.

“I’ll start,” Leanne said, sitting up and twisting the cap off the top of her Titos. “Never have I ever...went to a swingers club.”

Jake grinned like a goof and refrained from sipping. “Come on, do I look that old? Swingers club old? I only just got married.” Leanne accepted the loss and drank. “I thought maybe it was

your second wife or something,” she giggled. “Okay, your turn.” “Never have I ever...sold feet pics online.”
She rolled her eyes and drank. “Okay time to play catch up,”

she said. “Never have I ever...done anal.”
“Wow,” Jake said, sitting up and looking around to make

sure no children were present. “You are a wild one!” “Well?” Leanne said, eyebrows dancing.
Jake shook his head and drank.

Leanne drank too. “Whoopsy,” she said. “Looks like you’re not just the sweet boy you appear to be. You’re kinkier than I thought.”

“If you think butt stuff is kinky,” Jake lowered his voice, leaning in. “But it can a lot crazier than that.”

Leanne raised her eyebrows. The two of them sat, eyes locked, a silence passing. This was getting comfortable. Too comfortable. Especially considering Jake’s wife was literally feet from them.

“Maybe that’s enough drinking for now,” Jake said, shame bubbling in his belly. “I’ve had a lot too fast.”

Leanne leaned into him, and he felt her heavy breasts against his arm. She laid her head on his shoulder just for an instant, but it was enough to turn the tide of uncertainty.

“Come on, just a few more rounds,” she said. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Jake looked at the curtain. He was positive he could hear them chatting now. Indiscernible words but the tone was more

than pleasant enough. Suddenly, Veronica’s laugh cut through the business cabin, and Jake jumped to his feet.

“I just need to use the restroom,” Jake said.

Instead of heading back to the bathroom, Jake went through the first-class cabin.

Immediately on his left was the Rasta, aisle seat, and Veronica, window. As it turned out, they too were imbibing. And not only that, Veronica had removed her shoes and held one of her bare feet in her lap as she laughed and conversed. Jake nearly lost it on them right there.

“Enjoying the flight, V?” Jake asked, interrupting their conversation.

She saw him and glared slightly. “As much as I can I suppose. And you, Jake...or should I call you, Jakey.”

The Rastafarian laughed low, sharing an inside joke with Jake’s wife.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jake said, hearing Leanne in his head – Jakey...

“Whatever you want it to mean,” Veronica spat. “But if you’re looking for the bathrooms, this is first class. Your bathroom is the other way.”

Jake stammered, angry at how amused the black man was. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend?” She rolled her eyes. “This is Damion. Damion, this is my

husband, Jake.”
“Nice to meet you, Damion,” Jake said, every word a mass

effort. “Enjoying getting to know my wife, are you?”
“Jake stop it,” Victoria hissed.
“Hello Jacob,” Damion sang, accent low and rich. “Would

you mind checking my drink order, mon? I haven’t seen my girl Trinity in ten minutes!”

Jake shook his head, shocked at the man’s audacity. He didn’t like the way they were sitting together, not at all. The arm rest between chairs was up, which meant they were free to encroach on one another as they liked. Damion had his long legs spread wide, basketball shorts pulling up along his thighs.

“You and Trinity are friends, huh?” Jake pushed.

“Yes, Jacob,” Damion agreed. “I have known Trinity a very long time, mon.”

So it’s a conspiracy then, Jacob screamed in his mind. I’ll be writing a nice long email to the airlines after this debacle.

“Is there something you need, Jakey?” Veronica said, and this time Jake knew she was drunk. “Or you just going to stand there and block the aisle?”

“I haven’t done anything,” Jake said, embarrassed to argue in front of strangers. “I didn’t pick First-Class for you! And you’re mad at me!”

Veronica leaned forward, over Damion’s lap so she could get closer to Jake’s face. “You could have told that girl to move! But instead you chose to sit next to her rather than your wife on your Goddamn honeymoon! I have never been so angry at you, Jacob Peters!”

Jake winced. His stupidity had gotten him here. Stupidity and conspiracy.

“I wasn’t thinking clearly,” Jake tried to say. “I was confused and that woman, Trinity, she was –

“That is enough now, Jacob,” Damion said in his thick accent. “Please return to your seat. Our captain has turned the seatbelt sign on.”

Victoria offered him no condolences, and Jake stomped back through the curtain to his seat. He sat down beside Leanne and snatched the whiskey mini in his hand.

“Where were we,” he said, as Leanne sat up in her seat, excited to resume. “Oh right. Never have I ever cheated on someone.” His voice was louder now. If Veronica was able to hear him before, well, she’d really hear him now.

Leanne faltered slightly. “Getting personal now, aren’t we?” “Maybe,” Jake said. “Personal is fun.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” she said. “No drinky for me.” “Me either,” Jake said proudly. “Your turn.”

Leanne studied Jake for a moment. She leaned forward in her seat, and Jake looked down the front of that pink sports bra.

Her tits were huge, heavy, and marked with tan lines. She was gorgeous.

“Never have I ever,” Leanne started, “had my ears pierced.”

Jake laughed in spite of his anger. She’d seen the hole in his ear lobe, where the one time he’d gotten them pierced had never fully healed. And he hadn’t worn an actual earring in years.

He looked at Leanne’s ears: pristine.

“Well you got me there,” Jake said, sipping his drink. The reason for the pierced ear flashed in his mind and he pushed it back down into the memory vault.

“Your turn again,” Leanne said, almost impatiently. “Never have I ever...had my nipples pierced.”
“Glug glug glug,” Leanne whispered, ripping into playful

laughter as she brought the mini bottle back to her mouth.
“I knew it,” Jake said.
Leanne looked at his ear again. She bit her bottom lip, and

Jake thought she looked cute enough to fuck.

“This one might seem out there,” Leanne said. “But I’m drunk so no hard feelings, okay?”

“Okay sure,” Jake said. “Do your worst.”
“Never have I ever...worn my partner’s panties.”
Jake scoffed and squinted; it was a weak act. “Excuse me?” “You heard me,” she said, adjusting in her seat and causing

her tits to jostle. “I wanted to be specific since I’m getting hammered over here. I’ve definitely worn panties, but not my partners, because I like big dudes with big dicks, and they don’t tend to wear panties.”

Jake laughed at the indecency of her language, feeling himself flush red.

“Well I can’t drink either,” he said. “I’ve never done that, no, no I haven’t.”

Leanne made a face. “You sure about that, Jakey?”
“Of course I’m sure...I...I...”
She made another face, this one cuter. Jake could feel how

drunk he was, could also feel the anger and jealousy inside, not to

mention the confusion with which this hot little number of a girl presented him with.

“Look, maybe once,” Jake said, finally.

Surprisingly, she didn’t seem to judge him. “Drink up then,” Leanne encouraged, placing her own hand under the bottle and tilting it to Jake’s lips. He took a long swig.

“Now,” Leanne continued, taking the bottle from him and lifting up the arm rest divider between them. She inched forward – Jake hesitated to think of it as snuggling forward but that was sort of what it was. “Tell me about the time you wore wife’s panties. Leave nothing out, and I promise you, no judgement from me. I just like to talk sex, if you can’t tell by now.”

Jake checked his wristwatch. Six and a half hours to go.

He lowered his voice so much that Leanne had no choice but to come even closer to hear the story.

What neither of them knew was that Veronica was at the curtain, peering through, and watching everything.

Chapter 2 – At Altitude

1.

“And your wife...she wasn’t into it?”

“No not really,” Jake said, shocked that he’d even told Leanne this much. “I could tell it weirded her out or something. But at least she tried, you know?”

“How many times?” Leanne asked. “Like, total, have you, you know...cross dressed?”

Jake mulled it over. “When I was a teenager, I used to do it in secret a lot. Maybe as much as every weekend for a time. But after Veronica looked at me funny when I wore her lingerie, I kind of lost interest. It was embarrassing, you know?”

Leanne’s face seemed so cute and sincere that it was easy for Jake to open up.

“I think it takes a real man to open up about who he really is,” Leanne said, looking hopeful out the window at the white

puffs of cloud. “You shouldn’t have stopped. You should have explained to her that it’s what you wanted.”

Jake shook his head. “It’s not what I want. Not anymore. I have a beautiful, sexy wife...I don’t need to do that kind of stuff.”

“Don’t bury who you are just to please someone else, Jakey,” Leanne said, clearly drunk. “If it was in you then, maybe it still is.”

Jake waved it off like he was tired of talking about it. “I shouldn’t have said all that anyway. But thanks for listening and not judging.”

