Blackmail Tarts: Airline Debauchery

Summary: Two female teachers are turned into subs by nerd ex-student.

Note 1: this is a fantasy requested by the real Natalie… who has many very dirty fantasies.

Note 2: This is a multi-part story that will have a chapter released every couple of months until the wild weekend of a hen gone astray is over. A HEN is a British term for a bachelorette party… in case you are curious.

Note 3: Thanks to Tex Beethoven, Robert, and David for editing.

Blackmail Sluts: Airline Debauchery

When Laura said she was planning my hen, a shiver went up my spine, since the last one she’d planned for one of our friends was pretty wild… I’d stroked a stripper’s cock and almost sucked him off in front of my friends… I likely would have finished the job if there’d been a few more people there that I didn’t know very well… gin always dissolves my inhibitions, and once I get in the mood, hearing strangers saying, “I can’t believe she’d do that!” always turns me on big time. Especially if they’re touching themselves while they’re saying that!

Of course, it made sense that Laura would be planning my hen since she was my maid of honour and all… if I’d wanted a safe hen, I would have picked a different set of bridesmaids. All four of my best friends, who also happen to be my teaching colleagues in our secondary school’s physical education programme, can be quite wild when they get the opportunity.

Laura got married at a young age to her childhood sweetheart. She is the most innocent looking of us, with brown eyes, pixie-short hair and the body of an athletic girl next door. Except that her tits are fucking massive 36DD’s that our male students drool over all day, especially when she’s leading calisthenics. That said, she is the one usually in charge of our group. Although no one would believe it to look at her, she is the kinky one who had a couple of lesbian adventures in her younger days, and loves anal sex. She also sells lingerie as a side business and invariably wears thigh high stockings whenever she is out and about.

In the right company, Laura is also incredibly open about her sex life, including the fact that her favourite position is riding her husband’s seven inch dick, because she likes to be in control. She also feels that oral sex is great and goes down on him almost every day. She jokes, “A blow job a day keeps the hubby at bay.”

Lastly, she has a wide selection of toys including vibes, dildos, anal beads, and even handcuffs. She tried convincing me to get a pair, but I pointed out that my fiancé George is a bobby, so we always have a pair handy, even if they aren’t lined with fur.

She suggested I use them on him, but truthfully I’d rather have him use them on me. On a few occasions so far he’s really put me through my paces and I loved it, although I’ve never mentioned that to Laura. Yet.

If I’d wanted a tamer hen, I guess I could have chosen Hayley, as she is the most conservative woman in our group. She comes from money and although she is very outgoing socially, she is also the most prim and proper when it comes to even talking about sex. She has brown eyes and blonde hair and looks a lot like Holly Willoughby. She has only been with one guy ever, and she married him right after college, so compared to the rest of us she is a lot more reserved sexually… likely because she comes from a rather old-fashioned family. She is almost always the first one to go home when we have a girls’ night out.

Sarah is the enigma of the group. She has a little boy, acts like a mother 98 percent of the time, but when we go out and she has a few drinks she turns into a different woman. She flirts. She playfully grabs my ass but leaves her hand there a bit too long for it to be just for giggles. She has kissed a few girls… although oddly, not me. She is petite, with tiny tits (she complains they didn’t even get big when she was pregnant). It’s hard to believe, but she cheated on her fiancé with another guy, then ended up marrying the new guy. I imagine she would be submissive in the bedroom, as she is pretty submissive as a friend… always doing what Laura tells her and always trying to please everyone.

Then there’s Vickie. We went to university together and shared the same dorm room. She’s the blonde bombshell of the group, and the last remaining single. She has blue eyes, small perky tits, and is the most ambitious of us… she’ll likely become a school principal in the near future.

In college Vickie was a major cock tease, but on the rare occasions when she actually let someone into our room she turned from reserved and well-spoken to a foul-mouthed slut. Her language and screams were usually heard throughout the entire floor.

The last of our famous five is me.

I’m right in the middle between the wildest and the most reserved. I work my ass off to stay in shape… CrossFit being part of my DNA. I have green eyes, 34D tits, brown-blonde hair, long toned legs, and a great arse… although I wish I had a bit more of it. I also have a wicked sense of humour, and Sarcasm is my best friend.

Anyway, Laura was being very close-mouthed about the hen on Thursday afternoon when she picked me up from work at our school in the Earl’s Court district of London… although we work in the same department, she only works mornings. I asked, “So what are you planning for my hen?”

“Something life changing,” she smiled as she pulled away from the curb.

“That’s both exciting and ominous,” I pointed out. “But it doesn’t actually tell me anything.”

“You’ll be a changed woman once the weekend is through,” she added, parsing out a single titbit of information as she entered the A4.

“Did you say weekend?” I asked; the hen was usually just one night.

“Actually it’s an extended weekend,” she corrected.

“George won’t like that,” I countered, knowing he was nervous about how wild we get when all five of us go out together.

“George approved the entire trip,” she said, still giving me more questions than answers.

“Trip?” I asked.

“You’re the last single girl, so we need to make this epic,” she explained.

“Uh, Vickie is still single,” I pointed out.

“She’s already married,” Laura replied, which was nonsensical until she added, “to her job.”

I roared, “I guess that’s true.” Laura taught for fun… she didn’t need the money and was quite happy working half time and spending the rest doing things at home.

Vickie, on the other hand, shouldn’t have to pay rent for her flat since she seemed to live at school… even more so lately, as she was working on her masters and preparing for an interview for a job as principal of another nearby secondary school in a couple of weeks.

As we drove past the turn for my house, or also for the pub we usually went to, I asked, “Where are we going?”

“The hen starts right now,” she declared, handing me a flask.

“We have work tomorrow,” I pointed out.

“No, we don’t,” she corrected. “I’ve already booked the day off for both of us. We’re not even going to be in the country.”

“I don’t have any sub plans made,” I pointed out.

“Done.”

“I haven’t packed,” I continued, shocked by the advanced stage of her plan.

“Done.”

“I need to tell George.”

“Done.”

“I need my passport.”

“Done.”

“Where are we going?”

“Yep.”

“What?”

“Sure,” she answered unhelpfully.

Finally catching on, I deduced, “You have no intention of telling me anything, do you!”

“Great deduction, Watson,” she smiled, as she took the roundabout exit onto the M4 towards Heathrow Airport.

“France?” I asked, desperate to know the plan.

