The New Year Family Weekend, Saturday
"Can you please cover her up?" The fat man in the grey business suite said as he received his champagne.
He moved uncomfortably to find a way to sit in the seat which was too small for his size.
"Will do sir." The stewardess answered politely, and she walked over to Donna's seat, just two rows ahead of him.
Donna pretended to be asleep. She was too embarrassed with her attire to face the other passengers.
But she couldn't keep her eyes closed either. She was drunk, and she felt the whole plane spinning and turning when she closed them too long. Fear of throwing up as her environment turned wildly made her open her eyes frequently, made her stay awake, praying she would get sober fast.
She also longed for something to eat, but she knew she would throw it up instantly, creating the scenes she wanted to avoid. She wanted, no needed, to drink. The long night, the dry air on the plane, had made her dehydrated, but still she was too afraid to ask.
She would for sure stutter, rattle like the drunk she was, and that was just too embarrassing. Apart from that, she would throw that up too.
And so she found herself with her eyes shut as long as possible, fighting her sleep, fighting not to throw up as the alcohol took the plain into yet another loop.
--
It had been early in the morning when she had woken up and found she was being dragged off the stage. They had brought her to a toilet, where she was allowed to attend to her morning needs.
She had sleepily done so, and afterwards had been pushed over the toilet bowl, and given an enema. It turned out to contain alcohol, a liquor or something like that. On an empty stomach, tired and dehydrated, it had taken effect immediately.
--
Donna curled up as much as possible in the uncomfortable aisle seat. Ninon must have checked her in on that seat on purpose. She couldn't hide away against the side of the plane, against the window.
No, now she had to be careful not to disturb her neighbor on the left, another fat businessman. Or she would lean too much into the aisle whenever she blanked out, forcing the stewardess to ask her to sit upright, to please sit decent.
A fresh blanket covered her, and she felt the stewardess hovering over her, tucking her in, or better, hiding her.
The fat man next to her sighed and whispered "Can you do also something about the smell?"
"I will try sir." The stewardess answered, and walked away.
Donna knew she smelled awful. Having had only the enema this morning, before being rushed to the airport. And after the long night she knew she smelled of sweat, her dried cunt juices, and, due to the enema, of alcohol too.
How would her family react if they saw her in this state? Robert had planned to pick her up, probably with Lisa and Trixy too. They would see her drunk, and dressed like a slut, a worn-out whore.
Donna was not surprised she had been singled out for a body check. She looked like a freak, and she had an expensive business ticket. It was only logical they had thought she had drugs on her, or at least that something was just not right.
Donna hid a bit more behind the blanket, but her legs with the green latex still stuck out. It was impossible to get the bulky plateau shoes on the chair. She kept them on as her feet smelled awful. How she needed a shower! And her constant fight not to throw up...
She hated herself, hated Ninon, Ms. Brendan, everyone around her.
She shifted a bit more and drifted into an unsteady sleep again, full of delirium dreams. She dreamt of Robert shouting at her when he saw her coming out, while her embarrassed daughters looked on.
She woke up with a shock, almost kicking the plate for her neighbor out of the hands of the stewardess. The attendant gave Donna an angry look, and Donna mumbled an apology, before hiding again under her blanket.
How would she explain the business ticket from her credit card? Another expense...
"Whores fly business class. That's where the best future clientele is." Ninon had said, and Donna couldn't object of course.
But how she wished she had. Now she had to explain this expense to Robert, and he was already so difficult with money.
"Fuck..." she thought wearily "That feeble expense is nothing compared to the charges for the operation, the house, the clothes, and whatever else. Who am I kidding?"
She knew the only way to get those expenses cleaned out was to sell herself.
"It won't get rid of the statements, but at least everything would be paid for..."
"And as long as I 'sell' myself to my own husband..." she concluded as she recalled the instructions of Ms. Brendan; vaguely that is.
She had been given some clothing, the black latex plateau shoes, and was dressed. Next, she had been rushed into the living room. where a tired Ms. Brendan awaited her, joined by a neatly washed and dressed Ninon. She had had a normal night at least.
Donna remembered some instructions, which boiled down to the same ones as before; Robert had done a terrific job, and she was his gift from Ms. Brendan. In other words, she had to fuck him like a rabbit again.
And her whole body was in pain, as was the inside of her vagina from that fucked up whipping.
"How can I reach 25 fucks with him in this state?" Donna wondered as she restlessly gyrated in her seat, making her neighbor grunt once again.
"My entire body hurts like hell, my vagina has been mutilated, and I'm at his parent's house, with the whole family there too. And on top of that, I missed one day already."
When she had been taken out of Ms. Brendan's mansion, Ninon informed her that she had missed her families flight and would take one three hours later. She had already informed Robert the party had been a bit on the wild side, and that she, Donna, had gotten drunk, so she had to sober up before she could take the latter flight.
"She had my cell phone..." Donna thought in a clear moment.
But that didn't surprise her actually. This whole life she was leading now was perfectly orchestrated by Ms. Brendan and Ninon. They had known beforehand she wouldn't make the plane.
"How foolish I am..."
"Fuck, fuck no..." she suddenly corrected herself, "... she actually gave me a new phone again. Another new number...Fuck, I'm drunk! I can't even remember what happened this morning clearly..."
The green latex had started to crack here and there, but that just made her look all the more like a freak; a dirty, smelly freak.
And what exactly had Ms. Brendan told her to do? Donna couldn't recall anything, no details, only vague moments that stuck despite the alcohol. All she knew for sure was that he, Robert, had done a good job.
