Fly the friendly sky’s


Introduction:
FLY THE FRIENDLY SKY’S
“Jesus, shit, fuck, blue, christ” I thought, “Could you possibly take longer to put your shit back in your fucking bag” ? I wondered. I had 124 more cattle to load and this flight was bumped ahead of the rest of the fleet to depart.
I work for Airport Authority, and on the weekends it is a major bitch. It had it’s rewards, such as rolling drunk passengers for loose bills or fondling the hot ones that were dumb enough to make it into secondary. Having a passenger go into secondary was easy enough, all the sensors and detectors employed by Airport Authority were user adjustable for sensitivity. When a pigeon approached you “adjusted” the sensitivity to cause a false alarm and bingo, you had a pigeon in custody.
My partner in crime was Sol, fucking eye-talian from “joisey”. Together, we started “doing” passengers out of sheer boredom and found that, until we started, we had been in the minority. Seems most of the jokers here have been doing this, and worse, for quite a while.
It’s simple, spot a cutie traveling alone, departing the international airport (that’s real important) and send her to secondary. We use the sensor adjustment or just “randomly” pick her for additional scrutiny and have her step into secondary. We make her wait, until all the witnesses have boarded and her frustration at missing her flight grows.
Then the fun begins. Behind closed doors she is ours. Most don’t speak english or very poorly, most are pretty docile and accept this treatment. It’s probably not to far from daily life in whatever-shit hole-they’re-coming-from or going to. Usually it’s titty squeezing and ass grabbing with some pussy rubbing thrown in. Once in a while, Sol or I will rub one out while the other is molesting the passenger. The strip search is mandatory of course, got to see the goods. And of course there are the ever-present surveillance cameras, not Airport Authoritie’s, but ours. We have a nice collection of videotaped “interrogations”.
Back to this flight; We receive word that the flight is to be boarded-but-delayed and held at the gate. Perfect timing, we’re near the end of the cattle call. I nod to Sol and he grins, then professionally hides his enthusiasm. Sol walks the line and scopes the remaining passengers for lone, foreign, hotties. First pass, Sol returns and says “muttly in green”. I look casually and see what he’s picked out. Short, fat, sloppy and ugly are not my tastes, but Sol is joking, They’re not his tastes either.
“Check the one in black” he says quietly. I do and I like what I see. She’s pushing 40, pretty, but not made up, not really looking for attention on this flight. Probably a bored professional, we have more trouble with the educated ones, they resist and want to talk to the consulate or their “abogado”. I watch her a little, not quite dismissing her yet. She is pretty, nice body, firm, strong, adequately proportioned with tits and ass, looks clean.
“Lets take her, slowly at first” I warn. Sol goes down the line. When he gets to her he walks past and then returns to her, where he’s not in her line of sight, great for intimidation. I see him mumble something to her, but cant hear what’s said. She looks confused and scared. Sol takes her by the arm and walks her out of line towards the secondary interrogation room. As he approaches to pass, he gives me the slightest eyebrow lift to indicate he likes this one. No one else stays at the screen table to wait for the pigeon. Good, traveling alone.
I close the gate and put the red flag over the door to signal that an interrogation is taking place. Usually green is for shoes and pockets, yellow for unknown hits that tripped the wand, red for lengthy interrogation due to a hit on the “no fly” list, uncooperative, trying to hide something, etc. I place my ballcap over the doorknob. This signals the rest of the guys that we’re playing with one of the pigeons and not to bother us or call the higher-ups because fo the red flag.
As I enter the room, the hottie is sitting down. Sitting in the chair with her hips flexed, you can see that she has a shapely ass and hips. A closer look reveals that she really is pretty, even without make-up. She looks european, olive/tan skin, pretty dark eyes, full lips. She’s wearing flat shoes, no hose, a simple dark skirt and matching vest over a white blouse. her light brown hair is pulled back into a simple pony tail. Very plain, almost like she’s trying not to be noticed. Fucking terrorist.
Sol, is talking to her in his crappy italian, then crappier spanish. Her eyes light up a little with his spanish, but she seems just as lost as before.
“What’s her passport say”? I ask.
“Portugal” Sol says.
“Make sure she doesn’t speak english” I tell Sol.