“…is a country,” she answered.

“I hate you,” I sighed, knowing that no way was Laura going to give in… that being just one more thing about her… she could be incredibly charming, aggressively impressive or outright annoying… at the moment it was the latter… although the idea of a long international weekend with the girls was actually a pretty intriguing idea.

“And I despise you,” she countered unconvincingly, reaching out with her left hand and giving my leg a friendly pat.

“You’re lucky your hen has already happened,” I responded.

“Oh, you’ll be thanking me and screaming my name in euphoria before this hen is done,” she promised, the sexual innuendo not even remotely vague.

I moaned sarcastically, quite able to play sexual games, “Oh yes, Laura, mmmmmmm, eat me.”

She looked at me hungrily and said, “Now that is what we call foreshadowing.”

Just then her phone rang and she used Bluetooth to answer it with her car’s dash. It was her husband. As they chatted, I recalled Laura’s hen party when we drove to Edinburgh and we got her a male stripper. The stripper came to our room and we all enjoyed watching him strip off, but after he left I was horny as fuck and my knickers were wet from watching. Everybody got ready to go to bed and when I thought all the others were asleep I slowly started to rub my clit. Turns out I wasn’t the only one because as my breathing grew deeper, I could hear squelching sounds coming from both Laura and Sarah. I ended up finger fucking myself to such a deep silent orgasm, knowing they were getting off while I was, but we’ve never mentioned it. That’s the closest I’ve ever come to going with a girl other than a few drunken snogs to get free drinks while at the U. But, I’d be lying if the idea of a lesbian romp with any of the girls… especially Laura who would definitely be dominant… didn’t turn me on. On occasion I fantasized about doing whatever Laura said when I was reading lesbian erotica or porn. And my go to stories or porn videos were always where one girl/woman dominated/seduced another. Laura hadn’t always starred in my fantasies, for years she hadn’t crossed my mind at all in that way. But recently I thought of her or sometimes other girls I knew while I jilled off. As if my body was questioning my decision to settle down, get married, have kids and all that jazz.

Since I’m not a lesbian, I would never mention my lesbian fantasies to any of my friends, but if one of the girls, or even one of my senior students, decided to make me her slut, I’m fairly certain I would be helpless to resist… and I have lots of recurring fantasies as evidence of that personal weakness.

I mean I love George… and he understands my domination fantasies and has helped me fulfil some of them… but he doesn’t have the right anatomy for the one fantasy I have deep inside. A fantasy I’ve never told anyone.

Now my only fantasy isn’t a lesbian submissive romp. Before I met George I was researching the idea of sex parties and sex dungeons where a group of men would dominate me for a night… using me as their three hole fuck slut. This was a fantasy that at least once a week I became totally lost in. Have you ever had an out-of-body orgasm where you were completely transported into your fantasy and had no idea where you actually were? That was the power of my gang-bang fantasies. But every time I came, afterwards I cursed myself for having such a twisted fantasy… I was a teacher, not a cheap bimbo fuck slut… yet, every once in a while that desire to be used and dominated by a group of men (or a football team… that means a soccer team for you Yanks) takes me over and I wake up having had the most intense orgasms.

George has done what he can with the information I’ve given him (of course I haven’t let him know of my lesbian fantasies or my gangbang slut fantasies… I mean how would he react?), but I did share with him my desire to be dominated, or blindfolded or handcuffed.

…..

On my birthday a couple months ago, George did all three. He ordered me to dress in my sluttiest lingerie and to be on my knees on the floor in ten minutes.

 

My kitty leaked just because of the firm order as he kissed me hard and walked out of the bedroom.

 

I got into my lace red teddy, matching red knickers and the mocha thigh highs I’d just bought and got into position, my kitty already leaking with anticipation.

 

He walked in ten minutes later, a good five minutes later than he’d ordered me (which was an obedience test as I was normally very adamant about punctuality). He walked in naked, already fully hard, and immediately slid his cock in my mouth without a word.

 

And then he grabbed my face and roughly face fucked me… something he’d never done before.

 

It was exhilarating, just being used.

 

It was incredible, feeling his cock slamming into my mouth, feeling his balls bouncing off my chin.

 

It was humiliating, being treated like a whore, which, of course, only enhanced my adrenaline rush and induced further gushes down below.

 

“Tonight you’re my whore, understood?” he asked as he pulled his cock out of my mouth, which was dripping with so much of my saliva that a string draped from the end of his mushroom top to my lips.

 

I responded quickly, immersed in the role play, “Yes, sir, use me as you wish.”

 

He slammed his cock back into my mouth and resumed face fucking me roughly. I focused on not gagging and just being a slut for his pleasure.

 

I imagine it was only a couple of minutes before he grunted and spewed his load into my mouth, spraying his nut juice against my tonsils before sliding down my throat.

 

When he pulled out, his complete load now sitting warmly in my belly, he ordered, “Get on the bed, slut.”

 

“Yes, sir,” I obeyed, quickly climbing onto the bed and onto all fours because it was his favourite position and it seemed to me to be the most submissive position.

 

He walked over to his nightstand and pulled out a blindfold and handcuffs.

 

I wanted to say something playful, but in full submissive mode I just remained on all fours waiting to see what would happen to me as he moved to the bed and placed the blindfold snugly over my eyes.

 

He then moved behind me and sighed. I wondered what had annoyed him until he asked, “Do dirty fuck whores wear knickers?”

 

I apologized, “Sorry, sir, I thought they were sexy and they matched my teddy.”

 

“Do three-hole cum deposits think?” he asked, as he slapped my arse… not hard, but also not playfully.

 

I again apologized, “No, sir. Cum deposits just obey,”

 

 

“Three-hole cum deposits,” he corrected, as he roughly flipped me into my back… another gush of wetness leaking out of me as he mastered me.

 

And as he tore my knickers off me, I corrected my previous answer, “Yes, sir, I’m a three-hole cum deposit, bimbo fuck whore whose purpose is to serve and obey.” Any feminists out there may be appalled, but I basked in the delicious humiliation!

 

I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my own mouth. The idea of being called names in the heat of lust had always turned me on, but I’d never imagined I would be belittling myself… and loving it.

 

Being blindfolded enhanced the situation even more, as I could hear him, but I couldn’t see him.

 

After I declared myself a bimbo whore, my very wet panties were shoved in my mouth. And for the first time in my life I tasted pussy… albeit my own. And I have to say, I tasted pretty good.

