On 12 January 2003, Joe Doe noted a message that had been posted 
to the old group by "Thelma" three months earlier: 

	I can't tell you how much this group excites and 
	terrifies me.  My husband and I are going on holiday 
	soon and the thought of this happening at customs 
	just makes me explode.

	Thelma 
	Scotland


		******************************

		     RESPONSE TO THELMA 

                            by 

                         Joe Doe




I was amused to read that you were concerned about how customs 
would treat you during your upcoming trip abroad.  I wanted to 
assure you that your husband has been corresponding with a number 
of people on this forum, and all of your concerns have been 
addressed. 

A lot of women are concerned that they may be hassled by 
inexperienced or obnoxious customs personnel.  Although there 
will be no female inspectors on duty the day of your trip, the 
male inspectors on duty that day know precisely how to put a 
frisky little foreigner through her paces. 

A wee bonnie lass such as yourself might be a bit intimidated when 
the three large officers order you to take off your dainty little 
shoes.  But absolute obedience is essential; always remember that 
you are on the sovereign soil of THEIR country, and therefore you 
are completely at their mercy.  As soon as you stepped into their 
country you lost all of your legal rights.  You are now nothing 
more than a tasty perk, a pretty plaything to help the bored civil 
servants pass the time.   

Watching you blush and squirm as you slowly strip out of your 
clothes will certainly be more entertaining than filling out 
tax forms or looking for fruit flies. 

Everything has been prepared for your arrival.  The guards have 
your picture, and they are waiting for you.  The metal stirrups 
are polished and awaiting your tiny feet.  A blank videotape with 
your name on it is waiting by the recorder. 

Will they make a copy of the tape for your husband?  I certainly 
hope so, since he promised to send it on.... 

The kindly officers even sent their large plastic curtain to the 
cleaners.  This curtain is used to separate the examination table 
from the rest of the terminal.   

Gosh, I hope they get it back in time! 

Are you still nervous, my dear?  Are you biting your lip, and 
squeezing your thighs together as you imagine unbuttoning your 
blouse in front of the grinning officers?  Are you worried that 
the curtain WON'T get back in time, and casual observers will 
stop to watch your search?  Are you squirming in your chair, as 
you imagine hundreds of men crowding around the large picture 
window just a few feet from the examination table? 

Perhaps a practice exercise will help calm your nerves. 

Stand in front of the kitchen table.  Make sure all of the lights 
are on...and leave the drapes open.  Yes, I know someone might look 
in.  But it is time for you to get used to the idea of an amused 
stranger ogling your charms.   

Privacy is for citizens; respectable women have rights.  You are a 
foreigner now, and, as such, you are nothing more than the spoils 
of war.... 

That's right...take off your shoes.  Now unbutton your blouse.  
Nice and slow...no sudden moves.  Fold it NEATLY and place it on 
the floor.  No, don't put it on the table.   

The examination table will be used later.... 

Watch and jewelry, too, Miss.  Hand 'em over.  You don't mind if I 
keep this diamond ring for my girlfriend, do you?  I didn't think 
you would.  You learn fast.... 

Yes, that is Mr. Johnson from across the street looking in the 
window.  Your husband called him and told him about your practice 
exercise.  Don’t worry dear, he won’t call the police.  Mr. Johnson 
has been dreaming about this moment for years. 

Now slide down those blue jeans.  I know you like to dress casually 
on travel days, but I'm pleased to see that you've put on such 
lovely underwear.  It's almost a pity you'll have to take it off.... 

Yes, you heard me: bra and panties...OFF!  Strip to the skin!  
Don't worry; we are certified tax professionals, and, as such, 
it is our legal right to examine every inch of you.   

It is a right we plan to exercise to the fullest. 

Don't fold your panties...I need to take a closer look.  What is 
that musky aroma?  Are you smuggling something up there?  And why 
are they so WET? 

I think a closer examination is warranted.  No, we don't actually 
have a warrant.  But we don't need one, either.  Not for a little 
bimbo like you. 

It's just a rubber glove, dear...no need to be frightened.  Judging 
from the rather gamy state of your underpants, I won't even need 
any lubricant.... 

That's right...up onto the table.  On all fours.  No, the other 
way, so that Mr. Johnson can see that perky little backside of 
yours.  That's a good girl. 

Now spread your legs.  It's time to show Mr. Johnson everything he 
wants to see.... 

		******************************

I hope you enjoyed our little exercise, Thelma, and it got you 
ready for your little run for the border.  You might also consider 
wearing revealing or tight clothing for the next few days, or 
sunbathing in your skimpiest bikini.  The sly glances and lecherous 
smirks will mentally prepare you for your upcoming translation into 
becoming a helpless, naked toy. 

Remember, travel broadens you, and your upcoming trip will be a 
learning experience.  Here's hoping that you have as good a time 
as the custom agents who are anxiously awaiting your arrival. 

P.S.  If you are inclined to post a bit some personal information, 
(profession, general appearance, fantasies), you may find yourself 
making your debut in a story some day.  It may take a while, but 
patience prevails.


[Unfortunately, Thelma never replied.]



Edited by C. Lakewood