At The Airport

by Minty Fresh

 

I strode through the terminal in sheer terror. My wife, Amanda, holds me firmly by the hand as she guides me through the crowds of holiday makers to the check-in desk. Despite the long and careful preparations we had made, I could not shake the nagging doubt nay, the certainty that people would see through my disguise; notice that I was a man in women's clothing. I had been cross-dressing at home for some time now and Amanda, always the dominant party in our relationship, had eased me smoothly into the role of full time housewife. After all, when one's partner earns so much more than you; they'll always end up owning you in some way, won't they? Today is the beginning of our first holiday, my first holiday en femme. Given the choice, I would have chosen a less conspicuous outfit but Amanda, with her flair for particulars, had bought it especially and would not hear of me wearing anything else. A pink pencil skirt, to the knee, a short pink jacket, stopping exactly at my waist, with a white peter-pan collar and a long, blonde wig. It makes for a modest but eye-catching display of femininity and it now feels as if everyone in the building is looking at me. Sensing my distress, Amanda turns and says to me, for the umpteenth time:

"For God's sake Billy, stop fidgeting. No-one is paying you a blind bit of notice."

"Sorry" I say, wanting to believe her. Then, with a total disregard for my feelings, she contradicts herself:

"And try not to drag your feet. No-one will believe you're a woman if you keep walking like that."

I hold my peace and concentrate on my gait, carefully putting one heeled shoe in front of the next. Padding has given my hips a realistically female behind, which now swings seductively back and forth as I walk, and I feel the world's attention anew, with mounting discomfort.

Thankfully, Amanda handled everything at the check-in herself. I was so nervous I could not have trusted myself to speak. I now arrive in the departure lounge with great relief. I'm not accustomed to walking such distances in high heels and my feet ache terribly. I know better than to complain and simply look forward to sitting down. Amanda spots her friend Lauren and calls out to her. We are travelling with her to Cancun, Mexico. Much to my chagrin, she is standing in a discreet corner of the lounge away from all the seats. To my surprise, she has two other women with her. One is similar in age and sober, suited appearance, the other is much younger and dressed in a revealing floral print vest and a short pleated skirt, supported by a layer of petticoats. Her hair is tied into two pony tails with red ribbon and she smiles vacantly at me as we approach.

"Amanda" says Lauren, "I thought you'd never make it. This is Claire." She gestures to the stranger who offers Amanda her handshake.

"We spoke on the phone. It's good to finally meet you." Then, turning to me, Claire says "And you must be Billy." I blush, realising she knows all about me.

"Hello. It's nice to meet you."

"Billy" she says, introducing me to my fourth companion, this girliest of girls. "I want you to meet my husband, Mikey."

With the same vacant smile fixed on its face, the feminine creature steps forward and kisses me on the cheek. "Hello Billy" it says, with a strange little giggle.

I'm so shocked I can only blurt out a bewildered question. "Husband?"

"Yes Billy" says Claire. "Mikey's a little sissy, just like you."

Suddenly, all of the women are looking very hard at me. Amanda, who has been holding my hand the whole time, tightens her grip. I look over at her and see her watching me with eyes intent on intimidation. I gulp down and turn back to Mikey. "Pleased to meet you Mikey."

"Likewise" he says, in his quiet, squeaky little voice, and giggles again. I can't believe this thing in front of me is a man. The face is round, with soft set features. His figure is waif-like and impossibly thin at the waist. And then there are the firm C-cup breasts, left exposed by his clothing. I stand and gawp.

"I say" pipes up Lauren, "I think we should be setting off."

"Of course" says Amanda, who leads me by the hand toward the gate. Being so flustered by my company, I don't notice at first that the gate is unmanned, and we make our way to our little buggy unmolested. It's Lauren herself who drives us to the plane. Amanda and I sit facing Claire and Mikey. The women begin talking in polite tones, ignoring Mikey and me entirely. I'm left sitting opposite this creature, who just sits and stares impassively at me, the same smile painted onto his features. To avoid him, I butt into the women's conversation.

"Where are all the staff?"

Amanda stares at me severely and says "It's a private flight, Billy. Now shush."

Mikey leans forward and says to me "Mistress Lauren owns her own plane."

"Mikey" says Claire with surprise, "don't interrupt!"

Suddenly, Mikey jumps to his feet with a yelp, his face showing a mixture of pain and pleasure. He recovers his composure and sits down, smoothing his skirt as he does so, and looks at the floor. "Sorry Ma'am," he says, quietly.

Amanda and Claire then continue talking, as if nothing had happened. Despite some apprehension, I have to ask: "What was that?"