“Of course,” she replied. Leanne’s smartphone rested on her lap as it had the entire flight so far. The screen was black, and occasionally she would fidget with it in her hands but nothing more. Jake thought it was sort of surprising that a girl her age, with an OnlyFans to boot, could stop herself from sitting on her phone for any amount of time. It was, dare he think it, almost attractive.

Jake cleared his throat. “So...just curious, but, do you go by Leanne on OnlyFans as well?”

“Why, Jake? You wanna pull up my account and see my tits?” Jake snorted. “No no, I...I’m sorry, I’m drunk, I shouldn’t...” “It’s okay,” she smiled. “I don’t blame you. Neither do my

thousands of subscribers.” “Thousands?”

“Thousands.”
“Sheesh,” he said.
From the first-class cabin came Veronica’s high laugh again,

and below that the masculine rumblings of Damion’s bass. In his drunken urgency to confide in Leanne, he’d sort of lost sight of how angry his wife was at him, and how angry he was at her. With every drink he took, the more Jake felt that he’d done nothing to deserve her wrath.

Even if he’d been looking down this girl’s shirt for the last two hours and was now inquiring as to how he might get a look at the goods.

“Tell me, Jakey poo,” Leanne said, leaning forward in her seat so as to slip the open jacket off around her petite frame. Now,

with it removed, her entire toros was bare except for the pink sports bra. Jake saw how fit she really was, just how pristine her college-aged body was. “Other than your failed experiments, how’s your sex life with Veronica?”

She said it a little louder than he would have liked. Though Jake struggled to hear the details of Veronica’s conversation in First-Class, there were things Veronica said that led him to believe that she had no problem hearing his conversation with Leanne.

“Keep your voice down,” Jake said, trying not to sound like a pussy. “If my wife hears us talking about this stuff, she’ll kill me.”

“You sound scared of her,” Leanne flirted, turning her body so that her back was flat against the plane wall, and no she faced Jake full on with her seductive and scantily clad body. “That can’t be healthy in the bedroom.”

“We have a great sex life,” Jake said. “I mean, I think it’s great. You’d have to ask her what she thinks.”

Leanne giggled. “Want me to go ask her now?”

“If you want me to open the emergency exit and jump out, then yes, by all means, go ask my wife about our sex life. Why not just throw in that I asked you for your OnlyFans ‘at’ while you’re at it.”

She repositioned in her seat, slipping her feet out of a pair of crocs and placing her arches together. This put Leanne in a yoga pose of sorts, and pulled the short shorts she wore further up her thighs until they creased against her pelvis like underwear. Jake found himself staring at that dangerous line between her crotch and indecency. Another centimeter and he was certain the softness of her lips would show.

“Do you ever get jealous?” Leanne asked. “Like right for example? She’s in there chatting with that big guy, telling him God knows what, and let’s face it – I saw your wife, she’s hot as fuck, Jakey. You know he’s in there eyeing her.”

Jake swallowed. “Are you trying to make me jealous?”

“Maybe,” Leanne giggled. “Or maybe you should stick up for yourself. Show your wife that you’re not some beta male who is

going to take his medicine and shut up while she shakes her tits for some stranger.”

Jake felt the alcohol in his head. Domed, as he liked to call it. He didn’t want what Leanne was saying to make sense, but it did.

“Know how I know you’re no beta, Jakey?”
“How’s that?”
“Because you’re not subscribed to me,” Leanne said. “You get

pussy. Married some, right? You don’t need to spend money to see my tits when you have hers. So it begs the question, why are you letting your wife treat you like this when you are clearly a man. A real man, with lots of potential.”

Jake straightened in his seat. His posture elongated, his chest out. Leanne was looking at him with an almost insatiable lust, the sort of face you saw these TikTokers making when they wanted your subscription. He couldn’t help that it filled him with false confidence – this girl was driving him mad.

“She’ll be hearing about it when we land,” he said sternly. “Don’t you worry.”

“Why wait till then?” Leanne pushed. “I can hear them in there literally right now. When’s the last time your wife laughed for you like that, Jakey? You know in first-class they have blankets. Big blankets that can cover two people easily. I don’t want to put any ideas in your head but...”

Jake’s heart rate quickened. “I can’t believe she would turn on me like this. All because of some stupid mix up.”

“Women are fickle things,” Leanna said, pressing her feet together and letting her splayed legs drift wider apart. The hem on the right leg of her elastic short shorts flipped against itself, revealing the fleshy, smooth succulence of a single pussy lip. She pretended not to notice when Jake caught his breath. “It’s best to remind women in less direct ways, I think. You can’t storm into first class and demand they stop talking...but you could remind her how handsome you are, how charming, how easy it is for you to get with girls, even ones younger than you.”

Jake’s eyes traced the line of her cunt; the exposed lip to the camel toe after it.

“I don’t know,” he licked his lips. “Seems like it’s just going to piss her off more.”

“It’ll wipe the smile right off her face,” Leanne whispered. “And when she sees what a commodity you are, I bet she changes her little song and dance real fast.”

Leanne’s hand drifted towards Jake’s pants. He flinched. Her fingers found his pocket and crawled inside, grabbing hold of the cell phone there and finagling it out. She opened the camera and held it out in front of her as she leaned into Jake’s frame.

Click.

Jake looked at the photo. In it, Leanne was winking, with her tongue out, and a peace sign up. Jake had a smug grin on his face, and their faces were all but pressed together. It was, he knew, an atomic bomb for his marriage.

“What am I doing,” he said suddenly. “I can’t send this. She’ll kill me.”

“Are you sure?” Leanne said. “I’m telling you, Jake – you need to remind her what your potential is.”

“Not like this,” he said, words starting to slur. “She’ll kill me...besides, there’s no signal on the flight. There’s no way to send it.”

Leanne cocked her head and examined him for a moment. Then, with a cat’s grace, she took the phone from him and angled the screen away. “I’ll just delete it then, we can’t have Jakey poo getting into trouble.

Jake got a hold of himself, trying to snap himself awake out of his drunken stupor. He’d almost made a terrible mistake. Thank God the lack of wi-fi on the plane was absolutely fool proof.

Whoosh. The sound came from the phone. A high, windy noise. Brief, but deadly.

“Oh shoot,” Leanne said, biting her bottom lip. “I think I accidentally sent it via air drop.”

Jake sat up. “Air what?”

“Air drop,” Leanne said, handing the phone back to him apologetically. “I didn’t mean to, Jake...”

Jake looked at the phone. The horrible picture looked back.

“You’re telling me you sent this...to Veronica?”

Leanne looked down, pretending to notice her exposed pussy for the first time. She unraveled the hem and put her legs down. “Oh silly me! I’m such a klutz!”

Jake went pale.

2.

Jake knew Veronica received the photo the instant her constant laughter cut off.

“I am so fucked,” he whispered. “What have I done...”

“Relax, Jakey,” Leanne implored. “It’s not a big deal. Just a lover’s quarrel, right?”

The call button went off inside first class, and Jake trembled as he watched Trinity make her way past him and through the curtains. This was bad. Very bad, and he had half a mind to throw himself off the plane.

“What’s the worst that can happen, Jake?” Leanne prodded. “Look, I’ll make you a deal...if you’re in trouble with the wife, I’ll...well, you know, I’ll make it up to you.”

Jake found himself less and less interested in what the girl was saying, chalking her up to a demon or an intentionally idiotic blonde. His fear mounted so great in his stomach he thought he’d be sick but suddenly an unexpected sound came from first class that seemed to turn everything he thought on its head.

It was Trinity, she was laughing – hard.
Jake looked at Leanne. She smiled.
Then Veronica joined the laughter. What was so funny, he

wondered? And as the two women on the other side of the divider continued to yuck it up, a third laughter joined – Damion. But his wasn’t the same as theirs. Not just because of the masculine quality of it, but because of something else...like he was laughing at a different joke.

“What the fuck is going on up there,” Jake said quickly.

Leanne leaned over the armrest that separated them, shoving her demanding breasts into his side, and cupping Jakes crotch.

“Whoa!” Jake gasped. “Wait a minute!”

“Sounds like they’re having all sorts of fun up there without you, Jakey,” she whispered. “Why don’t we try some fun of our own?”

She grappled his crotch, digging deeper.
“Where is it,” she said urgently. “Oh, there he is. How cute.” Jake gulped. “Wait a minute Leanne, we can’t do this, we

can’t...”
The laughter from first class rang in his ears, his eyes closed,

Leanne dug around, trying to grasp his petrified dick over the pants.

“Relax little Jakey,” she giggled, and he felt her breath on his neck. “We’re just having some fun...”

Jake pushed her off of him just before Trinity strode through the curtain with a brown paper bag in her hand and a fool’s grin on her face.

