“Welcome to the Stew Zoo,” said Marjorie Deakin.

She was dressed in a navy blue stewardesses uniform. Her form-fitting jacket had silver piping along the lapels and cuffs and a pair of silver wings clipped to her right breast. Her legs were clad in sheer black stockings and her feet shod in four-inch black patent leather high heels. Her hair was blonde, but dark roots were visible and she wore heavy makeup. Candi estimated that she was probably about forty.

“Ok. I’ll bite. Why the Stew Zoo?” Mandy McDonald asked.

“Well all the hosties call it that. It’s short for Stewardess Zoo I suppose,” Marjorie replied.

It was Candi's first day at school and the weekend leading up to it had been hectic.

John Benstead had wanted to stay the night on the evening Candi had passed the selection board. They had already made love three times and Candi wanted a little space so when she eased him out the door at one am on a cold and wintry Saturday morning he went reluctantly.

Candi went back to bed and snuggled under the covers dressed only in her knickers, stockings and negligee and she slept in. She was woken by a banging on her door around ten am and she stomped down the stairs ready to tear the face off whoever was at the door, but then she saw it was Michelle.

Candi invited her inside.

“You fucking slag!” Michelle barked.

“What?” Candi was still sleepy.

“You spend the night fucking with John Benstead and you can’t even be bothered telling your best friend that you got accepted into the flight steward training academy,” Michelle picked up the large manilla envelope and poured the contents on the desk.

“Look here are your joining instructions. Bet you haven’t even read them cause’ you’ve been too busy behaving like a slut!” Michelle slapped the document back on the desk.

Candi was caught totally off guard.

“I’m so sorry Michelle I was going to call you straight away but after what you said…” Michelle cut Candi off by pulling her into her arms and kissing and hugging her.

“Ha, ha, gotcha!” Michelle grinned.

“Congratulations darling. Of course I didn’t expect you to call me. Not when you had that hunk John Benstead in your bed,” Michelle raised her eyebrows.

“I didn’t know he was a tranny chaser, otherwise I might have taken him for myself,” she joked.

“So are you going to offer me a cup of tea?” Michelle asked.

“Sure honey; take a seat,” Candi replied.

Candi put on the kettle, warmed the pot and put the tea in it. She set up cups and saucers and when she reached into the cupboard for sugar she caught a glimpse of herself.

“Ow yuck!” she saw that most of her makeup had worn off and her hair was a mess.

She ducked into the hallway and fixed her makeup and brushed her hair in the hallstand mirror. Since she had become Candi full time, she had makeup and lingerie scattered all around the house. She was just like a real girl in the regard. Candi was spraying herself with perfume when Michelle came up behind her with two cups of tea.

“Coffee, tea, or me?” she joked.

“Sorry; I got so busy freshening up that I forgot the tea,” Candi apologised.

“But since you ask; I’ll take you,” Candi took the two cups from Michelle and put them down on the sideboard.

Michelle was wearing high heels and Candi was in stocking feet, John wouldn’t let Candi take her stockings off when they made love so they were laddered and she had left them on overnight, so Candi had to get on her tippy toes to kiss Michelle.

The girls kissed; their lipstick merging and their tongues entwining.

Candi eased Michelle back into the lounge room without breaking the kiss. Michelle felt the stuffed armrest of the lounge against the back of her knees. She broke the kiss briefly.

“Babe, I really only came around here to congratulate you. I have to work today; I have a meeting this morning,” Michelle explained.

Candi looked sad and pouted.

“But…I do have time for a quick shag and I really want one. Just a quickie ok?” Michelle grinned coyly.

Michelle was wearing a short skirt and sixty denier winter tights which she simply pulled down to her knees along with her knickers. She hadn’t needed to gaff because the heavy tights held her penis snugly between her legs but it was now semi-erect.

Candi was at full tumescence as Michelle released her prick from her panties. Michelle dropped to her knees and sucked Candi for a little while; then jumped back up to her feet and bent over the armrest.

“Fuck me babe,” she looked back over her shoulder invitingly.

Candi stood between Michelle’s legs with her penis nestled in Michelle’s anal bud which had been pre-lubricated by Michelle in anticipation.

Candi pushed her groin forward and her cock slid easily into Michelle’s tight anus.

“Oh yummy!” Michelle sighed.

“Oh yummy indeed!” Candi agreed and began to slowly fuck Michelle.

Michelle wriggled her buttocks to encourage Candi to fuck her and Candi grabbed Michelle’s hips and began to fuck her with long slow strokes.

“Mmm! God your arse is nice and tight this morning,” Candi gasped.

