female dog on the plane

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

One morning in February, Lingling flagged down a taxi for my wife and me and took us to the airport.
Lingling said, "Brother Xiong, I'll take care of things at home. Don't worry, you and sister-in-law. My family will be waiting for you to come back. Maybe by then, I'll have already found a job."
I said, "There's no rush with the job. Give yourself more time and take your time looking. For the next few months, just use the money I've transferred to your account."
"But it's so embarrassing to keep using your money."
My wife said, "Lingling, you're not an outsider now. Don't be so polite with us."
"Thank you, sister-in-law."
"Still calling me sister-in-law? You and Xiong..." My wife said, looking at me.
Lingling, understanding, said, "Oh dear... Sister, you're not jealous, are you?"
My wife replied, seemingly annoyed, "If I were jealous, I'd be dying of sourness by now."
I said, "Am I more sour than you? Compared to you, I'm nothing." My wife poked my chest with her finger and said, "You brought this on yourself."
"Yes, yes... It's all my fault, you're completely right."
Lingling laughed, "You two are really funny."
I checked the time and said, "It's time, we should go in."
Lingling waved goodbye to us, "Have a safe trip, come back soon."
"Okay!" Bobby and John were sitting in the airport lobby, seemingly waiting for us. Seeing us, they warmly greeted us and diligently helped my wife with her luggage.
We got our boarding passes, and we were still in first class. I thought to myself, this club must be quite wealthy.
I had a layover in New York before heading to my next destination. The plane after the layover was much smaller than an international flight; you could see from one end to the other at a glance. There weren't many passengers, probably less than 30. I guessed it was because of our destination; we were going to an inconspicuous little town on the map.
The plane flew smoothly in the air.
I turned my head to look at the blue sky outside the window.
Bobby: "Let's play some fun games."
I turned around and said, "Tell me about them."
My wife: "What fun games are there? I want to play too."
John smiled at my wife: "Of course you have to join in; our games can't be without you."
Hearing John's tone, I couldn't help but feel a chill and blurted out, "It can't be...?" Bobby: "Just like you thought, we're going to play a 'training' game."
I exclaimed in surprise, "Here?" As I spoke, I looked at my wife. Hearing Bobby's words, she lowered her head in embarrassment, her expression a mixture of unease and anticipation.
John confirmed it and handed my wife a piece of clothing, telling her to go to the restroom to change.
My wife hesitated for half a second, then got up from her seat and went to the restroom. When she quickly returned, she had changed into that outfit—a short jacket that could almost be mistaken for lingerie. The
surrounding foreign passengers all turned their attention to her, whistling incessantly. Two daring, overweight foreign men took the opportunity to pat her buttocks as she passed them, their faces filled with lewd expressions.
When my wife reached us, a closer look revealed that her clothes were like a sheer black veil, her private parts half-hidden, almost spilling out. She covered her chest with one hand and her genitals with the other, her expression a mixture of tension and anxiety, her eyes constantly glancing to the side, as if checking if anyone was paying attention.
People gradually moved from behind us to our sides or in front, then turned to look.
Two flight attendants stood at a distance, whispering, seemingly commenting on my wife's figure.
I worriedly reminded Bobby, "This is a public place, not a club. Isn't this going too far?" Bobby chuckled nonchalantly, "Have you forgotten the purpose of our trip? Your wife is going to be a bitch. Do bitches worry about undressing in front of others?" A chill ran through me, and I swallowed back the words I was about to say.
John leisurely sipped his coffee and said to his wife, who was standing beside him, "Put your hands down and let the friends around us see your lewd body."
His wife blushed, seemingly nervous and ashamed, but she endured it, slowly moving her hands to her sides, trembling as she faced the people around her, her breasts thrusting out, her nipples protruding beneath the black veil.
His wife clenched her fists, enduring the men's lustful gazes. I, who was closest to Xiaohui, could almost hear her rapid heartbeat.
Bobby patted the chair next to him and said to his wife, "Put one leg up, and then you know what to do..." His wife was startled, as if she knew what Bobby wanted her to do next. She hesitated for a moment, then obediently spread her legs, placing one foot on the chair beside her. She then lifted the hem of her thin skirt, pressed her fingers between her exposed vulva, and began to rub her clitoris, making soft "mmm" sounds. Gradually, the expression on her face seemed to change from shame and pain to pleasure, and vaginal fluid dripped down her fingers... (The text abruptly ends here, likely due to an incomplete translation or source material.) The lewd masturbation performance seemed to ignite the wife's lust. She involuntarily raised her other hand, as if to rub her breasts, but Bobby suddenly grabbed her wrist, saying, "Okay, now go back and put your clothes on."