“This is for you, from your wife,” Trinity said, barely able to keep it together. “She said you’re going to need it for when we land in Jamaica.”

Confused and drunk, Jake took the bag. In his daze, he didn’t quite recognize that Trinity was standing there watching, or that Leanne was looking at the bag like it contained all the secrets of the world. Both women leaned in as he reached in and pulled out the bag’s contents.

It was pink. At first, he thought it a fancy first class cocktail napkin.

“Oh my,” Leanna said, donning amusement in her voice. “I was not expecting that...”

Trinity’s laugh was low and throat, starting deep in her throat until she was guffawing blatantly.

Jake held up the pink thong. The one he’d glimpsed against his wife’s rear earlier in the flight. These were them, no question. Which meant she was obviously no longer wearing them.

And worse than that, Jakey, is she doesn’t have a skirt or a dress on. Getting this little pink thong off meant working around those yoga pants, which you know just isn’t possible. Everything had to come off to get these...

“I can’t believe this,” Jake stuttered. “What the fuck.”

“Why would you need those in Jamaica, Jakey?” Leanne asked. “Unless, well, you did mention that one thing to me...”

Trinity’s eyebrows went up. “What thing?”
“None of your business,” Jake said, exasperated.
“I’m sure your wife will spill,” Trinity said. “She’s warmed up

to me a good bit. Which reminds me, I need to get her and Damion another drink.”

Trinity vanished. Jake crumpled the panties up into his hand, and without a better place to stash them, stuffed the garment down into his pocket. The whole thing had been so traumatizing, that he momentarily forgot Leanne’s previous urgency.

He turned to her now, sad to see the lust in her expression replaced by amusement. She was laughing at him, it was obvious.

“Don’t look so glum,” she said. “There’s always plan B.”

Leanne leaned forward, over the arm rest, breasts smushing against him and Jake melting like chocolate left in the sun. Her hand found his crotch one more.

“No one has to know,” she whispered. “And later, when you swallow your pride and apologize and take the blame for everything, you can do so knowing you got even first. Right, Jakey? It’s all a game anyway...now if I could just find your cock...”

Jake looked at the curtain, praying no one came through to see what was happening. He spotted Leanne’s jacket on the floor, and grabbed it, using it as a blanket as she began to pull his zipper down.

“I saw what your wife was wearing,” Leanne whispered, hand slipping through the crotch hole of Jake’s pants. “Those yoga pants were tight on her ass. How do you think she got these

panties off for you? I could hear her laughing the whole flight, so I know she didn’t do it in the bathroom...”

Her hand closed around his dick. It had never been anything to write home about, at a whopping 4.5 inches hard and thin like a pencil, but the moment Leanne touched it he seemed to grow as fierce as he ever had. She began to stroke, her mouth to his ears.

“Relax, Jakey poo. It’s not cheating, not after what your wife did. Sitting up there with the Rasta mon, pulling those yoga pants off one inch at a time. Have you ever worn leggings, Jakey? Who am I kidding, of course you have. We all know your little secret. So you know how hard it is to pull those things off. I can’t imagine doing it on a plane, even in first class. She probably had to shift this way and that, I’m sure Damion saw everything. Maybe he even copped a feel, it would explain how giddy your wife seems to be...shh, listen, Jakey...”

His eyes were clamped shut tight and the feel of Leanne’s professional palm against his dick was more intoxicating than all the mini’s he’d had combined. Though he could hear the sexy girl

breathing in his ear, he could also hear Veronica carrying on with Damion, a new, more excited fervor to her tone.

“I bet he’s got a huge cock,” Leanne continued. “Probably too big for your wife. Especially if she’s used to this thing in my hand.” She giggled, and it stabbed him. “Has she ever complained about your dick? I’m no size queen, so I’m not judging. But your wife, Jakey...sheesh, she’s got a dump truck. How does this make it past those muffins when you’re hitting it from the back.”

Jake tried to speak, but he was overwhelmed.

“Oh my...So you’ve never done it then? Doggystyle? What a shame, Jakey...I don’t want to put any ideas in your head, but if I was your wife, I’d want that very badly. It feels so good.”

“Stop it,” Jake whined. “Please...”

“Do you really want me to stop? Then go ahead. Push my hand away...no? That’s what I thought. Now hand me those panties, Jakey.”

Without thinking, Jake retrieved the thong from his pocket and threw it at her. Leanne paused briefly in her stroking to wrap

the garment up in her hand, and then she resumed, the silk thong rubbing the length of his dick as she jerked him off under the jacket.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Fucking hell...”

“Maybe she wants you to keep those panties so you can wear them...maybe she’s decided to embrace your little sissy boy fantasy now that the Rasta showed her his first-class cock. Maybe she’s already invited him back to your hotel –

“FUCK,” Jake gasped, louder than he meant to. Sadly, that expletive was Leanne’s cue, and all at once she let go of his panty-clad penis and tugged her jacket off his lap. Flailing without one iota of what to do, Jake’s exposed penis began to spurt cum, soaking the pink panties, making a mess on his lap.

Leanne giggled incessantly as he tried to clean himself up, but he never looked over at her, inclining his body away from the aisle, reaching frantically for something – anything to cover up with, and settling for stuffing the whole mess, panties and all, back down into his crotch hole.

“What the fuck what the fuck!” Jake mumbled, his oversensitive dick screaming at him as the last of it dribbled out inside his pants. When he looked up at Leanne, ready to cuss her out for such treatment, he saw her face covered by her cellphone.

She was recording everything.

3.

The flight captain came over the intercom to inform the passengers that they were halfway to Jamaica. Jake decided it had already been the longest flight of his life, and he’d been to New Zealand. This was worse. Much worse.

“What are you going to do with that?” He asked through clenched teeth, trying to reposition himself in his seat so that the scrunched mess of panties and cum in his slacks wouldn’t be quite so uncomfortable.

“Oh nothing,” Leanne said, scrolling through her phone. “So long as you’re a good boy for the rest of the flight.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Leanne looked up at him, her crystal blue eyes of a different nature. Who knew something so petite could be so dangerous?

“I’m done with these games,” Jake said, unbuckling his seatbelt. “When I get back from the bathroom I’m going to talk to that Trinity and see about –

Leanne flipped her phone so he could see the screen. It was Jake, an absurd scene, dick out wrapped in panties and his face comically pained.

“Is your wife’s air drop Veronica Peters?” Leanne asked. “It probably is, huh? Think she’ll find this photo funny too?”

Jake froze. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Sit back down,” she snapped. “Now.”
Jake dropped back into his seat. “I need to use the

bathroom.”
“For number one or number two?”
He blushed. “Number one...and to clean up this mess you’ve

made...”
“Aw, did Jakey poo not enjoy his handy?”

“You could have at least finished...”

“You did that fine all by yourself,” Leanne said. “Now buckle your seatbelt. I haven’t given you permission to go to the bathroom.”

Jake implored her with his eyes. “Please tell me you’re joking?”

“You get up without my permission and Veronica gets an airdrop,” she said. “Simple as that.”

“I can’t believe this is happening...”

“Oh relax,” she giggled, scrolling through her phone once more. “Just some fun to pass the time. When the flights over you’ll never hear from me again.”

Jake leaned back. He could hear them in first class, still talking, still laughing. He desperately wanted to see what they were doing.

“What if you checked on them for me,” Jake asked when he could take it no more. “Got up and peaked your head in just to see?”

“To see what?” Leanne laughed. “If your wife is blowing the Rasta?”

Jake scoffed.

“I doubt it,” she laughed. “Typically you go to the airplane bathroom for that sort of thing.”

“You’re a menace, you know that?” Jake said. “A fucking banshee! Were you really playing me this whole time?”

Leanne shrugged. “I know beta boys when I see them. Deal with them everyday in my inbox, begging me for pics or a visit. When you got flustered before takeoff, you practically sealed the deal by letting your wife sit next to that man. Honestly, you have no one to blame but yourself.”

“Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t like being talked to that way, Jakey.”

“Oh no?”
“Not at all...I guess you’ll need to be disciplined...” Jake laughed. “You’re not serious.”

She sat up and looked him in the eyes. “You know what, Jakey? I changed my mind. You can go to the bathroom. But not to pee. You have to hold that. I want you to go in there and change into those panties.”

“No fucking way,” he said.

“I guess it’s Air Drop for you then,” Leanne spat, turning to her phone like she meant to send it right there. Jake tried to call her bluff, waiting a moment, pretending he didn’t care...

Then he grabbed her hands. “Okay stop! Come on! Please don’t do this!”