“And your cock is nice and big. Now shut up and fuck me hard!” Michelle pushed back and ground her buttocks into Candi's groin.

The two beautiful transvestites fucked each other hard and fast. Candi came deep inside Michelle and squeezed Michelle’s cock as she too ejaculted onto Candi's throw rug.

Candi leaned over Michelle, exhausted and sweaty, her penis slowly deflating.

“Thank you darling. Just what I needed, a quickie before work. Now get off me so I can drink my tea and get to the office,” Michelle chuckled.

Candi pulled her cock out of Michelle’s anus and wiped at the trickle of semen that dribbled from her sphincter with the throw rug, which was now destined for the wash. This was pragmatic sex and Candi cleaned Michelle as best she could and then wiped herself and slipped her cock back inside her panties while Michelle pulled up her tights and knickers and straightened her skirt.

They kissed briefly, then Michelle downed her tepid tea and kissed Candi again. She fixed her lippy in the hallstand mirror before she went to the door.

“Once again, congratulations babe and thanks for the fuck. I’ve really gotta go,” she said and was out the door like a dervish.

Their uniforms were laid out before them, brand new and tailor made. The uniform consisted of a navy blue tight pencil skirt, the hem cut to rest six inches above the knee; a form-fitting jacket with red piping along the lapels and a long sleeved white cotton blouse for winter and short-sleeved for summer. Two pairs of black patent leather shoes one pair with four-inch heels and one pair with two-inch heels sat beside the two full uniforms and four blouses. Next to their uniforms was a little pillbox hat that the hosties were required to wear when not actually on the plane.

“You were all provided with twenty pounds in your joining instructions to pay for your lingerie,” Marjorie Deakin said.

“As per those instructions you should have arrived with two brassieres and panties, black, and four pairs of 15 denier pantyhose or hold-up stockings, your choice, flesh-toned or tan. Suspender belts, slips, petticoats or underskirts are not permitted. Your uniform is cut to fit your shape perfectly so other than bra and knickers, no other foundation garments are permitted.”

“Besides; at your age, you shouldn’t need them,” she frowned.

“Also you will be weighed daily whilst here at the school and weekly once you graduate; you are expected to keep your figure while you are a Goldwing girl.”

“Well; for those with any class, keeping one’s figure comes naturally. I can’t speak for anyone else though,” Porsche Berkinsdale looked pointedly at Mandy McDonald and Millicent Walker.

“Oi! ‘To the Manor Born’! You keep that snooty attitude up and you’re libel to wake up with a poo in your zoo!” Mandy shot back.

“Decorum ladies. Decorum please!” Marjorie ordered.

There were nine young women lined up along the bench including Candace Pops, Millicent Walker, Porsche Berkinsdale, Mandy McDonald and Katie Jones.

As Megan DeVille had predicted after the selections on Friday, Katie Jones had gone ‘around the buoy’ and taken the place of another candidate who had come down with measles.

“So where’s Peter Snodgrass? Why isn’t he here?” Mandy asked, her Welsh accent prominent.

“The two males are conducting their initiation elsewhere. Do you really want to try on your uniforms in front of them or have them try on theirs in front of you?” Marjorie said a little contemptuously.

“I don’t know. That could be exciting,” Mandy chortled.

Porsche turned up her nose.

“I bet when you were at school you’d show a boy your knickers for a bite of his toffee apple,” she sneered.

“Right! Enough of this! I want you ladies to take your uniforms back to your dorms and try them on. Then I want you in the classroom in thirty minutes,” Marjorie slapped the bench.

The girls had been allowed to pair up and those who didn’t have a preference were assigned their digs two to a room, or ‘cabin’ as they were referred to here at the Stew Zoo. Candi and Millie were bunking together as where Katie Jones and Mandy McDonald. Because of the uneven numbers Porsche Berkinsdale had a cabin to herself, which she of course, considered her right.

There were two male flight attendants, Peter Snodgrass and Brian Brinsmead, they of course shared the same cabin.

The nine female trainees mustered in the classroom which was furnished with two long tables with six chairs per table. There was a name plate in front of each seat, a large text book, a writing pad, pens, pencils and a glass of water.

Around the classroom were mannequins dressed as flight attendants in various poses, one with an inflated lifejacket around her neck. Part of the classroom was a mock up of a section of an aircraft cabin complete with seating and an in-flight kitchen. The walls were covered with posters, diagrams of aircraft layouts and boards with various flight safety devices affixed to them.

Candi was glad to find the classroom seating arrangement mirrored their cabin allocations and so she found herself sitting next to Millie.

