For decades, the flying unit had been men only. Riley had fought hard to be admitted to it as a woman, had taken the matter to court, and had finally won an agreement from the unit that she could fly, “subject to all requirements for our science”.
She should have insisted the agreement read “the science”, not “our science”. She would regret it later – after she had already signed a contract committing her to three years of work in the unit.
Before she could fly she needed a thorough medical check-up. This was performed in the hangar in front of all the male pilots, as there was no specific women’s medical room. It required her to strip, and she blushed as the doctor weighed her breasts, probed her pussy and anus with gloved fingers, and asked her extensive questions about her sexual history (seven men, two women, ejaculation in all of her holes, no pregnancies).
Her first flight was magical enough to make up for it, though. But afterwards the unit captain told her he was taking away her flight uniform.
“You’ll fly naked,” he told her. “These planes have very strict weight requirements. You don’t need clothes up there, so we’ll take them off you and save that much weight.”
“The men get to wear clothes!” she protested.
“The men don’t have tits,” said the captain. “You’re bringing extra weight. If you didn’t have such giant udders this wouldn’t be necessary. It’s your own fault for carrying those whorebags around on your chest.”
Flying nude was embarrassing. So was walking around the hangar nude, as it was pointed out to her it was against regulations to wear anything other than one’s uniform at work, and she didn’t have a uniform. When she was told to wash down her plane with soap and water, still nude, she began to feel less like a pilot and more like a porn star – and doubly so after the captain told her to stop using a sponge and instead just soap up her tits and rub them back and forth across the metal. “Our science says it gives a better polish,” he said, smirking.
A week later she found that a rubber vibrating dildo had been attached to her cockpit seat. “Our science says women think with their cunts,” said the captain. “We want you at your smartest up there, so you’ll snug that thing in your fuckhole before take-off and let it buzz away throughout your flight.”
There was a dildo on her seat in the training room too. “You’ll need your brain on during training,” her captain said, “and as discussed, your brain is in your pussy. We want you to masturbate while you listen, too, and play with your nipples.”
Despite the captain’s assertions about her brain, she found it hard to think while aroused, and almost crashed her plane twice. The captain considered the problem, and decided she was being affected by being too horny. After talking to the scientists, he held an all-pilots meeting and said it was the responsibility of every man on the base to ensure Riley had been raped until she orgasmed before getting in any plane.
Riley protested, but to no avail. They slapped her face and tits until she became compliant, and then took turns cumming in and on her. To her shame, she orgasmed twice, and flew her plane that day with cum dripping from her face and naked tits and pooling on her seat as it dripped from her pussy and anus.
She still felt horny and stupid on these flights, particularly with the dildo in her, and eventually she asked if she could be released from flight duty as she didn’t feel safe. In fact, she felt terrified, and was willing to do anything to get out of the plane. The captain agreed, but noted she was under contract for three years at a very high pay point. He offered to change her duties so as to not include flying – but she would need to agree to increase her rapings to three times daily, take responsibility for washing *all* the planes with her tits, serve as the unit’s urinal, and get a tattoo identifying her as the official unit whore. She eagerly agreed, as best she could with the captain’s cock in her mouth…
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