“The panties, Jakey poo, now,” Leanne said, pointing at his crotch. “And no pee. I want you to record every second from the time you get out of your chair till when you get back. I’m going to check it. Anything seems fishy and whoosh! Veronica gets airmail.”

Jake felt nauseous. He’d had too much to drink. Just then, Trinity passed by, and Leanne called out for more booze.

“Now hurry and get back,” Leanne said, openly recording him now with her phone. “And don’t forget to document all of it. Starting now.”

Jake had a hard time bringing himself to make the first move, but eventually he took his phone and flipped to the video camera. He pressed record.

“And before I forget,” Leanna said suddenly, leaning over her seat to grab the carry-on backpack below. “One other thing.” She rifled through the bag, what looked mostly like workout gear, and produced a pink, frilly bra. The tag on the back said 34GG. “Put this on too.”

“Come on, Leanne...”

“Don’t whine...besides, if you’re a good boy, no one has to know your secret. This is what you want anyways, isn’t it? I heard the way you talked about cross dressing...it’s not a phase for you, sweetie. It is you. Now run along.”

She tossed the bra at him. Jake looked across the aisle, to the people asleep. If he was lucky, maybe the rest of the flight could

pass without incident. He had, after all, gotten a hand job from another woman. Regardless of what he thought Veronica was up to, he had no real proof of anything, and needed to be careful.

So, Jake balled the bra up and put it under his shirt.

“Change and come back,” she reminded him. “You haven’t earned the potty yet, you bad girl.”

Jake turned for the black of the plane, wondering how this flight could get any worse.

4.

The bathroom was cramped. It was difficult to get his shorts down, and when he did, the extent of the mess Leanne had made was revealed. The panties were wadded and stuffed inside the crotch of his boxers, dried cum all over everything. He sorted everything out and stood there naked from the waist down, doing his best to wash the panties off in the sink. He’d positioned the camera, which had recorded every moment thus far, against the mirror.

Now, all he had to do was apply the wet, silky panties.

The thong dragged across his leg hair, every inch a defeat, until the wet string of it came to wiggle between his ass cheeks. With the camera catching it all, he adjusted his package inside the cup, finding it sadly accommodating. With the thong as wet as it was from the sink, it clung to his skin, a constant reminder.

Removing his shirt, he went for the bra.

It was rough against his chest, the wire of it making itself known along his ribs. It took him a few minutes to get the clasp in the back, it having been so long since he’d done this at all.

He looked in the mirror. He wore two different shades of pink, his dick and nuts completely inside the panties, and the cups of the bra far too big for his nonexistent tits. Before Jake even pulled his clothes back on, he knew the bra was going to be a problem.

It stuck out – the cups. It pressed against the front of his T-shirt like there was supposed to be something more there.

Anyone who saw him like this might assume he was smuggling drugs on an airplane. But Leanne would know.

He tried everything he could to get the bra cups to lessen, but in the end had to settle for hunching over and hoping no one noticed. The thong wasn’t very comfortable in his slacks – still wet, with little chance of driving, wedging up into his plump ass like floss to teeth.

Still recording, he picked the phone up and left the bathroom.

The aisle wasn’t as bad as he thought. The walk of shame, as it were. Most people were sleeping or lost in their own worlds. But Trinity was up and about, and the very moment she laid eyes on him Jake knew that she had caught wind of something. It was like this shocked recognition of he actually did it. There was no way her reaction was anything else.

Jake tried to sidestep her in the middle of the aisle.

“Looking a lil’ light up front, sugar,” Trinity whispered. “Let me see if I can find something to help you with that.”

Jake didn’t know what that meant, didn’t want to know. He scurried back to his seat and sat down. Leanne was all bubbles and smiles.

“Let’s see the video,” she said, holding out her hand for the phone.

“Don’t send shit to Veronica,” he mumbled, handing it over. “And I really need to pee, so if you wouldn’t mind...I’d like permission now.”

She didn’t answer him, her eyes on his phone, watching every moment of his shame. When he went naked from the waist down, she tilted the phone so Jake could see.

“I can’t even see your dick when it’s flaccid,” Leanne giggled. “And you don’t even have pubic hair! That’s supposed to help with size, not hurt it. Fucking hell. Jakey the clitty boy.”

Jake hung his head in shame as the girl laughed and laughed “Oops! Here comes the panties! How cute! Looks like it fits you well. Keeps your little clitty in place.”

“Jesus,” he groaned.

“I can’t believe I actually touched that thing,” she said, betraying a hint of disgust. “I’m going to have to really make this worthwhile.”

Jake couldn’t take it anymore. “May I please use the restroom now? I have to...go.”

“No you may not,” she said. “Hold it.”

When the video was over, and Leanne was satisfied that Jake hadn’t urinated, she handed him back the phone.

“I really have to go,” Jake said, legs jittering, the uncomfortable wet thong pressing against dick. “You can’t control me like some animal!”

“Aw, does poor Jakey poo need to go wee wee?” Leanne snickered. “I’ll let you go soon enough. But I think our gorgeous flight attendant has something for you.”

Jake turned and saw Trinity coming up the aisle. She carried two yellow oxygen masks, the sort that drop out of the overhead bins when cabin pressure is lost. The plastic bags attached to the end of them were partially deflated, but puffed out when she

crinkled them to her chest. Trinity had the most devious smile Jake had ever seen any human being ever have.

“Here we go,” Trinity grinned, dumping the masks into Jake’s lap. “Found some extras in the back. I think these will work.”

“What the fuck is this?” Jake asked, bewildered.

Leanne picked up the masks, a horrible smile spreading across her face as she balled the plastic end up over the mask itself, creating a strange, inflated shape. “I think these will work perfect,” she said to Trinity.

“What the hell are you doing!” Jake hissed, trying to fight off Trinity as she grabbed his shirt and pulled it up. The pink bra beneath with its empty cups was exposed, and both women began to giggle and laugh as they went about stuffing the falsies inside it.

The plastic of the mask rubbed his skin, and the inflated bag pushed the cups out to their maximum size, and Jake found himself struggling to resist the women as the burning in his bladder began to intensify.

“Please,” he groaned, looking across the aisle for some sort of savior but seeing only sleeping passengers. “Fuck...no...”

“There we go, sugar,” Trinity laughed. “Get em’ nice and tucked and even and nobody gonna be able to tell the difference.”

“Quit fighting it,” Leanne said. “Or your wife gets everything, your little bathroom masterpiece included!”

When they finally unhanded him, Jake yanked his t-shirt down and was met with the sight of his new “tits.” They pushed at the front of shirt round and full, and he could feel the cone of the masks pressed into chest. The partially inflated bag pushed all the air to one end, due to the rubber bands wrapped at the base (thanks Trinity), and it was actually a marvel that they looked so real.

“I can’t do this,” he pleaded. “I can’t! I have to take this off!”

“Touch those tits and your honeymoon becomes honeyhell, Jakey,” Leanne spat.

Jake had to pee. And Trinity was laughing in his ear. Constant, rhythmic, and horrible. The panties hadn’t dried, the

thong wedged between his ass, and as he became more and more stressed, the waistline cut deep into his crotch, slicing into his full bladder.

“Now cross your legs,” Leanne said.
“What?”
“Go on and do it, Sugar,” Trinity said, leaning against his

seat to block anyone’s view who might be interested. “I wouldn’t test that white girl, she a firecracker!”

Thinking perhaps it might ease the pain in his bladder, Jake crossed his legs. Sadly, it made the burning worse.

“Almost a proper lady,” Leanne giggled, snapping quick pics with her phone.

“Don’t do that!” Jake whispered.

Trinity grabbed Jake’s tit and gave it a hard squeeze. “Damn,” she said. “It’s squishy but it works! Almost like the real thing!”

Jake sat there gripping the arm rest, fighting the urge to wet himself. The hum of the plane made him feel like he’d been

swallowed up by some great beast, and every time the slightest bit of turbulence sent the plane to shaking his bladder burned all the more. He had to go.

“Please,” Jake said, leaning into Leanne and outright begging. “I need to go to the bathroom! PLEASE!”

Leanne flashed a devilish grin and lifted her phone to her face, navigating to some unseen treasure there that made her smile grow even more malicious than it already was.

“Oh wow,” Leanne giggled. “Trinity, have you ever seen one this big?”

She held the phone out to the flight attendant, who took it and observed whatever was on screen, her dark eyes going wide with disbelief.

“I’ve seen some donkey dicks in my day,” Trinity gasped, “but that one right there just about takes the cake, sugar!”

Jake hadn’t the slightest clue what they were discussing but found himself growing more irritated the longer Leanne ignored his request. Who was she to deny him a basic human right?