“Ok ladies please be seated and we will begin,” Marjorie shouted over the din as the girls all greeted and admired each other dressed for the first time in their uniforms.

“As you can see our two male counterparts are not here; they are receiving instruction elsewhere regarding how to wear our uniform and Goldwing employee dress standards,” she started.

“So. About your uniform,” Marjorie pointed to a mannequin she had positioned in the centre of the room.

“Goldwing has been operating aircraft with stewardess embarked since the nineteen forties. You are wearing our latest uniform designed by Emilio Pucci.”

“I see most of you are wearing it correctly but here are some of the rules you must always abide by. You must always wear your jacket and four-inch high heels and hat when you are not actually in the aircraft. You can remove your hat after you have embarked and your high heels can be replaced by low heels when all passengers are seated.”

“Jackets may only be removed in-flight with the approval of the senior flight steward or purser.”

“Always carry spare hosiery, replace laddered or snagged stockings at the first opportunity.”

“Your makeup must be perfect at all time. Check it often.”

“Ok some details about your uniform. You will notice you have red piping and wings on your uniform. This indicates you are a junior flight steward. Fully trained stewards wear silver and of course senior flight stewards and pursers wear gold,” she explained.

“Even the insert in your kick pleat is red. You will notice that your skirts are very tight; hence the kick pleats to allow you freedom of movement, especially when you are kneeling or bending over.”

“You will also notice I am wearing black stockings. Ground based staff may wear black or flesh-toned hosiery, flight stewards must wear flesh-toned or tan hosiery and they must be fifteen denier or higher quality,” she clarified.

“Why?” Mandy McDonald asked.

“You’re going to be a pain in my arse aren’t you?” Marjorie blew at her fringe, exasperated.

Marjorie jumped up and sat on the edge of her desk, crossing her legs and rummaging around in her purse to find her cigarettes.

“You! Loudmouth Welsh girl, open the windows,” she nodded at Mandy.

“Ok girls, smoke em’ if you got em’ and this will be the last time you smoke in here. I’m going to tell you something while the men aren’t here that you are never to repeat; and certainly not to Megan DeVille.”

“Goldwing has been using their stewardesses like corporate geishas since they employed their first hostesses back in the forties. They are going to tell you how to stand, how to walk, how to style your hair, how to make yourself up, you can be suspended for forgetting one’s hat or being caught smoking in uniform.”

“You have been selected for your pheromonal impact girls! That’s sex appeal, Wendy,” she smiled at Wendy to let her know she wasn’t being personal.

“You will notice that this facility is basically a cross between Acapulco and a POW camp. It’s designed to keep you happy but untouched until you finish your training, hence the security, curfews and guards.”

“Make no bones about it girls; you are walking billboards for Goldwing Airlines. So long as those dumb businessmen admire you and imagine that they might get to touch your legs, arses, tits and kiss your pretty faces, they are likely to fly Goldwing.”

“So yes we are trolley dollies and flying sex objects but would I rather do anything else? No way! I have loved every minute of being a stewardess and I’d do it all over again given the opportunity.”

“So there! That’s, that. So put those fags out and start paying attention!”

The morning lesson was finished at noon and then it was time for lunch. They joined up with Peter Snodgrass and Brian Brinsmead in the café where an interesting incident occurred.

Katie Jones walked up to Peter Snodgrass and slapped him across the face.

“You know what that’s for!” she growled.

Those who hadn’t been there on Friday were bemused but were soon informed of the incident where Peter had tucked the back of Katie’s skirt into her pantyhose to ruin her final test and ensure that Porsche Berkinsdale got selected instead.

“Ok I deserved it! But what about her?” Peter pointed at Porsche.

“Her I forgive. I would have done the same to her if it guaranteed me a position with Goldwing. You on the other hand only did what you did to abet her for some sort of monetary or sexual recompense I dare say,” Katie said and Porsche blushed guiltily.

There were three choices for lunch. All of them salads. Undoubtedly Goldwing intended for them to gain no weight during training.

Candi and Millie took their lunches to a table where Peter Snodgrass, Porsche Berkinsdale, Katie Jones and Mandy McDonald were sitting. They had become a team of sorts since they had been in the same group during induction.

Millie pushed her salad around her plate.

“Fuck me this ain’t dinner; this is rabbit food. Lettuce is what food eats! Give me a good cottage pie any day,” she whined in her East London accent.

“Isn’t not ‘ain’t’ Millie; it’s ‘isn’t’. You want to pass diction and decorum don’t you?” Katie corrected her.

“So ladies did you get the brief on hosties being walking advertisements for Goldwing and keeping your seams straight etcetera,” Peter forked a pile of salad into his mouth.