He looks at her with his serious face and say’s “We’re gonna rape the shit outta you”.
No response. Good she’s either deaf, understands english and has good self control or doesn’t understand english.
“I’ll wand her, you do the book”. I say.
Sol gets the book off the counter and starts talking to her quoting the airport menu of the week and the racing form, and anything else he can think of while pointing out meaningless references to the “vacation and sick day use” manual that was left in the interrogation room. I get the wand and meaninglessly “wand” her making the thing beep like crazy.
I put the wand down and motion for her to stand, she does. I have her turn away from me to face the wall and place her hands in the convenient yellow circles painted there. I make a show of putting on a latex glove in front of her and give her a menacing look. I go over the outside of her clothes, getting a nice layout of her body. I “accidentally” brush her left tit with the back of my hand and feel the resistance of her full, fleshy tit against it.
I kneel down behind her and run my hands up her legs, nice and firm as I squeeze them both from the inside. Pigeon winces and try’s to avoid the groping, but keeps her hands in the circles. I paw her ass and enjoy the cushiony feel of her ample but not flabby butt cheeks. She’s wearing simple cotton panties that I’ll take home as a souvenir.
I interrupt Sol’s rambling bus schedule and book routine by saying “Show her your car keys”.
Sol grins and complies, he likes the “car keys” too.
Meanwhile, this bitch is confused, offended and maybe terrified. If she’s not terrified now, she’ll be later. I check the ever present status board and determine that we have enough time to play before we dump Pigeon back on the plane.
With my hands, I motion for Pigeon to remove her blouse. She looks hesitant, but complies. Crappy, cheap, Kmart cotton bra and panties combo, $ 3.99. Nice tits, full, 34ish. I motion for her to take off her skirt, she does so as if expecting this to happen. I motion for her to turn slowly for inspection. I like her butt. I can see her camel toed pussy lips and where her panties rode up her ass crack on one side. When she steps I can see the fat in her leg, thigh, ass shift and move. Hot.
Sol shows her the car keys again and shakes them with emphasis. Pigeon looks lost as she covers her boobs and pussy with her hands. With my gloved hand I hold her by the hair and pull her head back to open her mouth. With my free hand I take my baton and show her the business end, then carefully, I touch her teeth with the blunt end of the baton. She understands now, no biting.
I feel around inside her pretty mouth with my fingers, under and the sides of her tongue, slick with spit. I make her gag with my fingers and do it a little longer than necessary, enjoying it. I pick up the baton again and insert it. I tilt her head up to allow the baton to enter the very back of her throat and jack the baton off in her mouth. I can see it interferes with her breathing when it’s too deep. Pigeon is crying now as I withdraw the spit-slickened baton. I let her sit.
I motion for her to remove her bra and, scared now, she does so without any reservation. I motion for her to stand and remove her panties, she hesitates, then, staring at me, drops her simple cotton panties on the floor, never looking away from me.
“Jeezus…” Sol says. I see what he means. Hairy pussy, not trimmed except away from her bikini line and off her legs, otherwise, no trimming at all. Didn’t see THAT under those panties. Most women, even skanks, oldsters, fatties, preggos, mormons, whatever, will shave the bush. Usually only european babes will sport the 70’s porno bush like this.
I turn her around, and before she knows what happened, cuff her hands behind her back. This brings a wild look from her, fear of what’s next. What ever it is, she’s helpless to do anything about it. I position her against a metal table while Sol uses a manacle on her ankles, she’s now tied to the table by her feet. I reach up and grab the rope Sol tied to a ring in the ceiling. I loop the rope around the cuffs and pull it tight. This brings Pigeon up with her arms behind her, bending her forward over the table, but she can’t rest her head on it because the rope isn’t long enough. She can’t lift her legs to allow her head to reach the table because of the manacles. Not only is she helpless, she’s uncomfortable as hell, completely immobilized and scared.
I get down on my knees behind her at ass level and part her nice fleshy ass cheeks to see her butthole. Nice. Not hairy like her pussy. I play with her pliant cheeks and bounce them a little. I stick my face into her ass and lick her pussy hole. Clean, almost like soap, “no gravy on the fry’s”. Must have showered just before the flight.