 

He flipped me on my back, pulled my entire body up on the bed, grabbed my wrists and handcuffed them to the bed.

 

I was now blindfolded, gagged and handcuffed, my cunny gazing vulnerably at the ceiling.

 

I was in heaven.

 

Excitement tingled throughout my entire body.

 

Anticipation stirred inside my loins.

 

Next thing I heard was the buzzing of a vibrator. My body trembled when the sensations gently brushed my cunny lips, making me moan into my knickers and spasmodically eject them from my mouth.

 

He sighed again as he shoved my knickers back in my face hole. “The knickers stay in your mouth until I come up there to retrieve them,” he ordered.

 

I wanted to ask what he meant by ‘until I come up to retrieve them’, but I was suddenly distracted by a vibrator that wasn’t slid into my pussy like I’d anticipated, but up my arse.

 

I bit on the knickers to stifle a scream of pleasure and pain. The vibe was clearly lubed, which made it slide easily in my ass, and it was a small vibe, smaller than George, so it was fairly easy to handle, but I wasn’t used to this, so it still hurt.

 

He said, shocking me, “I’ll be back after the sports highlights.”

 

Was he really going to leave me bound, gagged and blindfolded, with a working vibe up my ass?

 

The answer as I heard him walk away and close the bedroom door behind him was obviously, stunningly, yes.

 

And thus began an eternity of teasing.

 

My cunny was on fire but I couldn’t touch it.

 

I don’t know how long I lay there, but I was a complete mess. My cunny was leaking, my arse was buzzing and I was desperate to come.

 

When he finally returned, he wordlessly moved between my legs and began furiously fingering my twat, the vibe still buzzing away in my arse.

 

I don’t think he thrust those fingers in me a dozen times before I came screaming, my knickers again spilling out of my mouth, “Fuuuuuck!”

 

As I came, my mouth was again filled, this time by his wet fingers as he face-fucked me with his fingers coated in my cum.

 

“Suck off your cum, my slut,” he ordered.

 

He then returned his fingers to my cunt and resumed fingering me, while I still kept coming, before he pulled out again and wiped my excessive juices all over my face… giving me the strangest facial ever.

 

Not being able to see or to use my arms had me feeling so helpless, but I loved every minute of it.

 

I loved being used… dominated… treated as a cheap whore.

 

He lifted my ass up and put a pillow underneath me before he pulled the vibrator out of my ass and slammed his cock into it.

 

I screamed, “Holy fuck!”

 

My knickers were shoved back into my mouth as he pounded my ass hard.

 

A second orgasm quickly began building inside me as his groin simultaneously slapped my clit with each hard thrust.

 

And I came a second and third time from getting arse fucked… until he deposited a load in my arse… while calling me his arse slut.

 

He then pulled out, yanked my panties out of my mouth and shoved his cock in my mouth and ordered, “Suck it clean.”

 

And so in the throes of lust, I eagerly bobbed on a cock that had just been in my arse… feeling so dirty, but so hot at the same time.

 

***

“Earth to Natalie,” I heard, as someone slapped my right leg.

I looked up and was brought back to reality. Laura and I were still in the car.

“What were you thinking about?” Laura asked, before guessing accurately, “Your sexual liberation?”

“Something like that,” I smiled, although she took it for something I didn’t mean, as we reached the

We parked.

Once we’d walked to the terminal, she said, “Let’s skip to the loo.”

Needing to go, I joked, “You read my mind.”

“I know,” she nodded, again taking my words differently than I intended.

In the bathroom, she opened her suitcase and tossed me a bag.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Your airline outfit,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“My what?” I asked.

“I’ve chosen all your clothing for the weekend,” she said, “this is the outfit you’ll wear for the flight.”

“Seriously?” I asked, as I began to open the bag.

“This weekend you’re my bitch,” she declared, which oddly made my pussy tingle as I imagined something a lot more perverse than she likely meant.

Opening the bag, and seeing a red and blue cheerleader outfit in it, I repeated, “Seriously.”

“Give me an ‘A’!” she joked, posing with hip cocked and one arm over her head like a cheerleader. “Now go and put it on.”

“Fine!” I sighed, knowing she was going to be relentless.

I went into the stall and looked inside the bag. Besides the short skirt and sweater was a pair of red and blue horizontally striped thigh highs that matched.

I again objected, “You can’t really be serious, Laura. I’ll look like a teenage tart.”

“That’s the point,” Laura replied back. “Now hurry up. We’ve got to check in, go through security and get a bite to eat before our flight.”

“Fine!” I repeated, trying to communicate to her how not fine this was.

She ignored my tone, like she often did, and I got out of my casual attire and put on the thigh highs first. I love stockings and Laura knows this so this wasn’t a surprise. And these were quality sheer silk stockings, even though the stripes made me look like a carny tart.

I then put on the skimpy skirt that didn’t come close to covering the lace tops of the stockings.

I then put on the sweatshirt over my sports bra (I taught physical education, so I always dressed casual for work in a sports bra, comfy panties, track pants and a t-shirt), which I quickly learned was a size or two too small… tight enough that my tits stood out like small basketballs with cherries on top.

I again repeated, “Laura, you can’t be serious. I look like a complete bimbo slut.”

“This weekend you are a complete bimbo slut,” she said, before demanding, “now open up.”

I sighed, even as I wondered about her words, and exited the stall, runners in hand.

“Hot,” she said, checking me out.

I looked in the mirror and realized I did look sexy… I mean porn star slutty… but still… pretty hot.

She then lifted up my skirt and laughed, “Granny panties?”

“Practical panties,” I countered.

To my surprise, just as the door opened, she pulled my panties down and off. I mindlessly, quickly lifted up my feet to assist just as a stewardess walked in.

I definitely got looks as I… and the new arrival… watched Laura throw my panties in the garbage can.

I wanted to protest, but didn’t, with the stranger looking at me peculiarly.

Laura explained, “Hen.”

“Oh,” she nodded, and her gaze shifted from disapproving to conspiratorial.

Laura asked, “Are there any airline rules about dressing like this and having no underwear?”

She answered, “No, but letting your flight attendant know wouldn’t hurt. Not the no knickers part so much, but the hen part.”

“Good to know,” Laura nodded.

“They may even upgrade you if there are seats available,” she added, before asking, “And where are you going?”