The wife was startled, seemingly unwilling to be abruptly interrupted, but Bobby's command felt like a royal decree to her. Reluctantly, she slowly withdrew her fingers from her vagina, her fingers covered in sticky vaginal fluid. She lowered her skirt and, amidst the jeers of the onlookers, went to the restroom to change back into her original proper suit.
Sitting in her chair, her expression seemed even more uncomfortable than when she was naked. Now, almost everyone present had witnessed her lewd masturbation performance, and their views of her had changed drastically. The men's eyes, in particular, were obscene and lewd, constantly reminding her of the wanton body beneath her respectable exterior.
As the flight attendant walked past the wife, she winked intentionally or unintentionally, her gaze lingering on her chest.
"Can we switch seats?" A few foreigners approached me, gesturing with their phones to my wife, seemingly wanting to take a picture with her.
I said in English, "Excuse me, my wife seems to be feeling a little unwell."
"She's your wife? Hehe."
One of the foreigners grinned lewdly, glancing at Bobby and John, then whispered to the person next to him, "I bet his wife is a prostitute."
The person next to him laughed, and then another foreigner said to me, "Buddy, don't be stingy, your wife seems quite generous."
I found their behavior distasteful and immediately refused, saying, "No."
"Hey, how about taking a picture with us?" Seeing that I refused, the foreigner bypassed me and directly asked about my wife.
My wife blushed and didn't speak, I didn't know if she was willing.
Bobby chimed in, "Why don't you just order her around?" A chill ran down my spine, but then I heard the foreigner say to my wife, "Bitch, come over here and take some pictures with us."
My wife shuddered, then slowly stood up, squeezed past me, and sat in the front row with the foreigners, two of them flanking her on either side.
I trembled with rage, yet for a moment I didn't know who to hate.
Should I blame my wife for her self-degradation? But isn't that what I love about her? Should I blame myself for leading her down this path? No, isn't this exactly what I wanted? In the end, I could only blame John and Bobby, but what wrong had they done? Being a dominatrix was their profession, and disciplining my wife was their duty. I glanced at my erection, shook my head with a wry smile.
Bobby said to me, "Don't be angry, don't you think this is exciting?" I didn't say anything, but deep down I didn't deny it either.
The foreigners held their phones, pointed the camera at my wife, and improperly lifted one of her beautiful legs, placing it on their thighs, keeping her two silk-stockinged legs spread apart. They then loosened her clothes, pulling her two white, tender breasts out of her dress, and pressed the shutter.
"Hey, your wife is very cooperative,"
one of the foreigners turned around and said to me mockingly.
"Look, she's enjoying it."
He rubbed my wife's breasts, pinched her nipples, and twisted them outwards.
My wife moaned and gasped softly amidst the onslaught of several men, but she didn't struggle at all. The expression on her face changed from shyness to dazedness, her remaining rationality seemingly being slowly devoured by lust.
Bobby: "Your wife is a slut at heart. Do you know why she didn't refuse?" Me: "She likes being ordered around." "
Then if you ordered her not to take pictures with those guys, do you think she would agree?" I was taken aback, but then confidently said, "Definitely. She listens to strangers, how could she not listen to me?" "How about we make a bet?" "What's the bet?" "If your wife listens to you and comes back now, our game is over. Otherwise, I'll give her even harsher discipline, how about it?" Hearing that Bobby was going to give my wife even harsher discipline, I hesitated. But if I didn't bet, wouldn't that be admitting that my wife didn't listen to me? What would become of my dignity? I stood up and said to my wife in the front seat, "Wife, come back now."
My wife seemed not to hear me. She pinched her nipple with one hand and made a victory sign with the other, as required by the foreigners, forcing a smile at the camera.
"Good, one more."
"Okay, make your expression more lewd, you bitch, stick your tongue out like you want to lick our dicks, haha."
"Yes, like that, pinch your nipples with both hands, see how hard they are, let me lick them, ooh... they taste so good, do you like it when I suck your nipples like this?" "Come on, let your husband see how lewd you are, very good, very good, put my finger in your mouth and suck it like a penis, you're just a bitch in heat." "Wife
... wife..." I stood behind my wife, I don't know how many times I called her, but my wife was completely unaware, letting the foreigners do whatever they wanted to her.
Bobby laughed heartily and said to me, "Looks like I won."
I stood there stunned, muttering, "Why?" "Wait a minute, let me explain, but... but let me finish laughing first."