“That’s it I’ve had it,” Jake said, starting to stand, doing his best to ignore the obvious humiliations and the other not so obvious ones attached to his body. “I have to go to the rest room right now!”

Leanne grabbed his arm and pulled him back down into the seat, with some help from a shove from Trinity.

“You can go pee,” Leanne said, taking her phone back from Trinity and turning the screen so that Jake could see it. “But first I want to know your thoughts on this.”

At first, Jake assumed Leanne had pulled some porn up on her phone. Quite lude, actually – one of those girthy black python cocks that adult actors like Shane Deisel and Mandingo possessed. But something in the photo in particular caught his eye and made him realize this was no random performer. This behemoth of a cock was on the plane - this plane. He knew because of the seats in the background. Furthermore, he knew instantly that this could only be a cock in First Class.

And then he saw the small white hand underneath it, holding it up like it were a slab of pork roast for dinner. The glint of a diamond ring. Veronica’s ring.

Jake’s face went hot, and he forgot to breathe.

“What the fuck is this,” he said, devastated. “What, what, what – what the fuck is this!”

“I don’t think your wife liked that photo of my tits I air dropped her,” Trinity giggled like a schoolgirl. “While you were gone, I mean, I may or may have not, or actually – definitely did – airdrop her a pic of my tits with a caption that said your husband wants us to compare.”

Jake’s seething expression stayed focused on the monstrosity on the phone screen and his wife’s hand dwarfed beneath him. Peering closer, he saw the furiously typed caption below – compare this skank!

“You did what?” Jake said. It was all he could come up with.

Trinity’s horrible mocking laughter came once more. “Well let’s see it then, child. Go on and whip out your artillery!”

Jake looked away from the camera screen, vision swimming. “What?”

“You heard me!” Trinity said, reaching for his crotch. “Let’s get a look!”

“WHAT! NO! STOP!”

Leanne dug her fingers into his ribs and Jake made a sound that was the opposite of his own inner turmoil – he shrieked with laughter. Still her fingers came, digging and fiddling and prodding – tickling him. While Jake tried to fight her off, Trinity got hold of his button and zipper. As he laughed and shrieked, the other people on the flight were finally starting to look at what was going on...but because of Jake’s incessant giggling, it seemed all in good fun.

The problem was, Jake was on the verge of pissing himself. “HAHA! DON’T! HAHA! WAIT! HAHA NOOOO!”
“Jakey poo is ticklish,” Leanne laughed manically, using two

hands now to find his ribs, belly, and groin. And as he thrashed

about in hysterics, Trinity was able to shuffle his pants down, revealing the pink thong beneath.

“Oh child!” Trinity said, tears of mirth in her eyes. “You are one strange little man!”

She pulled the slip of the thong aside, and there was Jake’s penis. A white, flaccid grub, on the thinner side with no length at all. And due to his very full bladder the thing seemed to be pulling in on itself as it fought not to lose control.

“HAHAHAH!” Trinity roared.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” Leanne shrieked with delight, bringing her phone side by side with Jake’s limp dick, the fat black Rasta cock filling the screen. She scooped Jake’s winky into her own palm, same position as Veronica’s in the photo, and bobbled it a bit. “IS this a joke, Jakey poo?”

Gasping, grimacing, tightening, and holding back, Jake looked down at the comparison. Nothing in his life had ever been so demeaning. In many ways, due to the contrast in color and

every sizeable metric, they didn’t even look like the same body part. Nor in fact did they look like they belong to the same species.

“HAHAHAHA!”
“HAHAHAHA!”
Jake, overcome with humiliation and anger, grabbed the

crotch covering of the thong and yanked it back over his dick to hide it all away.

Without warning, Leanne took two fingers, and stabbed them into Jake’s groin – just below the belly button, just above the pelvic bone. The pain surged hot like a knife, and then....and then he was pissing himself.

“Oh you bad boy,” Leanne gasped.

“No,” Jake whimpered, feeling the simultaneous rush of relief and regret. “No...”

Trinity scowled. “Now who the hell you think cleaning up that mess, boy!”

The pink thong saturated with urine, piss sprayed wildly, and in a few seconds flat Jake was soaked. Shorts, thong – all of it.

“You’re lucky I don’t check bags,” Leanne whispered in his ear. “I keep all my clothes in my carry on. Let’s see if we can’t find something more comfortable for you to wear, Jakey Poo...”

But Trinity was pissed. “To hell with all that,” she said, her breath hot on Jake’s neck. “I got something special for you, sugar.”

5.

In the end, the two she devils compromised.

As Jake sat there in his own urine, head down in defeat, Leanne rifled through her carry on while Trinity disappeared to the back of the plane. He had a moment of quiet reflection, tracing the steps of his own demise all the way back to the gate in LAX. His own urine clung to him, the thong a soaked band aid on the gaping gushing wound of his pride. The pants he wore were pulled up to cover his humiliation, though they too were covered in a puddle of his own detritus.

In first class, Veronica’s laughter had dissipated. But occasionally, other sounds came through. Or rather, noises. Something softer yet more animal-like. A grunt, perhaps. Not Veronica. But there were wispy notes too, high and floating. Without any communication at all over the last 6 hours, Jake recognized that a combination of unfortunate circumstances and serious manipulation were carpet bombing his new marriage into dust.

And it was all too much, and he just didn’t have the answer he needed.

“This should do,” Leanne said, returning her attention to Jake. “But I don’t want to go messing with that bra and your new accessories, so you can just change into these until Trinity gets back.”

Jake looked at the garment she was offering him: a garish spectacle of hot pink and purple, an assault on subtlety with over-the-top frills and ruffles. Each ruffle was meticulously overlapped, forming a texture that resembled a carnivorous plant

more than an article of clothing—sharp, almost aggressive in its intricacy. A central bow was a deceptively innocent touch, a red herring that belied the potential discomfort of such an elaborate design. This was no thong, but a full undergarment, meant to house ass and thighs and whatever else you through at it.

“Kind of like the world’s sexiest diaper if you think about it,” Leanne laughed. “Which is good for little piss ants like you who can’t hold their bitch bladders.”

Leanne tossed it in his lap. “Change,” she said.
“Here?”
“Here,” she replied. “I think it’s best we keep an eye on you

right now.”
“And if I say no?” Jake challenged, searching the cute girl’s

face for some semblance of mercy. “You’ve already tanked my marriage, even after you said you wouldn’t. What kind of dirt can you possibly have left after what you pulled?”

Leanne shook her phone. “There’s lots your wife still hasn’t seen. Audio too, of everything we’ve talked about since you sat

down...not to mention, it isn’t just your wife’s wrath you have to worry about – it’s the entire internet. Of which I have many, many followers. So if you want to push my buttons and argue with me, Jake Poo, go right on ahead and do it. But I will fuck you over, again and again, just because it’s fun. So put the fucking panties on, okay?”

“You’re an evil bitch, you know that?” Jake said, looking over his shoulder at the other passengers nearby, who had become more than curious about what was going on in that row. “You can’t expect me to expose myself on an airplane!”

“Oh sugar,” Trinity said, coming up beside him suddenly. “I’ll stand right here and block you so ain’t nobody got to see. And my, ain’t those pretty?” She had clothes in her arms, the same color and material as the ones she wore.

Jake looked from Trinity to Leanne, hoping for some last second clemency, but found none. Quickly, he kicked his shoes off and pulled down his soaked pants and panties. His sad white

penis flicked this way and that as he got the garments off his ankles.

“Clean that mess up,” Trinity said, tossing wet naps into his naked lap. The square package was of a comparable size to his flaccid dick. Jake tore the tiny wet napkins open, unfolded them, and dabbed. Leanne giggled as he did it, and he was certain then and there as the cold kiss of the sterile wipes touched his pale skin that this was the most humiliating moment of it all.

“Now the panties,” Leanne urged.

He pulled the polyester nightmare over his feet and up to cinch low on his crotch. They clung tight, frilled to excess, and the moment they were on the two women erupted once more into fits of laughter. Jake looked down at them, at his breasts underneath his shirt, and sighed sadly.

“I’m gonna need help with this,” Trinity said to Leanne, passing a pair of black stockings across Jake’s eyeline. “And no fussin’ from you, sissy boy. You need a change of clothes, and I got you one. Beggars can’t be choosers!”

Jake found himself shirtless for a brief moment – just him and his stuffed bra and frilly panties. He realized how insane it all was, to be sitting there on an airplane, stripped down not to his skivvies, but someone else’s – a woman’s. He was cold then, vulnerable in a way he’d never known before. And it was all a joke to his tormentors as the leggings came on over his feet, cinched up to the bottom hem of the panties, tight and constricting and silky and oddly comfortable.