“Amsterdam,” Laura answered, as I finally learned our rendezvous location and gasped… Amsterdam being the wildest city in Europe, and perhaps the wildest in the world outside Bangkok.

“That’s my flight too,” the young stewardess smiled. “Is it just you two?”

“Until tomorrow night,” Laura revealed.

“The stewardess said, “Well, give me your names and I’ll see if I can bump you to first class.”

“That would be great,” Laura smiled, as she went to her suitcase and pulled out heels. “Now put these on.”

“Five inch heels?” I questioned.

“Too short?” Laura asked jokingly, as she took my runners and put them in her suitcase (thankfully not throwing away a £60 pair of athletic shoes).

I put them on, already feeling nervous about my appearance.

She ordered, as she quickly wrote our names on a piece of paper and gave it to the stewardess, “Let’s go.”

Mostly sarcastic, but with a subtle hint of what I was secretly fantasizing behind my outer appearance, “Yes, Mistress.”

She stopped with a jerk, turned to me and said, “I like that. You will address me as ‘Mistress’ the entire trip.”

“The entire trip?” I repeated, realizing I had just given her more power than she really needed.

“Yes, my pet,” she purred with a wicked smile… my own pussy purring and leaking at the term… the lack of underwear definitely going to be a problem if I didn’t want to parade around with my upper thighs glistening. (‘Mommy, why are that lady’s legs glithening?’)

I followed her out of the bathroom, feeling that every person who I walked past was checking me out or judging me… which was a logical feeling because it was true. No, not because of ‘glistening’ legs, but because of such an outrageous outfit for a thirty-year-old to be wearing.

We checked our baggage in, where the older woman behind the counter didn’t even attempt to hide her scorn and disgust at what I was wearing. It was like someone had flicked a switch and I didn’t mind a bit. I was with Mistress Laura, and all the decisions and responsibility were hers. Not my problem!

Once the suitcases were gone and we had our tickets, Laura said, “Come on, my pet,” loud enough for the older judgmental woman to hear.

Deciding ‘fuck it’, I replied, also making sure I was loud enough for the woman to hear, “Yes, Mistress.” Our faces averted from the woman as we strutted saucily away, we shared grins and winks with each other as she gasped loudly.

We then headed to security… where I was worried that if I got a male agent I was going to be hassled like crazy… dressing like a tart was one thing, but the no panties was really making me uncomfortable, especially with the short, short skirt and the possibility that I would be required to stretch my arms over my head.

We waited in line for twenty minutes to get through security… feeling uncomfortable the entire time. Because we were surrounded by other passengers, Laura was tame, talking about the girls arriving tomorrow, report cards, and how our principal was a sexist asshole.

When I got to the security stop, I took off my heels carefully, so as not to flash anyone behind me, before walking through the security thing… knowing I was likely being stared at both by horny men and disgusted women (and hopefully some horny women).

It didn’t beep, of course, since I was pretty much naked.

But, of course, I had a woman do the ‘random testing’ hand bar beep thing, her face clearly judging me negatively. I explained, “Sorry, hen task.”

Her hard glare faded as she laughed, “Well, that makes more sense.”

“Trust me, not my choice,” I clarified.

She laughed, her demeanour changing completely, “Oh, to be young again.”

I laughed and went to grab my travel bag… and waited for Laura.

She walked to me a couple of minutes later, and said, “That was disappointing.”

“What?”

“I expected you to be strip searched,” she smiled.

“I’m already stripped naked,” I countered.

“Trust me,” she smirked, “you’re not what anybody would call naked… yet.”

She then started walking, leaving me wondering what that meant. We were in a public airport, about to board a public airline.

I followed, almost feeling like her submissive.

She stopped at a washroom and said, “I need to tinkle. Watch my bag.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I responded, playing up the sub-domme relationship today was creating.

“I really do enjoy being referred to as ‘Mistress’,” she said, before leaving me there. Alone, I perused the stores hoping to slyly buy myself a pair of panties… feeling really uncomfortable about being commando with such a short skirt. I saw a couple of knickers I liked and decided I would try to sneakily buy a pair when the chance presented itself.

When she returned, she took her bag and asked, looking at her watch, “Hungry?”

“Starving,” I nodded, missing my usual after school snack.

“I bet you are,” she purred, her tone not even remotely hiding her sexual intent.

So we went and ate at a pub. We ordered food and I excused myself to the washroom, where instead I headed back to the store and bought a pair of lace black panties. I went to the bathroom and put them on, proud of my secret disobedience.

I returned and she asked, “Get lost?”

I shrugged, “If you must know, I had to go number one and two.”

She laughed, “As your weekend Mistress, I need to know everything.”

“You’re really enjoying this?” I asked.

“You have no idea,” she smiled, before adding, “having my own submissive pet for the weekend can be very rewarding.”

I thought of some stories I’d read where a submissive was ordered to do some pretty wild things… and wondered how I would react if actually ordered to do something weird… so far I had obeyed (never mind my secret disobedience with the knickers I was now wearing). I shrugged, challenging her, allowing the conversation to continue, “I’m not sure you could handle me.”

“Oh really?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow, not used to being challenged, but not threatened by it either.

“Yeah,” I continued, not even sure where I was going with this, “when I get going, I’m insatiable.”

“Is that a fact?” she asked.

“That’s why George loves me so much,” I retorted confidently.

“Well, I’ll accept that challenge,” she smiled, before we finished eating… my cunny on fire.

We ate, had a couple of stiff drinks each, as I joked I’d rather have something else stiff instead. She responded contentedly, “Good to know.”

I paid for our meals, and we headed down a concourse to get ready for the flight: go pee one more time, grab a bottle of water (I was already tipsy), and a couple of snacks (the six pretzels one gets from the airline these days not enough, and actually an insult).

I got lots of looks: from teens and men which I enjoyed, and from women that I didn’t. A mixture of drools from men and disapproval from women.

We got to the check in gate just as our names were called… which was odd as boarding had not yet started.

Laura joked, “Maybe the stewardess did get us first class seats.”

“I wish,” I said, never having had the privilege of first class seats… not on a teacher’s pay, that’s for sure.

We went to the woman behind the counter who smiled, “Hen, right?”

“Yeah, I don’t usually dress so conservatively,” I joked, nice to have a woman not glaring at me with disgust.

“Well, I’ve got great news,” she continued, after laughing.

