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The fantasy has no end...I just run and run and run, to the sound of her laughter and the sting of her crop.
Despite the drug and my deprived senses, I can feel motion. The container, or whatever holds me, is being moved. Then there are vibrations and an occasional jarring. As the static noise endlessly fills my ears and the dream fades I know to put aside all curiosity concerning my situation. It is not within my purview to ask questions. So I let my mind wander and thoughts of our initial meeting come to mind.
Mrs. Dalton was on long flight to Los Angeles. I was the flight attendant serving her in first class. As usual, our scheduled time of departure, some 20 minutes after that of a competing airline, left the cabin less than half full. She sat in the rear of first class. An elderly woman, almost totally deaf, sat in the first row. There were no others to serve.
She kept sending me into the galley for things. In a very subtle way she was divinely domineering. And there was something about the way she sat…as if on a throne.
We talked. The flight was long. She asked for bottled water and insisted that I join her in imbibing. I did, finding that I could not help obeying even the simplest of requests.
She just sipped strongly suggesting that I drink. It was only water and I wanted to please.
“You’ll ask before using the facilities, Ted? Like a good boy.”
She set a trap into which I suppose I eagerly stepped. Her command was so subtle, so placidly enunciated yet so firmly conveyed.
“Yes, Miss Dalton,” I recall replying so humbly.
Yes, my wife’s maiden name is Dalton. In the marriage ceremony I took her surname. She insisted on becoming Mrs. Dalton and having my name changed to Ted Dalton.
Well with all the water I had to go. I asked and found it curious that she immediately agreed. I misunderstood her little game. But then as I pulled at the lavatory door her large hand reached over my shoulder to hold it open. I turned my head to look over my shoulder. I had to raise my chin. She was so tall...so physically domineering. And her eyes were so soothing yet forceful.
Gratefully the elderly deaf woman was asleep for I was not sure where I was being taken...mentally. Miss Dalton was in control.
“No need for shyness, Ted,” she announced in her firm tone.
I remember looking at her with a beseeching look...thinking that her little game would soon end and she’d shut the door...she didn’t.
“Well?” she inquired with such expectancy. “We’re not both going to fit in there...and I like to examine before I buy.”
I just hoped the pilots didn’t leave the flight deck. They use the first class facilities. Miss Dalton anticipated my concern.
“I’ll close it if any one approaches, Ted.”
Guess I ran out of excuses. I unzipped. She objected.
“Not much to see. Unbuckle and drop those trousers and undershorts...yes that’s a good boy.”
Well she had her inspection and I suppose liked what she saw. I was embarrassed...a level of humiliation beyond anything I had ever experienced...but I found there was also a twinge of enjoyment. I think she recognized it before I did.
I began my business. She reached down and kneaded and caressed my buttocks...her fingers inspected as if purchasing a melon or other fruits and vegetables. It was difficult to concentrate and I surprised myself that I was able to perform...until she bent a little at the waist and reached between and under my cheeks. A finger pushed against my perineum apparently pressuring my urethra. The flow was cut off. For some reason I did not protest. It was as if I was powerless to resist. I just looked up into her placid but unyielding face and remained standing over the john. I remember thinking how physically imposing she was...the looks of a fashion model on the body of an Olympic athlete. My bladder ached. I needed to urinate.
“Some men like to be controlled, Ted...by a woman. Ever give that a thought? You seem to enjoy serving. You’ve made a career out of it.”
She smiled with her observation and released her finger. I finished.
“You’re uncircumcised. Nice meaty foreskin. Ever think about changing that?”
I just shook my head and blushed.
“Skin it back for me please.”
Again spoken as more of a command than a request. My fingers worked to pull back and uncover the moist and hidden penis tip. She smiled at the sight of what most women find hideous.
“I’ll bet you give that a good work out, hmm? Perhaps on Friday nights...thinking about all the good looking girls you’ve served in first class.”
I strangely found myself nodding in agreement. Miss Dalton’s presence was overpowering and she was quick to establish a psychological Dominance that I had not encountered before in a female.
Then she just stepped away, returning to her seat where she read legal papers for most of the remaining flight.