“Aren’t you cute,” Leanne laughed. “A bit slutty in the leggings and undies, huh?”

Then, in a flurry, came the flight attendant uniform. A deep navy blue, form fitting dress that was short on Jake and gave the full range of the black stockings attached to his legs. A black belt cinched at the waist. A full bust, no cleavage, but God did he have huge tits, so huge in fact that Jake became woozy with the disorientation of feeling like someone else. They tied a checkered scarf about his neck like a collar.

“These oughta’ fit yo’ little ass,” Trinity added, tossing black high heels at his silky small feet. Leanne helped him into them, and by now Jake could hear the other passengers actively laughing at what was happening to him.

Snickers from behind and on all sides.
“What the hell is going on up there?”
“Is that weirdo really wearing a stuffed bra?”
“Oh my God they’ve got him in a dress! A FUCKING

DRESS!”

Jake’s heart raced like a panic attack was imminent. He tried to calm himself with deep breaths through the nose and out the mouth, but that became fuddled and futile when Trinity squatted down, a makeup kit clutched in her free hand and a tub of lipstick in the other.

“No,” he said tightly, pursing his lips and shying away from the foundation brush. “No you can’t! Please! STOP THIS!”

Leanne’s huge breasts came to his back as she slithered her limbs about him, trapping his arms with her legs, keep him

pressed to her petite, curvy body. Her sweet breath came to his ear.

“No use fighting it anymore, Jakey Poo,” she whispered. “And wow, with that pale complexion and that rosy lipstick, I think you might need a new name...Jacquie Poole.”

Trinity snorted, greasing Jake’s lips over with a crumbling red lipstick. “Now that’s funny,” she said.

Chapter 3 – At Your Service

1.

The last two items were the most important.

A facemask from Trinity, a wig from Leanne – both of which landed on his person at approximately the same time. Trinity pulled the straps on either side of the mask behind each of his ears and fixed it over his nose. She regretted that his ‘plump red dick suckers’ weren’t going to be visible but was content with the fact that it did bring out the detail on his eye makeup: a loud lime green, highlighted in black, the sort of exotic stare a geisha might give you. Leanne’s wig, one of many that she used frequently in her content shoots, was short and pink like the one Natalie Portman wore in that movie about the cheating couples. It was an insult.

When at last both were situated on him, Jake found a sad silver lining in it all – at least complete transformation was better

than partial, because now not a soul on planet earth would recognize him as Jake Peters.

And once this flight was over, he knew it’d be his mission to never see Trinity or Leanne again for as long as he lived. And so it would be as if none of this had ever happened.

But as of right now, it was happening.

Leanne took a photo of him as he sat there in his new uniform, up on her knees and raising the camera as high overhead as she could to allow for a full view of everything that had taken place. She showed Jake.

“Meet Jacquie Poole,” Leanne said.

It was a radical thing to see with his face added to his consciousness now. The tight fitting, short short short flight attendants dress with a massive, sloppy bust, and the black see through leggings down to the awkward black heels...it was all so much cosplay until Jake got his eyes on the head. His head. The white mask pulled over a pale yet rosy complexion, with exotic

Arabian Nights eyes that glittered and winked somehow seductively. The pink hair fell straight, tickling his chin.

“That’s it then,” Jake sighed, his hot breath breathing back at him under the face mask. “Can the last hour of this flight please pass in peace.”

Trinity furrowed. “The hell? Now why on earth would go through all that trouble just for you to sit here like some stiff?” “What do you mean?” Jake asked. “I thought that was the

deal. You had your fun, and before my wife sees me like this, at least I hope she’s still my wife, I can go change and walk of this plane...and not report you, Trinity, to the airline.”

Trinity’s furrow turned to fury. “Did you just threaten me, white boy?”

“No,” Jake gulped. “I just don’t know what you expect me to do!”

Leanne giggled. Trinity did not relent.

“I expect you to get your pretty lil’ ass up and work,” she said. “I didn’t dress you like no stewardess who don’t do her job. I got plenty of work for your rude ass, baby. And it starts up front.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jake said, a whimper.

“Relax, sugar,” Trinity said. “Serving first class is easy, a whole lot less people to worry about.”

Jake’s exotic green eyes fell on the curtain.

“And besides,” Trinity added, “you don’t get up there and get that drink car right the hell now, I’ll report you for public exposure. What? You think these planes ain’t got cameras, sugar?”

Leanne’s small hands came to his side, shoving Jake up and out of the seat to settle precariously into his new black heels.

2.

Jake came through the curtain. Or was it Jacquie?

He knew where they were, and with eyeshadow heavy on his lids he kept them in his periphery. It was too sudden – he couldn’t look. A part of Jake was wounded from the photo she’d sent, the

one Leanne had instigated out of her though Jake himself had never really done anything wrong. Nothing to deserve infidelity, anyway. And now, as he made his way past them, they were no more than a blob of black and white on his side eye. They weren’t talking, but there was some movement.

Not knowing where he was really going, Jake kept on towards the front of the plane. He passed the other rows, sleeping passengers, wondering when oh when the call over the intercom would come, announcing their initial descent into Jamaica.

In the alcove past the front was the drink cart. Trinity had told him two things before shoving him through the curtain: go to the front and get the drink cart and deliver a note to Veronica and the Rastafarian.

The thought had his gut rolling – how could he face his newlywed wife like this? The answer, the only answer, was obvious: he wouldn’t speak. The two terrors had done their job well enough that being recognized was almost certainly

impossible, the mask and the caked eye makeup all but ensuring it.

But still. Veronica had touched that man. Was she still touching him?

“I’m so sorry, Veronica,” Jake whispered, wheeling the drink cart out into the aisle. “For everything.”

He kept his gaze downward as he wheeled past one row after another, no one with it enough to look up and order a drink. No one to slow him down. And in seconds, he was drawing his eyes up from the floor, to Veronica and Damion nestled cozily in the backmost row of first class.

They were not sleeping.

“Where did you learn that?” Veronica said, her cheek flat to the seat back as she looked at Damion beside her. The arm rest that divided the chairs was up. A comfy brown blanket covered bother their laps. “That’s...incredible...”

Jake stood there in his uniform and stared at Damion’s arm, the one closest to Veronica - like a snake slithering under the

blanket, moving minutely but noticeably at Veronica’s crotch. Anger roiled up inside of him – how could she?

His rapidly rising bust caught Veronica’s eye, and suddenly she was staring at him.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Veronica said, voice hushed with embarrassment. She sat up straighter, and the snaking Rasta arm pulled back to its side of the seat. “Nothing to worry about...”

She didn’t recognize him. That was hope.
Jake bit his tongue, knowing his voice would end the rouse. “Well now where have you been all my flight?” Damion

breathed, looking up at Jake from his seat with a self-satisfied smirk. Veronica laughed at his play on words, which had a certain music to it considering his accent. “Have they hiding you in the cockpit?”

Unsure how to respond, Jake forced the largest smile he could upwards, through the cheeks, and widened his eyes. It must have been enough, even with the mask on, because both Damion and Veronica’s expressions lightened at the sight of it.

Veronica stared him in the eyes, the fringe of recognition hovering.

“I’d like another vodka tonic, if that’s alright,” she said, slurring more than slightly. “I know it’s been a lot but, I think I’m going to need all the courage I can muster for what I’ve got to do when we land.”

Jake blinked. What did she have to do?
“And another rum for me,” Damion sang.
Springing into action, Jake’s hands shook as he assembled

the drinks into their glasses. He could feel their eyes on him, or rather, Damion’s especially. When he glanced, their eyes met, and Jake realized with horror what that look meant...a strange feeling, understanding something he’d only ever been on one side of. Jake Peters knew what it was to look at a woman you wanted to fuck...but never had he known what that felt like from the other side.

Now he did.

Jake gave Veronica her drink first, leaning past Damion slightly, and he felt the man’s breath on his face.

“Are you nervous, woman?” Damion cooed. “You’re shaking like a leaf!”

Jake set the rum down in front of Damion, then remembered the note in his pocket. Overwhelmed, hot in the face, he pulled the paper out and dropped it down into Damion’s lap. Right along the brown blanket. The outline of something vaguely familiar lay there, and Jake was almost certain he could see a circular stain along the fabric.

“What’s this then?” Damion asked.

But already Jake had turned to scurry back up the aisle, taking the drink cart with him.

3.

He watched them in the galley on a monitor imbedded into the wall. The shot was so perfectly framed that Jake wondered if

Trinity had dialed it in from the control panel below and left it there for him as some sick gift.

Jake wondered if this was his fault. Or if he’d been targeted by some assassin of fate. How could she cast him aside so quickly?