“We get to fly the plane?” I again responded sarcastically… being tipsy only adding to my wit.

“Well, not that good of news,” she said. “But we have upgraded the two of you to first class, and you’re the only two in that section.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised and excited.

“Yes, Angela made it happen,” she said.

Laura finally spoke, her tone strangely ominous, “Well, Natalie and I will definitely have to thank her personally.”

“Definitely,” I agreed, oblivious to Laura’s wicked intent.

She checked our passports, and she let us board the plane… first!!!

Laura took my hand, as if we were a couple, and said, “Now the fun really begins.”

“Your tone scares me,” I giggled slightly.

“Oh it shouldn’t scare you,” she said, giving my hand a squeeze. And it should have scared me, how natural it felt to have her hand in mine. She added, “It should make you feel alive.”

Before I could respond, we were at the airplane and being greeted by Angela.

“Welcome, ladies,” she greeted warmly.

“Thank you so much,” I gushed. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”

“Oh, I imagine we can find a few ways,” she smiled. If it hadn’t been for Laura’s earlier tone I likely wouldn’t have thought about it… yet, her tone seemed to be similarly ominous… just like Laura’s. She also smiled secretively and gave Laura a significant look.

Laura added, “Yes, it was very gracious of you.”

“No problem,” Angela smiled warmly, grasping Laura’s upper arm familiarly.

Laura then added to my suspicions of naughty innuendo when she said, “Yes, my pet will be more than willing to repay you.”

“I can’t wait,” Angela said, leading us to two seats in the front.

“Wow!” Was all I could muster as I stared at the big comfy chairs and leg room, already forgetting Laura’s ominous promise.

“Well, enjoy,” Angela smiled, “I need to deal with the rest of the passengers.”

“See you soon,” Laura smiled, as she offered me the window seat to the right of the aisle, “Go ahead, my pet.”

“You sure, Mistress?” I questioned, thoroughly enjoying the sexual tension, playful banter and submissive hierarchy.

“Yes, my pet, I need you to be my right hand gal,” she said.

That had me curious, but like in the many online stories I’d read, I didn’t question the Mistress.

Once seated, Laura sat beside me as other passengers began walking past us.

Everyone, without exception, checking me out.

And getting past the reality I looked like a cheap Supergirl skank, I began to enjoy it, smiling at the men and women and winking at the college boys.

Once everyone was seated, and another stewardess was making the generic safety announcements that no one ever listened to (I always wonder if anyone would actually know what to do if there was a crisis), Laura whispered, “Ready for take-off?”

She knew I hated take-off, and I nodded, “As good as I can be.”

“I have something to keep you distracted,” she said, reaching into her purse.

“Drugs?” I joked.

“Better,” she smiled, before I watched her move her hand beneath my skirt and order, “Open up.”

I was shocked, as I obeyed, and she asked, moving my knickers aside and sliding something inside my wet cunny, “When did you get panties?”

“When I went to the bathroom,” I moaned, as something round was now inside me.

“Very well, you will be punished for that disobedience,” she said, moving her hand away and putting her fingers, wet with my pussy juice, in my open mouth.

“Sorry,” I apologized, thinking how strange it was I was apologizing for wearing panties. I had tasted my pussy on my own fingers many times, but somehow it tasted better and sexier when it was on Laura’s.

“Take them off,” she ordered.

“Really?” I asked, Angela sitting down near the cockpit door as we got ready for take-off.

“Now!” she almost shouted. It was low volume, but her intensity was startling.

I felt compelled to obey, especially since I was the one who hadn’t obeyed in the first place, I lifted my ass up, making the thing inside me move around, as I awkwardly pulled my new panties off.

Once they were off, Laura ordered, “Give them to me.”

As I grabbed them, I realized how wet they were. I handed them to her, hoping she wouldn’t notice, although it would be impossible not to.

“Holy shit, these are soaked,” Laura said, loud enough for Angela to hear. “And you only had these on for an hour?”

“I guess,” I answered, realizing how pathetic I seemed to be, becoming that soaked by this treatment.

“You like being my pet, don’t you?” she asked.

Deciding to stop hiding behind any false facade of dignity, I admitted, “Yes, Mistress Laura.”

“So you will obey my every order this weekend without hesitation?” she asked, as the plane gradually started to move.

“Yes, Mistress,” I agreed without hesitation, deciding it was enthralling to just give myself to her for the weekend… wetness leaking out of me.

No thinking.

No worrying about my decisions.

Just obeying.

Living with the philosophy that ‘what happens in Amsterdam, stays in Amsterdam’, I let loose of any invisible chains holding me back.

“Good,” she smiled, taking my hand in her right one and picking something up out of her lap with the other.

“Oh God!” I moaned loudly, as I discovered that what was now in her hand was a remote control, and what was inside me was a vibrating egg… one I recalled her buying a few months ago… at a sex toy party we were at where she was joking to me that she could use it to get off at work during her prep time.

“See, I found the perfect thing to keep you distracted,” she said, squeezing my hand, as the vibration sent pleasure through me.

I closed my eyes like I always do when take-off is about to happen… although instead of praying to God to keep me alive, I prayed I wasn’t going to scream in orgasmic euphoria as the wild day and the vibrations had me close to coming in seconds.

Then just as I was close… the vibrating stopped. Laura whispered, “Here is your punishment for disobeying.”

“Please, let me come,” I begged, so close that desperation was my only emotion, just as the plane began picking up speed.

“Only good obedient sluts get to come,” Laura said, again loud enough for Angela to hear.

I couldn’t believe she’d just called me a slut, but I responded like one, not caring that Angela was listening avidly to every word, “Yes, Mistress Laura, I’ll be a good slut.”

The vibrations resumed and I moaned, as I closed my eyes again, “Thank you, Mistress.”

“Don’t open your eyes until you’ve come twice,” she ordered, and the vibrations got more intense just as the plane took off.

“Fuck!” I moaned, biting my lip to not scream and alert the entire plane I was having a first class orgasm.

Laura chuckled, “You just took off.”

I smiled at the double meaning, but kept my eyes shut and just focused on enjoying the orgasm that was ripping through me at turbo speed… not at all worried about dying in a massive burst of flames… the flames consuming me at the moment being very welcome ones.

“Keep coming, my eager submissive slut,” Laura ordered, her right hand going to my leg.

Her hand felt so warm, so good, as my first orgasm continued its lengthy, all nerve hitting euphoria.

