Contentedly soaring along looking at my world below me, I see the far flung horizons of a crisp clear day beautifully highlighting the woods and fields that frame and border my old city like a newly bought green welcome mat surrounding a banged up pair of worn out shoes.

The staticky voice in the headphones meant that I had received permission to make my approach to the runway. Awesome… This was it… I nosed over the stick and the Piper Tomahawk gently banked left to set up nicely for my bumpy but essentially clean landing.

Coolness. I had my solo pilots license.

Nervous and still jittery I leap out of the parked plane to lots of happy cheers and well wishes. The traditional cutting off and signing the back of my tee shirt is done though I felt half naked from it and shivered again from nervousness and a cold draft now breezing down my spine. Thankfully I’m wearing a new bra! But after all this, there it was, I was a new pilot. A new pilot on a mission to fulfill an irresistible desire long time in fruition…

I’m going to do a solo bondage adventure while flying on autopilot.

Months of careful planning are finally all set. Timing is everything and with luck I have a chance to rent just the plane I think will be perfect: A Cessna 206 Skywagon six seater. Best of all is this one already has the four rear seats removed so there will be about six plus feet of room to tie myself up in.

My fantasy is to play the part of a flight attendant or stewardess of past days who worked on a private jet and who has crossed the wrong drug dealers and is now being flown chained and blindfolded to points unknown.

Back at home the medium sized cooler is ready. Filled with ice, so as to prevent a certain smaller container of the same stuff from melting and expelling the little bell and key frozen in it. I’m ready too, and I want my stewardesses uniform to reflect the functional yet sexy look these women managed to convey. Starting with a full application of foundation I add just a light touch of blush and eyeliner finally carefully applying a sexy rose colored lipstick.

I then comb and gently pull my blonde hair back into a pretty French knot that shows off a small pair of gold hoop earrings. I’m wearing a white lace push up bra to perk up my sassy yet barely b-cups and then I button on a sexy off-white long sleeved silk blouse. Around my waist is a lined navy pleated above knee length wool skirt and matching blazer that will complete my uniform once I add a couple of friends between my legs.

Under my skirt is a small silver linked belly chain that slips through two slots cut in a leather belt and will attach around back with a brass padlock. Two medium sized plugs await my anxious bottom and I lube them both well. Sliding them gently in they’re followed by the covering leather belt that locks up everything tight. The key for these two locks will stay here, so I‘m sure to have an interesting drive home.

Next, are a good pair of business sheer pantyhose that I carefully slide on. For my shoes, I plan to wear four inch leather pumps. They’re also a matching navy color, have pretty ankle straps and also a heel of about an inch wide at the bottom. A pair of nice retro looking shoes that you really could walk around in as a stewardess. I’ll be wearing these later, not when I take off as working the rudder pedals requires a light touch. So for now I have on just a pair of low, chunk heeled shoes.

Once I’m up, in my gym bag I have ready a pair of regular style handcuffs plus a small nail to double lock them, a leather collar and two ankle cuffs plus a length of chain and a head harness with attaching ball gag and blindfold. All awaiting me as I play a poor unsuspecting stewardess.

Arriving at the nearby community airport I’m almost overcome with nerves, “can I really do this?” but the pulsing feelings below are too great to ignore. “Oh, yes I can!”

The Cessna Skywagon has plenty of range and I plan to only be incapacitated for perhaps an hour so no worries there. I want to head out over the ocean and then follow the coast at a distance. This will minimize any radio contact as that would spell big trouble when no response is given by the tightly ball gagged me.

The airport is typically busy as I do the preflight walk around and I get a few odd stares which unnerve me again. There’s a calm steady breeze but my skirt will not cooperate and is blowing and billowing around so much that I’m sure flashes of the leather belt are showing through the sheer pantyhose!

Finally I’m cleared for takeoff and pure exhilaration washes over me. Pulse racing I throttle up and pull back on the stick as the powerful Cessna climbs and then holds steady as I hurtle upwards toward my goal of five-thousand feet. Banking left I ready the autopilot once the plane is stabilized and trimmed out. There! My hands leave the stick as I gaze out over a tranquil blue ocean of dazzling beauty.

phoebe the stewardess knew she was in trouble as soon as the surly men boarded the small private jet. They immediately recognized her as the girl who had stolen a large chunk of their drug money.

“Well, well boyz look who we meet again, that thieving bitch who ripped us off!”
“Get her and hogtie her I think she’s gonna make someone back home a nice sex slave.”

As I’m overpowered and handcuffed one of the thugs hisses, “and don’t worry about being rescued any time soon, this pilot is working for me!”

I feel my heart pounding through the incessant drone of the plane and I work quickly even though my hands are shaking quite fiercely. The Cessna is occasionally bouncing along but still holding true. I hang the ice in the middle of the cargo hold roof and secure the ice chest to the side. I want the frozen key to fall right on my back. Next my attention turns to the four inch pumps. I slide in to them and fasten the buckles of the ankle straps then the leather ankle cuffs are each locked on. I work pulling on the locking head harness and also lock on it’s attaching ballgag.