Bobby laughed triumphantly for a while before slowly stopping, picking up his cup, taking a sip of his drink, and saying to me, "Dogs understand human commands because of conditioned reflexes. For example, if you train a dog to recognize its name, you'll prepare some dog food beforehand as a reward for it understanding. Over time, even if you don't prepare dog food, it will obediently run to your side when you call its name, because it recognizes..." When it hears you call, it reflexively thinks of food. In its brain, that sound means there's something delicious.
Your wife has this dog-like potential. When she sees a man's lewd expression or hears his obscene commands, her body involuntarily experiences pleasure, gradually losing its reason. So, she'll follow them against her will.
But your commands don't trigger her body's conditioned reflex, so they're ineffective.”
Me: “But can't she hear me calling her?” Bobby: “Calling her name now will only arouse her sexual desire. Immoral stimulation often leads those who intend to become…” "The bitch woman is crazy."
John: "Remember that woman we trained before? She was also a married woman. One day, she and her husband were walking in the park when a dog darted past them, followed by its owner, who shouted, 'Any, don't run!' Unexpectedly, 'Any's' name sounded similar to that married woman's name. Upon hearing this, the woman quickly took off her shoes, leaving only her stockings on the ground. Then she lifted her skirt, squatted down, spread her legs, reached out and tore a large hole in the crotch of her stockings, pulled her panties aside, and spread her vulva, letting..." The secret cave was wide open, facing everyone around. Her husband said that everyone around was stunned. By the time his wife realized what was happening, her cunt had already been exposed.
Bobby continued, "She was so ashamed she wanted to disappear, she even urinated, but she didn't close her legs until her urine dried up, forming a large puddle on the ground.
That's what bitches are like; just give them the slightest sexual signal, and they'll immediately jump up in excitement."
John: "Bobby, you seem excited."
Bobby: "Yeah, because you told me to tell my wife's story."
I asked in a trembling voice, "That woman is your wife?" Bobby nodded with a smile.
Me: "Will my wife become like her?" They didn't answer, just smiled confidently.
My wife in the front seat was completely absorbed in the company of several foreigners. Her straight-cut skirt, which had slipped down to her buttocks, was now pulled up to her waist. Under her flesh-colored pantyhose, the crotch of her thong was deeply embedded between her wet labia. The foreigners tore a large hole in the crotch of her pantyhose, pulled her panties aside, and made her masturbate in front of the camera.
The phone flash went off incessantly. My wife's fingers moved in and out of her vagina. The pleasure in her body seemed to make her forget her shame. Facing the camera, her expression was intoxicated. "Mmm..." My wife bit her red lips. Suddenly, her body trembled with excitement. Her high heels fell to the ground from her pointed toes. "Ah...mmm..." My wife moaned, and suddenly reached orgasm. Her juices gushed out, squeezing her fingers... The excited foreigners suggested that they have sex with my wife to release their pent-up desire, otherwise their penises would burst. John said that without condoms, it was unhygienic and unsafe.
Before going to the club, John and Bobby asked my wife and me to go to the hospital for a medical check-up and then show our health certificates. They also gave us a copy of their recent health reports, which is a standard procedure at the club to ensure that neither of us has contracted a serious disease.
Unable to have his way with my wife, the foreigners, in a fit of rage, grabbed her breasts and teased her wetness, churning the tender flesh inside her cavity, making her vomit with a "plop plop" sound. My wife moaned and said in English, "You...you want to fuck...just fuck my asshole..." Hearing my wife's words, the foreigners were not going to wait any longer. They flipped my wife's body over, making her lie face down on the back of the seat, her fleshy buttocks raised high. The foreigner stood on the chair, pulled down his pants, and with a thrust of his waist, his thick, long penis "squeaked" and entered my wife's anus. My wife was facing me, moaning as she opened her lips and stuck out her tongue, as if she wanted to kiss me, but another foreigner beat her to it, biting my wife's red lips and sucking her tongue. "Ugh..." My wife struggled and broke free from the foreigner, half shy and half timidly calling out to me, "Husband, save me..." But before she could finish speaking, her tongue was entangled with that foreigner's again.
My wife reached out and placed her hands on my shoulders. Her body involuntarily swayed forward. The foreigners behind her were thrusting hard, the impact of their blows on her fleshy buttocks making crisp "slap slap" sounds. My wife clung tightly to my neck, moaning in my ear, "Husband...husband...save me, he's fucking me to death...oh...so good...my asshole...my asshole feels like it's melting...ah...I'm...I'm coming...so good..." My wife's body suddenly convulsed, arching her back in spasms, her hands gripping me tightly, her nails digging into her flesh. But I seemed to feel no pain. Her burning body, like a pot of hot oil, boiled me over. My hand reached into my pants, frantically stroking my penis...The foreigners took turns on her, filling her rectum with their semen...The plane taxied smoothly in the air, the sky outside the window gradually changing from blue to golden, the sun about to set, radiating its last rays.