A lot of reasons, Jakey Poo, Leanne’s terrible voice said in his mind. But it isn’t all my fault. Maybe if you were doing your duties as a MAN, your wife’s needs would be met...and from the looks of things on screen, Jakey Poo, someone else is taking care of that for you.

Damion had both hands wrapped around Veronica’s melons, kneading them like stubborn dough. Even on the black and white fuzzy monitor he could see their tongues intertwined, and if he wasn’t mistaken, could hear Veronica’s whimpers coming from out in the cabin.

She thinks you cheated on her, Jakey Poo. Can you blame her?

Damion paused in making out with Jake’s wife to look over his shoulder. When he was sure that they were still unbothered,

he resumed, pinching Veronica’s nipples over the shirt, tugging, drawing her body closer to his.

Jake’s knuckles went white as he gripped the drink cart’s handle. Anger, a hot knife, slicing him up inside. The itch of the polyester panties laughed at the vestiges of his masculinity; the bra taught about his upper back held more oxygen than his own malfunctioning brain.

You’re standing there a sissy while your wife puts out for a better man. Isn’t this what all you sissys love, anyway?

“Fuck you,” he whispered to his Leanne conscience. “I don’t want it!”

Damion lifted the blanket as Veronica ducked down, and he pulled it over her head. Jake saw red as Damion leaned back in his chair, reclining comfy with his hands relaxed behind his head. The protrusion in the blanket, Veronica, bobbed about below like a cat trying to get comfortable.

“No,” Jake uttered.
Up and down went the shape, up and down.

“Goddamnit no, Veronica!” Jake whisper screamed. “HOW COULD YOU!”

Damion placed his hands on top of the blanket, outlining Veronica’s head, taking control, thrusting...

Jake felt weak, like he needed to sit down.

Damion’s head, thrust back, mouth open, dreadlocks shaking. Faster and faster, pumping Veronica’s head onto that thing Jake saw on Leanne’s phone. That big black monster that his wife had not only touched but had now tasted.

Jake’s vision blurred. Tears? Rage?

A long loud groan from the cabin, Damion pinning Veronica down, the shape under the blanket thrashing and struggling.

“UUUGGGHHHH!”

Jake punched the monitor, spider webbing the screen. He turned on uncertain heels and marched out of the galley.

4.

Trinity cut Jake off halfway down the aisle.

Over her shoulder, he could see Damion with his eyes closed, and Veronica reemerging from underneath the brown blanket. Her makeup was a mess, her hair worse. But she was smiling.

“Jacquie,” Trinity said. “I need to speak with you in the galley.”

“But...”
“Now!”
Trinity marched him back up to where he’d just come from,

to the galley area behind the cockpit door. Drawing the curtain back, she backed Jake down against the monitor he’d just smashed.

“Did you give em’ the note, sugar?”
“Yes...they didn’t say anything.”
Trinity chuckled. “That’s not what it sounded like.”
Jake scrunched his face, understanding, sort of. “You didn’t

tell them...”
“They could have some ‘quiet time’,” Trinity assured him.

“Among other things...”

“You gave that man a free pass to fuck my wife!” Jake growled. “What the hell is wrong with you!”

Trinity laughed in his face. “Have you seen a mirror lately, sugar? You might wanna ask yourself that!”

Jake fumed. “Get out of my way.”
“Why? What you gonna do?”
He didn’t have an answer for that, and as he tried to push

past her, Jake lost his balance in the heels and hit the ground hard. Trinity stepped aside, laughing hysterically, giving Jake’s raised rump one hard smack.

“Go on then, girl,” she said. “Let’s see what yah got!”

Jake composed himself, made sure his mask was fixed properly, and walked back down the aisle to Veronica and Damion.

Damion was nearly snoring, eyes lidded, like he’d just gotten the best blowjob of his life. Veronica had a small mirror out, touching up her running makeup, her lips glistened. She noticed Jake standing there and smiled.

“Everything alright?” Veronica asked. Her voice caused Damion to wake, and his eyes fell immediately on the busty new flight attendant.

Without warning, Damion reached out his long arm, and grabbed Jake around the ass – squeezing the plump cheek hard and pulling.

“Don’t play hard to get, woman,” Damion said gruffly, pulling Jake close, nearly into his lap. “I read your note. I just dropped my nut off in this one’s mouth but lucky for you I’ve got a large appetite!”

Jake struggled, biting his tongue and trying not to gasp – he couldn’t, absolutely could not risk Veronica finding out. It would demolish any remaining chance of repairing this doomed flight.

Veronica watched Damion manhandle Jake his lap, a sly smirk across her wet mouth as Damion groped one of Jake’s tits.

Damion reached for the mask. “Let’s get a look at your pretty face, girl.”

Jake snapped back, hands coming to Damion’s and keeping it just at bay.

“Shy are we?” The Rasta man said. Then, slowly, he pushed past Jake’s grip and rubbed his thumb along the front of the mask – across Jake’s lips. “No problem. Just need to make a tiny slit. Veronica, do you have anything?”

As drunk as Jake had ever seen her, he watched as she held her hand up and removed the diamond ring Jake had put on her finger only a day before. The diamond was large enough not to be poor, but not so big as to be gaudy. She handed it to Damion.

“Clever girl,” Damion smiled. He turned the ring, bringing the diamond to the front of the mask and punctured it at the mouth. With a tear, Jake’s lush red lips came into view. “There she is,” Damion said slyly, pushing his black finger into Jake’s mouth. “Pretty girl...”

Jake froze up. He tasted the man’s skin, felt the roughness along his tongue and teeth.

“That’s kinky,” Veronica whispered.

“I’ll show you kinky,” Damion said, throwing back the blanket as if he were the captain of the plane. His sweaty black cock lay coiled in on itself, exposed, asleep but waking. “Ever seen your wimp husband go back-to-back, Veronica? Watch what I can do...”

Damion pushed Jake towards it, and Jake fought.
“Enough of dat,” Damion growled. “No more hard to get!” “Don’t worry,” Veronica giggled from above. “It tastes good.” Time slowed down. Jake could almost see himself on the

cracked monitor screen in the galley: his small body wriggling under Damion’s grasp, Veronica’s devilish smile, Trinity laughing from the galley. His mask ruffled, his lips pursed, and there it was – a hefty ebony limb uncoiling, rising to life, and pushing inside.

“Mmmm,” Damion groaned. “She got a nice fat dump truck too.”

Jake whimpered when the man clamped his wide palm down onto his ass cheek, squeezing it for purchase, not letting good as he dug inside the throat.

“My husband would kill me if he knew what we were up to,” Veronica sighed from nearby.

“Your husband is a weakling,” Damion reminded her, flexing inside Jake’s mouth. “This isn’t about first class, second class, no...this is about a different class altogether.”

Jake had shut down, eyes pinched closed, jaw stretching farther and farther as the mass he handled grew larger.

“Here,” Veronica said. “Let me help you.”

The familiar touch of his wife’s hands came to either side of Jake’s head, and she shoved him down.

“I love your hair,” she said. “Is it natural?”

But Jake couldn’t speak. And steadily Damion’s breathing became erratic, and the thing with which Jake was impaled on became more unruly, till it was steadily leaking in his mouth, and he watched that mix of frothy spit and pre run down the long shaft below and collect along the man’s shaggy balls.

“UGH.” – It was a solitary grunt. Enough to announce what was coming. Jake choked, Veronica held fast, and his throat and mouth flooded with the thick sopping seed of a stranger.

Jake did his best.

5.

When he got back to the galley, Trinity was in hysterics.

“In all my years!” She gasped. “In all my damn years I ain’t never seen something like that! Oh hell no! Haha!”

Jake fell against the bucket seat that unfolded from the wall. He tore the remnants of his facemask away and put his head in his hands.

“You’ve ruined my life,” he groaned.

“Oh don’t you go puttin’ that shit on me now, child! You did that yah own damn self! Saw them big old titties on that girl and lost yo’ damn mind is what happened. I think the same thing happened to your wife when she saw D’s honky breaker!”

Jake looked up, astounded at the lack of professionalism from this woman, and how her southern twang took nearly eight hours to break through but here it was. “His what?” Jake said.

“Honkey breaker,” Trinity sighed. “You ain’t the first, sugar. Ain’t gonna be the last either. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”

“What?”

“You heard me! You think Damion didn’t know who was under all that makeup? Yo’ wife might be the gullible type, but D sho’ aint! HA!”

Jake wanted to throttle the woman, but just then, the captain came over the intercom.

“If you could all please take your seats, we are beginning our final descent into Jamaica.”