“You do know all about this place don’t you?” Wendy said.

“I told you about the need to know everything about one’s adversary. Did they spin you the story about the different coloured piping on our uniforms?” he asked.

“Yep,” Candi replied.

She was quickly getting over Peter’s know it all attitude.

“You know what the pilots say about the different coloured wings the hosties wear?” he continued.

“No. But you’re going to tell us,” Candi yawned.

“When they fuck a hostie they metaphorically take her wings. They make bets on who can accumulate the most wings over a three month period. One silver wing is worth three red wings,” he grinned.

“What about the gold wings then; what are they worth,” Wendy asked.

“Well they say any hostie who’s been around long enough to earn her gold wings isn’t married for a reason. She’s either too ugly or a lezzo,” he scoffed.

The afternoon training was really boring; all about the history of Goldwing Airlines. The students really wanted to get stuck into hands-on training but there was no argument to be made that would change the Academy’s curricula.

That evening after dinner Candi and Millie settled into their cabin. The room was spacious with two double beds with bedside tables and lamps. There was a coffee table with two armchairs and a little kitchenette where they could make tea and coffee. They shared an ensuite bathroom and toilet and this was where Candi had to be careful for obvious reasons.

Candi had perfected her gaff. She used a tucking technique whereby she could contract her testes into her inguinal canal and then tuck her penis between her legs. Because she was wearing pantyhose every day she simply used a slim sanitary pad to flatten out the area, pulled on her pantyhose then pulled her panties over top. There was no unsightly bulge.

Of course this took time and privacy and she also had to shower and use the toilet too so she always ensured she was alone and locked the door to the bathroom. She didn’t mind sharing the bathroom to put on makeup and so forth. Millie was fine with this as she too was very shy and liked her privacy.

They took turns using the bathroom and changing into their night gowns. Millie wore pink nylon baby doll pyjamas and Candi wore a black satin negligee with black pantyhose to help keep her gaff in place. She told Millie that she wore tights because they helped keep her legs warm and it was in fact very cold even though they had the heating cranked up.

They drank cocoa and chatted away, getting to know each other better until they were both tired. It had been a long first day.

Candi was woken up in the early hours. Millie was shouting and crying in her sleep. Candi padded across the cold floor and climbed into bed beside Millie and cuddled her.

“Are you ok Millie?” she asked.

“Oh dear! Did I do it again?” Millie sighed.

“What do you mean?” Candi asked.

Millie turned around and snuggled up to Candi.

“You are so nice to me Candi. I think I can trust you. I want to tell you something so you understand, but please, this must be kept a secret,” Millie put her head into Candi's shoulder and Candi patted her hair.

“Sure babe,” Candi replied.

“Remember last week at the selections when I did the urine test for you and I said: ‘There’s nothing worse than preggers honey. Unless of course the fathers is…well let’s not go there,’” Millie shivered and Candi held her closer.

“Well now I’m going to go there,” Millie told her story.

Millie’s mother was sixteen when Millie was borne and despite the advice of family and friends she had kept and raised Millie. It was a hard task, not helped by the fact that her mom was a single mother who worked her way through a succession of boyfriends, some stayed for a while, most didn’t.

The current lazy parasite living in their house was a man named Randall Cunningham who Millie guessed was at least five years younger than her mother. To make it worse, this time Millie’s mother had married the slacker in a civil ceremony at the Registry Office, making him Millie’s stepfather; not that he behaved that way.

Millie was seventeen and Randall was twenty eight and Millie’s mother worked long hours so Millie was often left on her won to look after the house and as a consequence, Randall. Millie found the situation really uncomfortable and made any excuse she could not be home alone with him; but that didn’t last long.

Millie had begun to notice that Randall was taking more than a passing interest in her and her friends. Millie was in her senior year and was glad that the school had a compulsory school uniform because the family had little money for clothes. Like most of the girls at her school she had altered the hem of her skirt to show off her legs and wore her blouse unbuttoned at the top. This was done of course to attract boys her own age but it also had the adverse effect of drawing Randall’s attention to her blossoming bosom and long coltish legs.

Being seniors the girls were allowed to wear tights and of course they bent the rules and wore the sheerest pantyhose they could afford. Millie was so poor that she shoplifted packets of Pretty Polly pantyhose from the local corner shop. That is until the owner, fifty-five year old Mr Grimsby, caught her.

He knew who she was and he knew of her circumstances so he took her out the back of his shop to his little flat and gave her an ultimatum. He wouldn’t call the police, in fact she could have two pairs of nylons free every week, if she paraded around in front of him wearing her nylons and let him masturbate on her legs.