"Sir, would you like some juice?" A pretty young lady in a uniform politely served drinks to the guests.
The foreign guest scanned the beautiful woman from head to toe, his gaze lingering on her chest. He swallowed hard, took a small glass of juice from the tray in front of her, and said thank you.
"Sir, would you like an empty glass?" The foreign guest thought for a moment and shook his head.
"Sir, would you like some juice?" The young woman approached me.
I looked up. The beautiful woman before me was wearing a flight attendant's uniform, her two large, round, white breasts incongruously exposed outside her clothes. Her hands were tied behind her back, as if bound by rope. A plastic tray hung from her chest, with three thin chains on it. One chain was wrapped around her neck, while the other two thinner chains passed through her nipples. The weight of the tray made her tender nipples hang straight down. Beads of sweat slid down her beautiful face. Her expression seemed to be one of pain, of unbearable suffering, yet also of enjoying this strange kind of torment.
I looked at my wife, stunned.
"Sir, would you like some juice?" my wife asked again, her voice trembling slightly, as if she were struggling. She bent down slightly and handed me the tray in front of her chest, letting me choose a juice.
"Thank you."
I picked one casually.
"Sir, would you like an empty glass?" "An empty glass? No, thank you."
My wife pursed her lips, as if she wanted to say something but swallowed it back. She gave me a shy and resentful look, then slowly straightened up and staggered towards the next customer.
Bobby: "Do you like the outfit I dressed your wife in?" Me: "Too slutty." "
I just told her that because you lost a bet to me, she has to accept this punishment. Guess what your wife said?" I looked at the juice in my hand, guessing in my mind, but finally shook my head.
Bobby leaned close to my ear and said mysteriously, "She made a bet with me."
I asked curiously, "What bet?" "Did you see that empty cup on her tray?" "Yes."
"Your wife said that if she walks from the front to the back of the plane and fails to get that empty cup, she'll fill it with the semen from her anus and drink it.
Conversely, if she wins, John and I can't harass her on the plane."
Hearing this, I finally understood why my wife looked at me with shame and resentment. She was disappointed that I hadn't taken the empty cup away, but she could have confessed to me or forced it on me. Bobby didn't stop her from doing that, so why...? My wife stood at the back of the plane, the empty cup remaining on the tray in front of her. She faced the crowd and complained, "Does nobody want the empty cup?" No one answered; they just looked at my wife with some confusion.
Bobby raised his hand and said, "I want it!" His wife hesitated, taking a step back and looking at Bobby suspiciously. Then she said, "I've already lost."
Bobby laughed and said to me, "I was just testing her. Looks like she really likes being punished."
His wife confessed to everyone about her private bet with Bobby, then walked shyly and timidly to a foreign man, straddling him with one leg. She asked him to use his hand to scoop the semen from her anus into a cup. The man readily agreed, his fingers probing and stirring inside her anus, turning the sphincter muscles like a blooming chrysanthemum… The semen slowly flowed from her rectum, filling the small cup. The man placed the cup back on the tray, letting his wife lick the white fluid off his fingers.
His wife returned to her original position, and in front of everyone, lowered her head, taking the cup full of semen into her mouth with her two sexy red lips. She slowly raised her neck, pouring the semen from the cup into her mouth, letting it slide down her tongue and down her throat.
The men around her seemed both disgusted and excited.
"Is it good, you bitch?" "Doesn't it smell delicious?" "Want some fresh semen?" The wife gulped down mouthfuls of thick semen, her eyebrows furrowed, making one imagine how foul and disgusting the liquid must taste. But she insisted on drinking it all. The cup fell back onto the tray with a "clatter." Unable to control her nausea, she vomited a lot of white fluid. After pausing for a while, she forced out her tongue and licked the white fluid from the corners of her mouth back down. She lowered her head and ate the remaining semen in the cup and the semen splattered on the tray, cleaning it all up.
"Look, this bitch looks like she peed!" The wife's skirt suddenly became wet, with water stains. Urine flowed down between her legs, accumulating into a large puddle at her feet. The wife's pretty face was contorted, as if she had completely collapsed.
After it became completely dark, the plane landed at the airport.

[The End]

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