Seeing the Isla of (the) Sky...

No point in changing plans now, you think. The organization doesn't know about Gabby, much less Isla, and if you're going to be incognito, why not be someone attractive? The door is still locked, and after the close call at the museum, this should be quick enough.

You pull off the red Virgin Atlantic stewardess uniform from Isla's deflated body, then stick your feet into hers. The feeling of gaining a woman's body is familiar, but still no less arousing as you pull her waist up to yours. After the fine arms are snugly put on, you grab ahold of Isla's head and its beautiful auburn mane, and pull it onto your face.

Wasting no time, you hurriedly put on Isla's uniform, fire the blue pen just to be safe Isla Clarkson, 30 years, from Aberdeen... , dress Gabrielle in her clothes, and bring her back to normal, all in time for Mary Ann Whittling to wake up.

"Oh, my head," she mutters.

"Thank God yur alright," you say in Isla's (or now your) Scottish accent. "You walked in and fainted."

"I... thought I saw a man dressed as a woman in here." Your heart pounds within your new chest.

"Damn pain medication. I'm going to lose my mind with those," she says as you walk her out, now relieved.

A group of paramedics took Gabrielle and Mary Ann to the local hospital, while you made your way to the small hotel Isla is sleeping at while the plane is fixed and refueled overnight. You get there and shut the door, thankful for the privacy.

All you can say when you get a full look at your new body is "Och Aye." Isla grew up rurally but still managed to look good enough for a job at an airline. That's no small feat, as Virgin Atlantic was recently voted in a poll to have the best looking stewardesses. You run your hands through your ravishing red hair and grin sensually at the mirror. "Where shall we goo tonight, lassie?" you say in a sexy Scotswoman's voice.

(Author: OneBrokeSailor)