Now one last look at the cockpit instrumentation, for the plane is getting a little bouncy. Ok, yes everything checks out good. I then place on the co-pilots seat the key ring with it’s one precious key to all the brass padlocks that will keep me held fast as a bound prisoner. And now I lay on my stomach in the carpeted cargo hold floor. Drawing up my nylon covered ankles I lock the cuffs both together attaching with them the length of chain that forces me to bend my knees sharply in order to lock the other end to the back of my collar.

Trembling, I lock one handcuff on careful to note the key hole location and now I work on and buckle tightly the blindfold as I’m being kidnapped and am not privy to know my destination or indeed my fate.

A few small air pockets bounce me along adding to the wild jitters fluttering through my already nervous stomach. Taking a deep breath I pull my hands behind me and line up the last cuff then run home the shackle!

Struggling about, I orgasm so quickly that the suddenness if it just takes my breath away. Moaning and violently shivering I orgasm again, my pussy just vibrating with pent up emotion and this time I’m assisted with a big roller coaster of an air pocket. I start thrashing about more, moaning into the gag as a cross current of air is creating an effect on the plane as if driving a car on top of railroad ties. Another rise followed by a precipitous dip as I orgasm again, straining against my unyielding bonds.

Still struggling, occasionally I feel an ice cold drop on my back and I worry that I’ve set the cabin temperature too low. Though by now I’m drenched in sweat I know that the cabin is getting concernedly cool. More cross current buffeting and this time I regret not using a cargo hold down strap across me as I‘m violently lifted in the air and slammed back down again."Mmmph!" This air turbulence elevator ride continues on and by now I feel sick to my stomach as I try to fight it by employing breathing exercises for I now have a real fear of throwing up while I’m tightly gagged.

Another growing problem is that I failed to take into account just how filthy the carpeted floor is. It really stinks from old dried vomit mixed with who knows what and my nose is just inches away from it. Ugh, I must breathe slowly…

Now the fire between my legs has turned to a dull throbbing ache that seems to go on and on with each new air pocket event. My push up bra isn’t helping matters any either, the foam padding in them is just pounding my poor tits to bruises each time I rise up and fall back down.

The turbulence has now really gotten to me. Every time I’m knocked around my wrists ankles and neck are momentarily yanked hard by my body falling flat to the floor. In desperation I try to hang on with my hands to the chain locked to my ankles so as to spare my abused neck any further whiplashing pain.

“Mmmr!“ stunned again as my nose strikes the floor. I am slammed around and completely helpless as I await the key to drop. The bell attached with it should warn me but the engine drone is really loud down on the floor. I haven’t felt a drop of melting ice water on me in a while and I search as best as I can while rolling onto my sides. Nothing! I find nothing! Now I fear the bell and key could be on the cockpit floor. If so then it may as well have fallen through the plane into the ocean. Me too then for without the handcuff key a quick watery doom surely awaits.

Again I’m lifted and jarringly slammed down only this time a sharp stabbing pain is coming from my right ribs as I’ve seemed to have landed on something hard. Sure enough it’s the bell with the key! Ahh, none too soon!

I unlock the handcuffs and fumble with the blindfold only to see that fortunately the cockpit settings are where they should be. I slide forward using my arms, to the co-pilots chair and reaching up for the padlock key… find nothing! Oh shit! Oh no! It must have fallen away during all the turbulence. I’m still wearing the harness and ballgag but worse of all is that I’m also still chained by both ankles to my neck collar so I can’t work the rudder pedals to fly the plane!

Frantically but oh so carefully for I dare not bump into any controls, I begin to look in places where the key might have fallen to. I have to really hurry because in about ten minutes my plane will be entering the airspace of a different control tower who will require me to make verbal communications with them. Not likely with the ballgag firmly locked on!

There! In between the bottom of the pilots door and it’s frame I see the keyring where it must have fallen after all the turbulent shaking. Luckily, since I’m lying on the floor, I can just manage to reach it with my hand. I pull at it with my fingertips and it won’t budge! It seems to be wedged in between the doorframe and door!

“Mmmmhhh.” I moan out of frustration. Now what do I do! I need to find something to pry the keyring out of the doorframe and fast! My eyes fall on the opened handcuffs. Yes! the ratchet end might just reach in and snare the keyring. Carefully I maneuver the handcuff tip in and give a firm pull on the ring. Yes, it’s free! Only now as I look at the padlock key, I see that the door’s flexing has hammered it in a kind of J shape!

I know I must unlock my ankles in order to fly the plane and so I jam the key into the lock, figuring that even if it were to snap off doing so, I still should be able to spring it. With a click the lock pops open! I’m saved! Wasting no time I jump into the pilots seat, and high heels and all, disengage the autopilot to bank right 180 degrees and reset a new heading back home.

With extreme care I gently work out the bent key and thankfully it’s still in one piece. Were it to have broken off, then upon landing, I would be a rather sorry sight leaving the plane with the head harness and ballgag locked on, not to mention my locked collar that still dangles from it the length of chain.

My adventure is ending now. I’ve managed to unlock everything, well except my two nagging intruders, and am back to looking presentable save for my poor shredded pantyhose that I removed while changing back to the lower heeled shoes.

Smiling contentedly, I see the familiar landscape features of home loom into view as the headset crackles with instructions that I immediately obey and bring this most grand adventure to an end.

I wonder how long it would take to get certified in a Lear jet?