The Air Stewardess' Adventures

"Ouch, that hurts!"

Underneath the bright lights, the man makes me lie facedown on the bed. Then, he pushes my waist down from behind, seemingly looking for the best spot.

I feel something odd press against me and cry out, telling him to stop.

He doesn't, though. In fact, he grabs hold of my belt.

"Your waist curves very nicely, and your legs are long. Your skin is also smooth and flawless. Aside from a minor flaw, your figure is perfect, Ms. Grant. I wouldn't have expected any less of an air stewardess," the doctor said.

I lay on the massage table, my face red. My pants were off, and my shirt was wide open. My legs trembled as they rested on the shoulders of the handsome doctor before me. His warm, coarse hands roamed my body. The sensation made me feel like I'd been set on fire.

"W-What should I do about my minor flaw, Dr. Gould?" My voice shook a little as I tried to keep my breathing even.

He smiled confidently. "Rest assured that all the women who come to me will become flawless!"

He pulled out a jar from his pocket and dug out a handful of a sticky paste-like solid. Then, he applied it on the front of my torso.

My name was Sabrina Grant. I was an air stewardess. Since childhood, my good looks and slender limbs had always been my proudest features.

Still, everyone was a perfectionist. Whenever I thought about my figure, I would look down at my flat chest, feeling insecure. I stood at five feet and nine inches and weighed 127 pounds, but I was only an A-cup in bra size.

I wasn't the only one who scorned my boobs. All the boyfriends I'd had in the past found me lacking in that aspect, too. That was why I constantly wore foam pads, never going without them, even if I got rashes in the middle of summer.

All of this was just so I could hear people say, "Sabrina's so skinny, yet she's so well-endowed. Whoever gets to date her is a lucky man."

Recently, however, the airline company I worked for had changed its uniform. I couldn't wear the foam pads anymore. So, I thought about getting a top sugery and implants—I would become an artificial beauty.

At the same time, I was a coward. There were news articles everywhere about implants turning into tumors after shifting out of place or even exploding inside people's bodies. They refused to leave my mind.

To make matters worse, I was always flying. No one knew whether anything would happen to the implants while I was in the sky. If anything were to go wrong, losing my life wouldn't be the worst of it. People would make fun of me for as long as they remembered me—I wouldn't even be able to rest in peace.

I hurriedly shook my head to rid myself of thoughts of getting a top sugery.

I sighed,