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The plane left right on time and as soon as they had levelled off, Liz reached into her bag for the sealed letter. There was, thankfully, no one sitting next to her because Liz was sure that the letter would be very explicit and she would die of mortification if a stranger read it. Inside the envelope, as expected, was a letter: Dearest Slave Liz, If you have followed your instructions, you are now winging your way to Chicago where your weekend adventure will continue. Here are your instructions: First, as soon as you finish reading this, go to the plane's washroom. Once in there, remove your bra, panties and stockings. Do not masturbate. You are not allowed to masturbate until I tell you. Once you've taken off your underwear, leave it in the garbage disposal in the washroom. You won't be needing them. Next, go back to your seat. When you sit down, lift your dress so that you are sitting directly on the fabric of the seat. During the rest of the flight, write a fantasy of exactly what you'd want to happen to you in our next adventure. Make sure it is the most exciting thing you've ever thought of. When you get to Chicago, walk across from the terminal into the O'Hare Hilton. It is only a couple of minutes walk. The key I gave you is for room 310. Go directly to that room. Once there, remove the rest of your clothes and hang them up neatly. You'll find a blindfold on the bed. Put it on and then lie down on the bed, face down and spread your legs wide apart. Stay like that until you get further instructions. Liz was squirming by the time she finished reading the instructions. She was sure that there was a wet spot on her dress when she got up to go to the washroom. She had to wait a moment before getting in. Inside the tiny airplane washroom, Liz had trouble trying to get undressed. Finally, she managed to get her panties and stockings off and stuffed them into the disposal chute. Liz took a long look at herself in the mirror. She knew that she was a very pretty 25 year-old. Her sandy blond hair was short and curly. Her figure was not voluptuous but she liked it. She was more like a runner, she thought. Her breasts were 35 B's and her tiny waist and trim hips showed the hours of exercise and dancing that she did on a regular basis. She took a long deep breath and left the washroom. As she moved up the aisle back to her seat, she felt very exposed. She knew that the men in their seats were looking at her and she felt like they could see right through her light cotton dress. She felt a blush hit her face as she finally sat down. She was about to do up her seat-belt when she remember the instruction about how to sit. Liz looked around her to make sure that no one could see. Everyone seemed preoccupied with whatever they were doing. As surreptitiously as possible, Liz pulled the back of her skirt up so that her now bare bottom was sitting directly on the seat. Finally, she was organized and as she looked up, she saw one of the stewardesses was looking right at her. Liz blushed a deep red as the stewardess gave her a knowing smile. Liz dropped her eyes and buckled up her seat-belt. She felt the heat of her embarrassment all over her face and knew she must look like a little girl with her hand in the cookie jar. The plane was soon descending into the crowded skies around Chicago's O'Hare airport. Liz was getting more and more excited. She read her instructions again and again wondering what would happen to her once she was naked and blindfolded, lying on the bed face down. She kept herself busy writing down the fantasy that Tom had asked her for. She wrote a sizzling fantasy about being on a tropical island and being captured by natives who stripped her and subjected her to countless sexual trials. She was soaking wet by the time the plane landed and she knew that she would leave a wet spot on the seat when she got up.

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