I lick her asshole as I pry her cheeks apart hard, she winces at this and resists, too late now, Pigeon. I tongue fuck her and slobber into her ass crack, licking the whole crack from the small of her back to her pussy in long full strokes. I run my hand up her leg with my thumb extended. As I near her cunt, I insert my thumb into it and start thumb fucking her hard as I continue to eat her ass and pussy from behind.
This goes on for a few minutes and my tongue gets tired. I switch to three fingers and jam them into her cunt. Pigeon grunts the first few times and mumbles something plaintive. I’m working these fingers hard, pigeon is lubed pretty good and I notice I’m hitting bottom. I stick four fingers together and resume work, she’s grunting every time now and is in danger of giving us away.
“Shut her up”, I tell Sol.
“M’Kay” he replies.
Sol takes her sock, balls it up and jams it into her mouth as a gag. No more grunting of moaning now, she’s concentrating on breathing too much.
I pick up the pace, by using my whole hand in her pussy. She’s not really ready for it, but I’m getting bored. I wedge my 5 fingers into her pussy and really have to work it into her. She’s really fighting it now, but can’t do anything about except breathe. There’s a lot of resistance from her snug pussy walls. It’s possible she’s never hand a kid and this would explain it. Most moms are capable of taking a fist pretty easy once they work up to it or it’s forced into them. Pigeon here is red in the face, sweating and breathing hard.
After a minute I’ve forced the pussy to open up and my hand reflexively curls in to a fist making a shorter, blunter tool. Pigeons head dangles as if she’s lost consciousness. I pause from my pussy reaming efforts and she pulls her head up to see if it’s over. She’s still awake. In the home stretch now (no pun intended) I force my fist up hard and deep into her pussy trying to punch her cervix. I pick her feet up off the floor each time and her ankles pull against the manacles. My arm is tired. I drop my hand out of her pussy and take a break, letting my tired arm recover. Pigeon hangs there by her cuffed hands and breathes between sobs. Through her bush pussy is a mass of red inflamed pussy lip, swollen from the fisting and abuse. Pussy secretions and sweat are running down her leg.
“Find anything”? Sol asks.
“Nothing yet”, I say with a smile.
Sol holds the keys up to her face and shakes them again. Pigeon looks on in confusion and pain.
“Alright, my turn” Sol says. And with that, he puts on an elbow length rubber glove. Sol moves into Pigeon’s field of view and snaps the thick rubber exam glove onto his hands. Sol moves behind the girl and kneels down to address the situation. He extends his index finger and jams it straight into her anus. Pigeon comes alive and starts to struggle and free herself shaking her cuffs and manacles uselessly.
“Looks like she figured out what’s next”, Sol laughed. Sol reamed her anus out with his finger for a minute.
“Nothing yet, need lube though”. Sol remarked. Not so much for any ones comfort but a dry fisting was difficult work and led to tell tale evidence, like blood trails.
Sol went to the cabinet on the wall and drew “Exam Lubricant” from the stores. In truth, I had brought a jar of vaseline from home. Sol opened the jar and started to coat his gloved hand with the vaseline. The smell alereted Pigeon to what was going on and she arched herself over to see what was happening. Once she caught sight of Sol greasing up his hand and arm, she started writhing and trying to break free again.
“Enough !” Sol said. and plopped himself down behind her.
Sol positioned 4 fingers at her anal entrance and applied pressure into her butt. Pigeon groaned through her nose and resisted as much as she could. Sol just kept his 4 finger assault in place and applied steady pressure.
“You gonna need a hand ?” I asked.
“If you don’t mind” Sol replied.
I stood next to her facing Sol reached over her with one arm to steady her and grabbing both of her ass cheeks with my hands, pried them open. This allowed better access for Sol and a better view for us both. I enjoyed the feeling of manhandling her ass. Firm but soft. I massaged her butt for my pleasure. I could see Sol’s fingers about halfway into her butt and working his way deeper as the lube worked itself into a lather and coated her well. Sol’s approach was straight forward, he had his thumb tucked in and as he would go deeper, all of his fingers and eventually his whole hand would be inside Pigeon’s ass.
Sol continued his work and after a few minutes of concentrated effort and sweat on his part he had most of his hand in her ass. Just as he was at the threshold, Pigeon started resisting again and fighting my grip on her and the assault on her rectum.