The two women look at me with displeasure. Relenting, Claire leans over and puts her hand on my thigh. "You see Billy, sissies like Mikey have a special little device inserted up their bottoms. If they're naughty they get a little buzz to make them behave. From here." She lifts her jacket slightly to reveal a small plastic box with a button on it.

Astonished, I turn to Mikey who indicates with a small nod of the head that it's true. Creepily, he lets out another little giggle.

The buggy stops by the plane. As Claire and Mikey get out, I turn panic-stricken to Amanda: "I don't want to go."

"For God's sake, Billy. We've been looking forward to this for months."

"But..." I lower my voice to a whisper. "But I don't want one of those things stuck up my bottom!"

"Oh I don't know" says Lauren, appearing on my other side, "Amanda tells me she sticks things up your bottom all the time."

I recoil from her in shock. Realising that Lauren knows all about my sex life leaves me absolutely dumbstruck. Having seized the initiative, the two women take one arm each and march me up the stairs to the plane, talking all the while:

"He likes being told, doesn't he?"

"Yes" says Amanda, "he'll put on a little nightie and let me order him around."

"What was the other one, with the bride?"

"Yeah, he'll put on a veil and pretend that I'm taking his virginity with my dildo."

"That's a hoot!"

By the time we get onboard, I'm putty in their hands. They sit me down next to Mikey, my face still scarlet with embarrassment. With sympathy in his voice, Mikey puts his hand on mine and says "I'm so glad you're coming to live with us."

"No" I say, "not to live. It's just a holiday."

Mikey giggles his disconcerting little giggle. "You're going to live there" he says. "Mistress says so."

"But…" I stop and think. Of course I'm not coming back. Amanda wants to make me just like Mikey here. Without a second thought, I get up and run to the end of the plane. The door's locked! With increasing frustration and despair, I pump the handle frantically and hit the door with my fists. Turning, I see Claire and Amanda angrily rushing toward me. They arrive and grab my arms roughly, holding me until I stop struggling. Then, calmly and sternly, Amanda tells me off.

"I'm very disappointed in you Billy" she says, "if I can't even trust you to sit still…"

She leaves the sentence unfinished as a length of rope is produced and they tie my hands behind my back. For good measure, they get another length and tie it round my arms, so that I cannot move them at all. Without a word, they march me back to my seat. Unable to stop myself, I break down and start sobbing. Amanda stops to talk to me, saying tenderly: "It's alright Billy, don't be afraid to cry. That's very sissy. Very sissy indeed."

Her words are wounding and make me cry even more. "Don't worry dear" she continues, "you'll like your new home. It's completely secluded. You'll have lots of new sissy friends to play with and no-one to disturb you. You must have got pretty sick of all the neighbours talking about you behind your back"

"They talked about me?"

"All the time, dear. You were a laughing stock. But not anymore, I promise." Amanda kisses me and walks away, to the cockpit, leaving me again with Mikey who watches me, whispering perverse little giggles to himself. I glare at him viciously and tell him to shut up, before looking out the window to wonder if I'll ever see my home again. I spy a couple of figures, in high visibility jackets, walking past the plane. I've got to get their attention! I can't bang on the window; the women will hear me before they do. I see my handbag left open on the seat next to me and suddenly I have an idea. Standing up, I turn and squat down, trying to reach inside with my bound hands. Finally, I get hold of the item I want: My lipstick. I manage to push the lid off and twist it open. I put my knees on the seat and kneeling, bending over, I try to write on the window from behind my back. Slowly and crudely, I draw out the shapes on the window pane: S… O… S…

"Oh dear" says Mikey, "You're being naughty."

"Mikey" I say, breathlessly "I've got to get out of here. Please be quiet."

"I don't know" he replies with malice, "You weren't very nice to me before."

"I know that and I'm sorry. But you see; I can't go along with this. I don't want it."

Mikey just giggles to himself again, and then looks up to meet my eyes. "I think I should tell" he says with relish. "I'm going to tell."

"Mikey please…" I plead, but he just ignores me and begins to skip down the aisle, singing: "Billy's in trouble… Billy's in trouble!"

Panicky and very much afraid, I turn to look out the window. They've seen me! They're heading this way! I pray that they will hurry up, for Mikey has reached the cockpit. The engines begin to fire and his tiny voice is drowned out by them, but I can hear what Amanda and the others are saying:

"He's doing what?"

"Oh my!"

"You're right, that's very naughty."

"He does need to be punished, yes."

"Of course not, you're a good little sissy."

"Of course you can. But you must do exactly as I say."

"Good girl, now go and fetch my toolbox…"

 

  

  

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