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