Millie was naïve but not stupid. She knew that men, especially older men, liked young girls like herself and she knew that they often had fetishes.

“So you just wanna wank on me legs? No touching or putting yer thing on me or in me?” she asked.

Mr Grimsby nodded emphatically and they struck a deal.

On Tuesday and Thursday afternoons Millie would come to the shop and duck out back where she would remove her skirt and kick off her shoes and parade up and down in front of Mr Grimsby who would take out his Johnson and give it a tug. When he was ready Millie would approach and he would ejaculate on her thighs or on her feet; whichever took his fancy on the day. She would take off the cum-sodden hose and give them to Mr Grimsby. Millie was then entitled to take a new pair of Pretty Pollies from the shop at no cost.

Senior girls were also allowed to wear makeup, the rule actually stated ‘girls in the senior years may wear cosmetics provided their makeup up is unobtrusive’. Of course all the girls abused the privilege and wore heavy makeup, especially eyeliner, mascara and lipstick.

When Millie came home Randall would be sitting in the ratty overstuffed armchair with a cigarette in his mouth pretending to read the racing form. He’d check out Millie and her friends, if she bought any home, dressed in their tiny pleated skirts, their long nylon-clad legs on display, their budding titties busting out of their school blouses and their pretty, overly made-up faces.

Millie and her friends would notice his growing erection and deliberately flash their knickers or tits at him to tease him which was fine while her friends were still there but she would have to fight off his advances when they left.

He’d chase her around the lounge room and at first they’d pretended it was a game and when he caught her he’d pull her into his lap on the old overstuffed chair.

Millie would wiggle to try to escape and her skirt would ride up and her satin knickers would rub into his crotch while her held her. Sometimes when she got out of his lap her bum would be wet and so would the front of his jeans. She knew what had happened

Then one day he held her struggling in his lap and she felt him trying to undo his fly.

“Stop Randall! Don’t! I’ll tell mom!” she cried.

“But if you’re nice to me I’ll give you a fiver. I know you can use the money to buy a nice dress or records,” he whispered frantically in her ear; his lust running high.

Millie stopped struggling and let him take out his cock. It’s not like what she was doing with Randall was any different to what she doing with Mr Grimsby really; and it sure paid better.

Randall pushed his hard cock into the folds of Millie’s vagina through the translucent fabric of her panties and pantyhose. She had to admit that it felt nice after a while and she adjusted herself so that it rubbed against that special spot that she sometimes stroked alone in bed. Randall slid his hand inside her bra and squeezed her titties and made her nipples hard.

She became wet and started to groan as he rubbed harder and she orgasmed when his cock shuddered and flooded her knickers with warm semen.

“It’s our secret,” Randall murmured in her ear.

Millie lifted herself up and spun around in the chair to face him.

“It’s our secret as long as you pay me,” she smiled.

So a couple of times a week Millie would sit in Randall’s lap and let him panty-bang her. Then one afternoon he’d been drinking and was a little more aggressive.

Randall had his cock out and was rubbing it on Millie’s pussy as usual and she was grinding away against him enjoying it as much as he was when suddenly she felt his fingers down there.

“What are you doing! Oh my god!” Millie moaned.

Randall had tore a hole in her pantyhose gusset and slid his cock inside her before she knew what was going on. All Millie knew was that it felt really nice. She was no virgin but this was the first time she’d been fucked by a man who knew what he was doing instead of some fumbling boy.

His hard cock felt so nice buried inside her and he used his fingers to stroke her clitty while he fucked her with long slow strokes.

“And that was all fine until he made me preggers,” Millie finished the story.

“And that’s what I meant when I said ‘There’s nothing worse than preggers honey. Unless of course the father is your stepfather’, which is what happened to me,” she said.

“Of course I had to have an abortion and mom soon figured out that Randall was the dad and gave him the heave ho. That’s how I came to be living at home with just me and mom, skint as a couple of paupers but now I have this job,” Millie smiled, her face only inches from Candi's.

“But sometimes I have nightmares about the abortion. It was horrible. It hurt and I was sick for long time after.”

“I’m so sorry Candi,” Millie cried.

“You have nothing to be sorry for baby,” Candi stroked Millie’s back.

Candi hugged Millie close; her nylon baby-doll pyjamas rubbing against Candi's satin negligee and pantyhose was quite stimulating and Candi was very pleased to be securely gaffed.

Candi kissed Millie on the forehead.

“I’ve got you baby; I’m right here. Sleep tight,” Candi said.

Millie snuggled up to Candi and was asleep in a few seconds

To be continued.