I just sat there, allowing the egg inside me to do all the work, as the buzzing kept the pleasure going. As my first orgasm finally died away, a second was rising.

“You’re going to do whatever I tell you, right my little slut?” Laura asked, her hand moving up my thigh at a snail’s pace with intriguing intent.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I answered.

The first yes because the pleasure was making it impossible to think straight.

The second yes because the idea of being a submissive slut who just obeys without hesitation is my greatest fantasy.

The third yes because the thought of being Laura’s pet was the cherry on the cake of submission.

“What if I made you fuck yourself right here with the coke bottle in your bag?” she asked.

The idea of something pumping in and out of my burning inferno was intense and I responded, “I’d do it, Mistress.

“What if I wanted to shove a butt plug up that arse of yours?” she continued, her hand now under my sorry excuse for a skirt.

Recalling this line in a few stories I’d read on Literotica, I responded with a moan, loving having my arse filled, “All three of my holes are for you to do whatever you want.”

“What if I make you eat out Angela over there?” she pushed the envelope, her fingers touching my pussy lips, making me moan loudly.

So horny, so curious, so obedient, I agreed, the idea of finally eating pussy and fulfilling that fantasy a sudden possibility, however small, “I would eat her if you gave the order and she was willing.”

And as she rubbed my clit, my second orgasm in as many minutes growing rapidly at the triple pleasure: the egg inside, the fingers on my clit and the naughty verbal mind games.

Then the climactic question. Her fingers now tugging on my clit, she asked, “And if I ordered you to munch on my own snatch?”

There it was.

The question I was excited to hear… my greatest fantasy… eating out my best friend… suddenly possible.

The question I was terrified to hear… the consequences of eating out my friend risky… it could change everything.

Yet, I answered based on lust, based on being the submissive in my own erotica story, “Yes, Mistress Laura,” I moaned way louder than I meant to, unable to control myself any longer, even as I opened my eyes and looked into hers, “All I need is your permission and I’ll be your pussy munching, cunt licking, submissive slut. Just say the word.”

“Do it!” Laura ordered, surprising me, her voice firm and dominant.

“N-n-now?” I questioned, my second orgasm so close I could taste it… as she moved her hand away and shut off the egg inside me.

The seat belt sign turned off just as she repeated, “Yes, now.”

I looked at Angela who was staring in awe, nodding encouragingly at me as our eyes met, as I tried to come to grips with the fantasy becoming reality… yet the risk of being caught in an airliner was huge.

Laura added, turning the egg back on low, “And don’t you dare come again until your Mistress has had an orgasm.”

I was shocked.

I had fantasized such things… but fantasy and reality are two very different kingdoms. Yet I quickly unbuckled my seat belt, urgently lowered myself to the floor between my best friend’s parted legs, the egg inside me still vibrating, and stared at her completely shaved pussy… which was already glistening with wetness. Was she as excited to have me licking, as I was to lick her?

“Hurry up,” she demanded, as her pussy stared into my eyes hypnotically.

I broke out of my momentary spell, leaned forward, extended my tongue and began licking. I had tasted myself off my fingers and off cock, but this taste was way stronger, tangier, directly from the source.

I was instantly licking eagerly, wanting to get her off and taste the full flood of her pussy juice, plus hurry because of the risky setting where I was committing this lesbian act. I knew Angela was watching, and probably even touching herself, but what if another stewardess came up front or one of the pilots walked into the cabin?

“That’s it my weekend slut, discover your purpose for the weekend… to munch snatch,” Laura said, the idea that the whole weekend was about licking pussy was both exciting (I was already addicted to Laura’s taste) and terrifying (was she going to make me eat out strangers and my other best friends?). Yet at the moment it didn’t matter, all that mattered was the here and now… getting her off.

I licked her pussy, parting her pussy lips and trying to tongue fuck her hole.

I sucked on her clit, tugging it between my lips… as that was what got me off.

“Oh shit, Natalie, don’t stop sucking on my clit you fucking lesbian slut,” she demanded, grabbing my head and shoving my face deep into her wetness.

I sucked aggressively on her clit while still trying to lick, eager to make her come… to taste her cum.

“Oh yes, fuck, yes,” Laura babbled, clearly close to orgasm before she exploded an abundance of cum all over my face… her cum flooding into my open mouth, onto my face… baptizing me as an official lesbian cum craving slut.

I kept licking… loving the full taste of rapture.

I was still licking a couple seconds later when I heard a gasp, “Mrs. Green?”

I should have kept my head down, hiding my face, but my gut response was to look up.

The voice gasped a second time, “Ms. Sharp?”

I should have quickly moved away from the compromising position between my best friend’s legs… the evidence totally incriminating… both my position and the wetness all over my face… yet, I was paralyzed as I stared at a student I’d taught a couple of years ago: Sophia, in a stewardess uniform, a sweetheart who was a determined volleyball player and very strong academically… and her phone was in her hand. Had she filmed this? Was she filming now?

“I heard a commotion and decided to come make sure Angela was okay,” she said, her shocked face shifting quickly to amused. “Clearly you are.”

Angela laughed, sucking on a finger, “Trust me, I’m fine.”

Laura said, “Sophia, we can explain this.”

Sophia laughed, “I think I understand without any explanation at all. You’re turning your best friend into a pet.” She looked down at me in a friendly way before adding, “Been there, done that.”

Did that mean she had lesbian sex with her best friend and teammate Josie? I couldn’t fathom. Yet, I couldn’t fathom being on my knees, on an airplane between my best friend’s legs either.

“You look really good with Mrs. Green’s cunt juice all over your face, Ms. Sharp,” Sophia commented, shocking me by her words and use of the ‘c’ word. Her sweet teenaged demeanour was gone and replaced with a dominance I often read about online. In stories where straight-laced nerds dominate teachers or cheerleaders. “Actually, I think you would look even better between my legs,” she added, climbing over Laura and me, taking my seat. She turned to Laura and asked, “You don’t mind, do you?”

Laura seemed rattled after being in complete control during her domination of me the past couple of hours. “Sophia, we need to talk.”

Sophia shook her head. “No, you need to listen. I have some delicious evidence on my phone. If you want it to stay in my phone and not be sent to Principal Mather you will do exactly as you’re told. Is that clear?”

Laura was speechless.

I was speechless.

I was mortified at being caught.

I was dazed with what my ex-student had just suggested I do.

