Takuya shuffled down the narrow aisle of the Indo Airways jet, his carry-on bag bumping against his slim legs. Spotting his row, Takuya hoisted his bag into the overhead compartment, his shirt riding up to reveal a pale strip of skin above his low-slung jeans. As Takuya settled into his seat on the Indo Airways jet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the stewardesses were paying him extra attention. Every time one passed by, her gaze seemed to linger on him just a bit too long. Were they staring at him? Takuya shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. Surely he was just imagining things. After all, what reason would these beautiful women have to single out an unremarkable guy like him?
The plane took off smoothly and the seatbelt sign turned off with a soft ding. Almost immediately, one of the stunning stewardess appeared at his row. Her maroon kebaya uniform hugged her curves, the intricate batik patterns drawing the eye to her narrow waist and pert breasts. She flashed him a smile. “Selamat siang, sir. Can I offer you some water or another refreshment?” Her voice was like honey, sweet and rich.
Takuya swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Ah, water would be great. Thank you.” The stewardess leaned over him to hand him a bottle, her breast brushing against his arm. Takuya felt his face flush at the contact. She was so close he could smell her perfume, a floral scent. As the stewardesses moved through the cabin, Takuya found his gaze always drawn to them. They all wore the same uniform, the fitted top and slit skirt showing off their figures. And was it just his imagination, or did they keep glancing his way? Takuya shifted in his seat, trying to ignore the stirring in his pants.
Throughout the flight, the stewardesses seemed to be paying extra attention to him. They stopped by his seat often, offering snacks and refilling his drink before he could even ask. One even brushed her fingers over his as she handed him a cup of sake, sending a shiver down his spine. Takuya knew he wasn’t much to look at – just an average Japanese salaryman with a slight build and forgettable features. So why did it feel like the stewardesses were singling him out? Was it all in his head?
He got his answer a few hours into the flight. Takuya had just reclined his seat, ready to take a nap, when he heard a commotion next to him. His eyes flew open to see the pretty stewardess who had greeted him earlier stumbling, a can of soda slipping from her tray. Takuya watched in horror as the cold liquid splashed all over his shirt and jeans. “Aduh, I’m so sorry!” the stewardess exclaimed, her hands fluttering over Takuya’s drenched clothes. “Let me get you something to change into!”
Before Takuya could protest, she was pulling him out of his seat and guiding him towards the back of the plane. Instead of the usual lavatory, she ushered him into the crew area, steering him to the staff bathroom. She pressed a bundle of clothes into his hands. “Here, put these on!” she said with an apologetic smile. “Give me your wet ones when you’re done.”
With that, she closed the door, leaving Takuya alone in the small space. He looked down at the clothes she had given him and felt his stomach drop. It was an Indo Airways stewardess uniform, complete with the maroon kebaya top and a matching skirt. Even the shoes were there, a pair of heeled sandals. Takuya’s heart raced as he stared at the uniform. There had to be some mistake. They couldn’t possibly expect him to wear this! But what choice did he have? His own clothes were soaked through.
With shaking hands, Takuya stripped off his wet garments. He hesitated before picking up the kebaya top. The silky material felt cool against his skin as he slipped it on. To his surprise, it fit his slender frame quite well, hugging his narrow shoulders and flat chest snugly. The skirt came next, the hem falling to mid-thigh. It was a bit tight around his hips, but not uncomfortably so. Takuya’s face burned as he realized how much of his legs were on display. Finally, he stepped into the sandals. They pinched his feet, the unfamiliar heels throwing off his balance. Takuya caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and barely recognized the person staring back – a slender, effeminate figure in a woman’s uniform. It was humiliating, being dressed like one of the stewardesses. But some shameful part of him found it strangely exciting too, his body warming at the sensual caress of the silky fabric against his skin.
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