Somehow, the words he’d longed to hear weren’t sitting right with Jake. The flight from hell was finally coming to an end and yet he found himself wanting to stay in the air forever. Or at least long enough until he could rectify everything that had gone wrong up there.

“I need to change,” Jake said feebly. “She can’t see me like this.”

“Well yo’ clothes is all in the trash bags in the back and I ain’t goin’ through there to get em’ for you,” Trinity said. “But I am gonna need my spare uniform back – you ain’t walkin’ out of here with it, no sir-ey bob hell no!”

Jake stood suddenly in panic, facing Trinity who laughed in his heavily made-up face.

“Well I’m not leaving in undergarments!” Jake seethed. “I need some goddamn clothes!”

“Talk to yo’ side chick then, HA!”

Jake wanted to tear the leggings from his body, shove the wig right down Trinity’s throat, and peel away the makeup from his face like it were a disposable mask. He had to think quickly, he was going to face his wife soon, and there was an entire ocean of apology and forgiveness before them if their marriage was going to be saved.

“Girl you is squirmin’,” Trinity chuckled, watching Jake pace about the small galley. “What’s he gonna do? What in the world is he gonna do! HA!”

His mind raced. Clothing. He needed clothing. His suitcase was underneath the plane in storage, his carry on had nothing. Jake felt trapped in his new identity, wrapping him like a cocoon and touching him everywhere – from the polyester panties sinking their hemmed teeth into his thigh ass flash, to the hot wig on top his head, to the great protruding breasts, to the uncertain heels causing blisters on his feet. He wanted it all gone, but the only alternative was nudity.

“You gonna need to take your seat, child,” Trinity said at last. “We fixin’ to land this damn plane.”

Jake felt his circumstances closing around his neck like a noose. Without a moment to spare, he rushed from the galley. It was only once he was halfway down the aisle that he realized he was no longer wearing a face mask. Up ahead, Damion and Veronica sat comfortably, his wife gazing out the window. Jake

turned his face as he passed them, heart thudding in his chest, praying she didn’t recognize him. He made it through the curtain with only a hard crack on the ass from Damion as he went.

He turned hard and fell into his seat beside Leanne.
“I need help,” Jake plead. “Please. She can’t see me like this!” Leanne was a fit of giggles. “How did it go up there,

Jacquie?”
“Never mind that! I need clothes! I need out of this shit!” “I might have something in my bag...”
“I need regular clothes! Not fucking lingerie!”
Leanne reached under her seat and pulled her carry-on

duffle bag up into her lap. She went sorting through it while Jake’s eyes darted about the plane, and at the curtain, praying that Veronica wouldn’t walk through and see him as he’d become. Because make up or no, it wouldn’t take her long to discern just who the mystery flight attendant was without a face mask on.

“Take these,” Leanne said, placing some denim shorts in his lap. “And these.” Then came what appeared to be a plain white T-shirt. “You and I aren’t so far apart in size. That should work.”

Jake crumpled the clothes to his chest. “It’s going to have to do...I hesitate to thank you.”

“I’ll wait for you to get back,” Leanne giggled.

Jake stood to rush back to the bathroom, hecklers and passengers be damned – but Trinity was there to block his way.

“Seatbelt sign is on, sugar,” she grinned. “You gonna need to sit down.”

“Out of my way,” Jake fumed. “There isn’t time for this!”

“If you want I’ll get that big Jamaican fella from first class to put you in yo’ seat,” Trinity warned. “Is that what you want?”

Jake scowled. “Fine. I’ll change here.”
“Go right ahead.”
The intercom came on overhead. “Flight attendants please

take your seats. It’s going to be bumpy getting into the airport.”

“Toodle loo,” Trinity said, and disappeared behind the curtain once more.

Jake looked at Leanne, who was peering at him like he was a sideshow at the circus, waiting to see what his next trick was.

“Fuck it,” Jake said. He dropped down into the row he shared with the OnlyFans girl and began to strip. The dress was a mess to get off and he lost his wig in the process. When it was finally removed, his great big mess of tits made out of oxygen masks became more unruly, and it was here that he grabbed hold of the cups to finally remove the awful bra. He tugged.

Flight 801 lurched and dropped. Nearly everyone on the plane screamed, the way you do when a flight has been smooth sailing and then it plummets a hundred feet for no reason. Lucky for the passengers of Flight 801, they were all buckled in.

Everyone except Jake Peters.

First, he left the ground entirely and then came smacking into the floor. He was down to stockings, frilly panties, and the giant stuffed bra. As he tried to lift himself back into the seat, he

felt something atop his head – Leanne cramming the pink wig back on. As he reached up to knock it away, another swoop of turbulence rocked the plane.

Jake screamed. He was thrown into the aisle.

Red faced and panicking, he made for his seat, only a foot away and yet it seemed to mock him. It wasn’t until the plane’s nose inclined for the ground, shaking and trembling like a leaf on the sidewalk in October, that Jake realized he wasn’t going to make it.

He rolled ass over elbows, forward, catching the curtain to first class and taking it with him as he flew towards the front of the plane.

6.
First class gasped when the thing draped in black came

tumbling down the aisle.
Jake didn’t know up from down, but he knew the plane

would touch tarmac any second. He flailed and threw his arms

out, trying to get out of the shroud, not entirely sure of where he was. Panic had overtaken him then, and clear thought just wasn’t possible.

“Excuse me! Excuse me!” Trinity exclaimed from somewhere overhead. “You need to take a seat!”

Jake tore the curtain off and tossed it to the floor. The plane had leveled off enough that he could actually stand. He took in his surroundings and realized where he was. Then Trinity was bearing down on him, shoving him backwards...

“Take a seat sir! Take a damn seat!”

Jake was overwhelmed, walking backwards, catching the gasps and snickers of the other passengers as they watched the thing in lingerie and stockings amble and bounce down the aisle.

“The hell are you doin’! Take a damn seat NOW!”

He fell backwards with a final push from Trinity, right in the tits, and landed long ways across a row of seats. His ass lay across someone’s knees, while his upper back lay across someone else’s. Jake opened his eyes wide and looked up.

“Jake?” Veronica said, looking down at him as if they were curled up on the couch at home watching a movie. “Jake...what the fuck?”

“Veronica,” he gasped. “It’s not what it looks like!”
“Oh. My. God.”
The landing gear of Flight 801 slammed down on the runway

and the plane gasped as one. The breakers roared to life, filling Jake’s ears with an earthquake of sound.

Veronica looked at her husband, at all of him, from toe to crown. She covered her mouth – in horror or amusement, Jake didn’t know.

But then the laughter started, and he knew.

The plane idled, the seatbelt sign dinged off, and they pulled up to their gate. As the scramble for overhead bins began, neither Veronica, nor Damion, nor Jake moved a muscle.

“What in God’s name have you been up to the last eight hours,” Veronica managed between gales of laughter. Others were starting to look now, and they two were chuckling.

“This is why the married ones come to Jamaica,” Damion bellowed, slapping Jake so hard on his stockinged thigh the boy yelped. “To explore!”

Jake pleaded, trying to get up and off of them, standing in the aisle and blocking the way, feeling the cold rush of air against his mostly naked skin.

“Veronica please! They made me do it! This isn’t my fault I swear!”

They were laughing too hard to stop themselves. To speak. Jake looked up and down the aisle, praying for some sort of cover up but having absolutely no option as people began to deboard.

“I knew you had a kink,” Veronica managed at last. “But isn’t this going a little too far?”

“There is no kink, V!” Jake cried. “They made me! I don’t want this! I don’t want any of it! I want you!”

Damion stood up, towering over Jake, making him feel smaller than he ever had.

“I guess he can come to my neighborhood as well,” Damion grinned. “My brothers will be happy to have her.”

Veronica snorted.

“What’s he talking about?” Jake asked. “Veronica talk to me! What is he saying!”

And when they emerged from the terminal, they hailed a cab – the three of them. Jake was wedged between them, still in Leanne’s clothes, still an exposed to joke to the rest of the world.

“Make for Kingston, my brother,” Damion told the driver. “I need to get my bitches back to the brothers. Souvenirs from the states!”

Jake turned to Veronica, and she couldn’t make eye contact for fear of laughing.

“What’s going on, Veronica?” He moaned. “Where is he taking us?”

Veronica licked her thumb and fixed a smudge of eyeliner on Jake’s face.

“Damion has lots of friends and family. He wants to introduce us.”

“But what about the hotel?” Jake said. “What about our honeymoon?”

Veronica hushed him with a finger over his lips. “You’re the one who started this, baby. So now, you can finish it.”

Jake Peters was stuck.

TO BE CONTINUED IN...
A DIFFERENT CLASS: The Kingston Sissy!