I was confused by the gush leaking down my leg… although I could blame the egg.

I was terrified of losing my job.

I was stunned that the sweet Sophia was blackmailing us.

I was just generally bewildered.

“Now get over here, Ms. Sharp, I have the best hen present ever,” Sophia said, spreading her legs and revealing both that she was wearing thigh high stockings under her uniform and, like Laura, wasn’t wearing knickers. I briefly wondered how she knew this was a hen, but that thought was pushed aside as I stared at her pussy.

Also, like Laura, her shaved pussy had a slight gleam to it… as if she’d already been anticipating my tongue.

I looked up at Laura who just shrugged with worry before I lowered my face to my ex-student’s pussy… trepidation and eagerness washing through me simultaneously.

“There you go, Ms. Sharp,” Sophia moaned, as my tongue made contact with her wetness. And like the first taste of Laura, I instantly wanted more.

I no longer cared about the video.

I no longer cared about the consequences.

I only cared about eating Sophia’s pussy.

Sophia continued, adding more consequences to the blackmail, “This weekend you two are mine.”

As I licked, Laura pleaded, “Please, Sophia, we can work something out.”

“We are. Ms. Sharp is working something out right now,” she responded, as her hands went through my hair as I eagerly licked the heavenly treasure between her legs… trying to listen, while simultaneously trying to please the sweet pussy. “You two will be my playthings all weekend, and if you obey every command, I will keep the secret that two teachers at Walker High are lesbian sluts.”

Laura began to speak, “But, I….”

“Angela, would you like your cunt munched?” Sophie asked.

She responded, “Sure, why not?”

“Go have a hot dinner,” Sophie ordered Laura.

Laura again began to speak, “Please, I….”

Sophia again cut her off and ordered, “Now, Mrs. Green, or I send the video of you getting your twat munched to your husband as well as to Principal Mather.”

I felt Laura brush against me as she got up, no longer protesting, as I kept licking the teen’s sweet pussy.

Sophia asked, moving her hand under my chin and pulling me up slightly to look at her, “Enjoying yourself, Ms. Sharp?”

I should have lied, or at least pretended I wasn’t enjoying the blackmail, yet I answered, “Very much so, Mistress Sophia.”

I didn’t realize I had used the term ‘Mistress’ until it had escaped my lips… twice in one day… clearly my lesbian submissive tendencies were deeply engrained in my subconscious.

“Mistress,” she smiled, “I like that,” guiding me back between her legs.

As I licked, she continued, “I told Josie all you gym teachers and coaches were cunt munchers, but she didn’t believe me. Man, are the other three tongue twat ticklers too?”

I had to admit I appreciated the alliteration as I stammered, “N-n-no.”

“Just you two?” Sophia asked.

“Yes,” I nodded, before adding, “this was the first time, actually.”

“No way!” she said. “So I was wrong, but eventually right.” She laughed, “That’s delicious.”

“So is this,” I responded, burying my face back between her legs, wanting to savour the sin… consequences be damned.

“That’s it, slut,” Angela moaned from six feet away, “did you really think we gave you first class seats out of the goodness of our hearts?”

Sophia added, as I licked, “I saw you two going into the bathroom and sent Angela in to talk to you while I headed to see if first class was empty; it often is because, let’s be honest, the cost is exorbitant.”

I looked up, dazed and shocked, “You planned this?”

“Of course,” Sophia nodded, guiding my head back to her wet pussy, before adding, “the fact that it was a hen and that Mrs. Green was dominating you already made this the easiest seduction ever… I mean I barely had to do anything. I’d figured turning two teachers would be the ultimate challenge, but it ended up being my easiest conquest in a long while.”

Part of me was furious at Laura for putting us in this situation.

Another part of me was exhilarated at my seemingly impossible submission fantasy suddenly coming true.

The two parts collided in confusion as I pushed the fear of the future out of my head and focused on the tantalizing sparking fireworks bursting on my tongue.

Sophia continued, “If you obey me all weekend, your secrets and cheating will stay a secret. If you disobey, your employers, husband and fiancé will not only know everything, but also receive videos of all our dirty little secrets.”

She again pulled my head up and stopped me from licking her. I answered, feeling I had to agree because she had the video and also because I wanted to be back between her legs. I was already addicted to her pussy and enjoying the humiliation. I responded, “Yes, Mistress.”

She said, turning my head towards Angela and Laura, to see Laura fingering the pretty stewardess.

“Eat me, slut,” Angela ordered.

“I’ve never done that before,” Laura admitted.

“So you make your best friend eat your twat and you have no intention of returning the favour?” Angela accused, as I watched and listened in awe.

“I knew her fantasy was to be dominated for a weekend, so I was giving it to her,” Laura admitted, before adding, “plus, I’m always the domme.”

“So you’ve never once eaten cunny?” Angela asked.

“Never.”

Sophia ordered, “Go help your friend join you as a submissive pussy slut.”

Oddly, this excited me. I wanted Laura to go along with me… to join me in this secret submissive show.

“Kiss your best friend,” Sophia ordered us.

I pulled Laura around and kissed her on the lips… letting her get just the slightest hint of pussy taste from my lips.

Laura was startled at first, things had gotten out of hand for her very quickly, but after a moment of dazed shock, she began kissing me back.

After a few seconds, Angela pointed out, “I’ve got a pussy that needs licking… soon. I need to go and start serving passengers.”

“Well you need to be served first,” I offered graciously, pushing Laura’s head not so graciously into the stewardess’s cunny.

“And now you’re going to love cunny,” Angela said with a laugh as I held my best friend’s face between the pretty stranger’s legs.

After a moment, Angela moaned, “That’s it, get that twitching tongue deep in my twat.”

The experience of my forcing Laura to eat cunny was a major turn on, although it also made me want to be the one doing the licking. I couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of my mouth as I ordered, “That’s it slut, eat that twat. Get that tongue deep in there and tongue fuck her.”

I moved my hand to her pussy and began fingering her as Angela began grinding her pussy all over Laura’s face.

“Don’t stop, slut,” Angela demanded, getting very aggressive on her face… which made me finger Laura faster… two fingers, then three.

“The whole fist,” Sophia ordered.

“Really?” I asked.

“Fist fuck the slut,” Sophia demanded, her tone totally no nonsense.

“Yes, Mistress,” I nodded, as I made a fist and forced it inside Laura’s very wet cunt.