“Take a look”. I told Sol, and with that he withdrew his tired arm from her butt. What we saw was a nicely gaped asshole worthy of any good porno flick. Several small tears were surrounding her opening and minute amounts of blood had collected at them. This is common with internal exams of this type, couldn’t be helped.
“Try more lube” I suggested. And Sol was stabbing his hand into the jar of vaseline again. Back to work. Sol balled his fist up and placed it against Pigeon’s anus. Sol started twisting and screwing his hand in place and applying pressure into her rectum. No more subtle tactics. Sol wasn’t going to start a finger at a time, he was going to drive his fist right into her ass.
Pigeon resisted again as she felt the knuckles from Sol’s big fist start to rub her already sore anus. Sol applied pressure from his arm and shoulder and popped his fist just into her rectum. Pigeon went bat-shit-crazy and danced around manacled and cuffed as she was. She snorted in pain and disgust in between breathing.
“Whew”, Sol exclaimed, “This is like hard work”.
With that I continued to massage and squeeze her butt cheeks and Sol drove his fist into Pigeon’s ass incrementally. Deeper was the goal, until he hit bottom. As the lube from his gloved hand made its way deeper up into Pigeons rectum and colon and as the muscles relaxed with the forceful assault, Sol’s hand, then arm disappeared deeper in to her ass.
Pigeon’s head was hanging limp as her sweat matted hair covered her face and head. She had given up and submitted to the pain of her rectum stretched to the limit with a balled up fist forced up into it.
“I’m there” Sol said. Meaning he had hit bottom, where her rectum points left and turns into the colon.
“Ready” I replied, and with that landed a haymaker into Pigeon’s gut.
“Whoa, Felt It ! Sol said. With that Pigeon was aware and fighting again, this time just to catch her breath. I dropped the key I had palmed onto the steel table in front of her. She starred incredously at the key beleiving it had come from deep within her bowels.
Sol pulled his arm out of her rectum and inserted a few cotton balls to stop her up temporarily. Her asshole was ragged and almost prolapsed. It stood out like a set of anal pussy lips would. We stood up and let her arm restraint loose and turned her to face us. She was crying and beet-red in the face. We gave her the “your guilty” stare and she wouldn’t meet our eyes. Just then the over head speaker broke news about Pigeon’s plane being next to complete boarding and taxi. We had to finish and boot her quickly.
I held the key up to her face and yelled “where did you get this” ? on and on, nothing made sense, but it didn’t matter, she couldn’t understand a damn thing we were doing anyway. The best part was, she thought she had done some terrible crime of terror by carrying the key. She’d never complain about this once she was let go.
We wiped her down with wet soapy cloths, made her get dressed (except for her panties) and issued a stern warning. Sol gestured a “Shhh” with his finger to his lips. We then showed her the exit door the would lead her to the boarding ramp and escorted her to it. She left, trying to compose herself and walked down the ramp to board.
Walking back, one of our compatriots met us and asked if we had fun with the nun.
“What ?” I asked.
“Yeah, you guys cornered and interrogated a nun from Portugal”. He said.

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4 comments

anonymous readerReport

2013-10-23 13:07:25
Thanks for this post, Karen. It really hit home with me. 5 years ago after being a buiessns owner for 5 years, I went back in house. It wasn’t planned. I took a contract position, then was offered a full time, permanent position. I was comfortable in the environment and excited about the work, so I accepted. Also, the economy had slowed down significantly which caused a lull in buiessns. As a relatively new buiessns owner, I wasn’t used to the up and down cycle and panicked and retreated back to the comfort zone. The whole time, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had sold myself and my buiessns short by not sticking with it through the downturn. I felt like I’d given up on myself and my dreams. I also didn’t think I was making the kind of impact I could make.Since I was going back to a familiar environment, I underestimated how workplace dynamics would impact my job satisfaction. It was the most challenging career and life situation I’ve ever had to deal with (endure). I was miserable ev

Anonymous readerReport

2010-05-11 16:02:48
LOL i like that you made her a nun!

anonymouslyReport

2009-10-05 14:37:49
It’s “Skies” not “Sky’s”

Anonymous readerReport

2009-08-06 19:33:08
I’m not a Christian,but for Heaven’s sake – spare the nuns atleast …

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