“Ohhhhhhhh,” she moaned, as Angela grabbed her head too, adding her strength to mine, somehow pulling Laura deeper into her wet box. I was in awe when my entire fist disappeared inside her.

“Oh yes, don’t stop,” Angela moaned, clearly close.

“Fist fuck her faster,” Sophia demanded, the alliteration kind of hot… my wrist now cunt deep.

I obeyed, fist fucking her quickly, feeling a strange exhilaration at both the taboo of the act and from obeying.

Angela came a moment later, letting out a loud moan as I watched her body shake and her mouth tremble. The beauty of a woman in that vulnerable moment of orgasm is so sexy.

I kept fist fucking Laura, who when her head was finally let go, began bouncing back on my arm, moaning, “Faster, slut, fist fuck the hell out of me.”

And for a couple of minutes, she bounced back, while I thrust forward going deeper, I imagine, than any cock possibly could (except for those freak of nature porn cocks) as I watched her cunt engulf my arm, going several inches up my forearm.

The pleasure was obviously intense, as Laura babbled like a bitch in heat, “Oh God, yes, faster, fuck, shit, oh fuck….”

Then she came… hard… Angela covering her mouth to silence the scream that would have alerted the entire plane.

When I pulled my hand out, there was a loud pop and cum leaked out of her and onto the floor, while my own hand and halfway up my arm was drenched. Instinctively, I licked my best friend’s cum off my fingers.

“Clean all the cum off your friend’s face, Ms. Sharp,” Sophia ordered, a reminder of my teacher status, my almost-married status.

I spun my exhausted and sated friend around and licked Angela’s cum off her face. She’d gone completely limp, and I needed to support her so she didn’t slump completely to the floor.

Angela stood up and sighed, “I guess I should go do some work.”

“I’ll be there in a few,” Sophia said. “I’ve got to finish with my pet yet.”

“Take your time, the plane is two-thirds empty,” Angela shrugged.

“Why don’t you send the slut to go and get her snack from the pilots,” Sophia suggested. She then snapped her fingers and ordered me, “Pet, come and get your snack from me.”

I quit licking the wetness off of Laura, gave her a pitying look, and crawled back to my ex-student who hadn’t left her/my seat… crawling back between her legs… resuming the licking I craved to give.

“I’m sure they’ll have some warm cream ready for her,” Angela said.

“Please no, I can’t cheat on my husband,” Laura pleaded, suddenly filled with fear.

Sophia scoffed, “You already have, bitch, plus I wasn’t asking if you wanted to, I was ordering you. Now go through that door before I decide to send out some videos, including the new one of you eagerly riding your best friend’s fist.”

“Please, I….” Laura began, near tears.

“Now, you dumb cunt,” Sophia interrupted. “You just got yourself another punishment. Now, if they want to they can fuck you in any of your holes.”

“Let’s go,” Angela added, Laura no longer saying anything.

I licked the heavenly twat, feeling at home on my knees, between a pair of legs, licking twenty year old twat.

I heard Angela say, “Hi guys, we have a gift for you.”

“Oh, she’s hot,” a male voice said.

“All three holes are available,” Angela added.

“Very nice,” the voice said.

“Have fun,” Angela said, before I heard the door close… curious what they were going to make Laura do.

Part of me felt sorry for her having to cheat on her husband… doing lesbian things was one thing, sucking or fucking men was another thing entirely.

Part of me felt excited for her… doing a pilot had always been a fantasy… especially in the cockpit (which seemed to be the perfect name for it).

Part of me wanted to watch… the debauchery of Laura at the hands and cunt of Angela and now the pricks of the pilots somehow made this entire wild flight even hotter.

Part of me wanted to just lick cunt after cunt… imagining being made to crawl through the plane serving every woman on the flight.

“That’s it, suck my clit way past your lips,” Sophia moaned. “You’re a natural pussy pleaser, I’m surprised you didn’t know that before now.”

Oddly, the compliment flattered me… I’d always strived to be the best at everything I did… basketball, work, marriage and sex. I sucked her clit strongly into my mouth, flicking on the clit with my tongue while simultaneously tugging on it with the suction of my lips.

“Don’t stop, teacher pet,” Sophia moaned, grabbing my head and pulling me deeper into her cunt… my face getting soaked by her wetness.

I had no intention of stopping… wanting to get her off… wanting to taste the full flood of her cum.

After a few more seconds I got it… a great burst of pussy cream splattered my face as I finally found out what a squirter was… it was like a fire hose shooting in my face… except yummy… and she drenched my face.

I kept lapping it up, like a kitty licking milk, until she pushed me away and laughed, “I think you’ve discovered your true calling.”

Yet, I also still needed to come, the buzzing inside me had kept me on constant tease since before Sophia had walked in.

Sophia stood up and asked, reading my body, “Do you need to come?”

“Yes, please,” I answered, so submissive… my long delayed second orgasm desperate to explode.

She grabbed the remote that had been sitting on Laura’s armrest and pressed a button.

“Ooooh,” I moaned, the intensity of the vibrations increasing exponentially.

“Beg to come,” she ordered.

I looked up, saw her phone aimed at me and knew I was being filmed, yet so desperate to come, consequences be damned, I answered, using many of the terms I’d read in so many stories of straight women learning submissiveness, “Please, Mistress, let your bimbo teacher pet come like the submissive whore she was born to be.”

She nodded, “And do you promise to obey my every order all weekend?”

“Yes, Mistress” I willingly agreed, tomorrow so far away and only the present mattering… realising I had now made that promise to two people.

“Declare yourself mine and use your name,” Sophia ordered, looking down at me.

Again there was no hesitation, only utter obedience, my orgasm so close, yet still denied, I declared, through growing moans, “I’m Natalie Sharp, and I am a complete submissive pet to the young and beautiful Sophia.”

“More.”

“I swear I will obey my former student without hesitation. My only purpose this weekend is to please,” I continued, the words so surreal.

“Come… four… three… two… one… NOW,” she ordered.

I instantly moved my hand to my clit and rubbed it frantically, coming in under ten seconds. “Thank you,” I moaned, before falling bonelessly backwards against the cabin’s forward wall, as the intensity of the pleasure took over.

The orgasm seemed to last forever.

Pleasure coursed through every part of my body.

I lay there for a few minutes, before I recovered enough for a sudden guilt to wash over me.

Risk analysis hit me.