Cheryl's Passion Ch. 07

"We will perform strip search on you," Gina said, "If you have no drugs on you, we will let you go. We are tough, but fair."

"So, stop complaining," Eliza snapped at her blonde captive.

"Strip search?" I exclaimed loudly, trying to sound as indignant and terror-stricken as possible.

"We should start with this one," Gina said, "She sounds like she has a guilty conscience."

Scarlett was locked in the holding cell, and then Gina and Eliza converged on me.

"Hold her still," Gina told Eliza, "I do not wish for her to squirm while I do search."

I was already handcuffed, so my movements were already fairly limited, then Eliza grabbed my arms from behind, and immobilized them with her tight grip. If they were real security guards, these tactics would definitely incapacitate a prisoner like me.

"What do you have hidden in here?" Gina asked, and then she began to unbutton the front of my shirt.

"Nothing," I protested loudly, "I'm not a drug smuggler!"

Gina unbuttoned my shirt all the way, and then untucked the shirt from the waistband of my skirt. Then she reached in, and slid her right hand underneath one of the cups of my bra, and fondled my breast, while pretending to look for hidden contraband.

"Anything?" Eliza asked her, as she took her time feeling me up.

"I don't think so," Gina replied, "But let me make certain."

Gina made a big show out of sticking her hand underneath the cups of my bra, and vigorously cupping, squeezing and feeling every inch of my breasts. The way I was handcuffed forced me to pull my shoulders back, and thus push my breasts forward, making my breasts much more vulnerable and on display for Dragostian security agents.

"No drugs," Gina said, taking her hands off my breasts and sounding disappointed, "We will have to strip-search her."

"Strip search?" I exclaimed, getting deep into character, and sounding as offended as I possibly could, "No way! I am not taking off my clothes for you people!"

"Have it your way, American girl," Eliza said coldly, her East-European accent making her sound eerily like Stefania, "If you do not take off your clothes, we simply cut them off of you."

"Cut them off?" I asked, "You're bluffing, right? You wouldn't really do that."

Then Eliza walked over to an office desk, calmly opened up a drawer, and pulled out a pair of trauma shears. Then she smugly held them up where I (and the cameramen) could get a good look at the rugged tool that could so easily cut through the clothes I was wearing.

I took a few seconds to decide which would be sexier-stripping naked, or having my clothes cut off. My opinion was that I would look more submissive if I voluntarily stripped all my clothes off, so I decided to surrender to the Dragostian security guards, and obediently follow their orders.

"I'll strip," I said with a panicked throb in my voice, "I'll cooperate! Please don't cut my clothes into pieces!!"

Gina unlocked the handcuffs from my wrists, and then Gina and Eliza watched over me, despotically while I shed my clothing.

I kept my eyes downcast as I shrugged out of my blazer and unzipped my skirt, however I could feel intense gaze of five fully-clothed people burning into me as I shed my clothes for their amusement.

I could feel the intensity of their gazes (the cameramen, the director, Gina and Eliza) burning holes into me, as I removed my skirt and laid it down on an office desk. When I was down to nothing but a pair of lace-trim thong panties, I felt like I actually and truly was an American tourist being cruelly detained against her will and being forced to strip for two cruel East-European security guards. The whole thing suddenly felt so real, my heart was thudding in my throat and I felt helpless and vulnerable. My heart was thudding in my throat until all I could hear was my blood pulsing inside my head. The fear I felt was delicious, and I completely forgot about the director and the cameramen.

I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties, and slid them down my hips, then down my thighs and past my knees. By the time my flimsy, thong panties were lying at my feet, I was just a naked American tourist, helpless and in the custody of two uniformed security guards, that had no mercy. I felt a new and delicious fear, and I surrendered to it. The soft, wet pulse in my sex told me that I wanted to be possessed as well as chastised by these women. I gave up my will entirely and told them that I would do whatever they asked of me.

"So, the American is cooperating," Gina said, coldly, "Spread your legs and bend over. We do body cavity search now."

I could see the government uniform and hear the voice of authority. I was just there to follow orders. I was just a naked, vulnerable, helpless prisoner. I would do whatever that authoritative voice told me to do. I bent over at the waist, resting most of my weight on my shoulders, my bare breasts and the palms of my hands, and then I spread my legs indecently wide, leaving my anus and pubic lips lewdly exposed.

"The American is very obedient," Eliza observed, "Maybe she does not smuggle drugs after all."

I heard the sound of a latex glove being snapped on, and then there was a presence behind me. I could feel her there, more than I could hear her.

I made an intelligent guess as to what was going to happen next and tried to prepare myself emotionally. Within seconds I felt some sort of cold, lubricating gel being smeared into the tight furrow between my buttocks and all over the tender, sensitive flesh of my anus.

I moaned and whimpered as strong, insistent fingers forced my anus to open and forced their way inside of me.

"This isn't America," that cold, authoritative voice informed me, "There is no right against unreasonable search here. In Dragostia, the government can search any and every part of your precious American female body."

I tensed up, and then I heard that same strong, authoritative voice say, "Relax your asshole. If I must use force to open you up, it will hurt your anus much more. Relax, or search will hurt more and take longer."

With a supreme effort of will, I forced the muscles of my anus to relax and allowed the Dragostian security agent to search my naked body for contraband.

She shoved her fingers inside me. She twisted her fingers around, withdrew them and then shoved them back in deeper. She spent far more time probing my rectum than was strictly necessary for a body cavity search. I think she just enjoyed watching me squirm and whimper as she violated my tight, little anal orifice.

"She is not hiding anything up her anus," the Dragostian security guard said, and finally removed her fingers from deep inside my sensitive cavity, "We will check her vagina next."

I moaned and squirmed slightly at this announcement. Then, I heard the sound of a latex glove being peeled off and a fresh one being snapped on. My pussy was defenseless and exposed, and I knew that strong, merciless fingers would be shoved into my undefended sex very, very soon.

I felt fingers on the slick, swollen lips of my labia, and with very little effort, my pubic lips were separated, and fingers were pushed inside of me. They probed my sexual core, and I panted and groaned with sexual urgency and anticipation. My legs trembled and I could feel the intensity of the orgasm inside of me building in strength. My heart pounded in my ears, and waves of sexual desire resonated throughout my entire body. I could feel the orgasm approaching, and knew it would take just a few seconds for it to overpower me. Five seconds? Six? Certainly, no more than seven seconds. I squirmed, trembled, and felt my body temperature jump up to feverish levels. I let out a long, enthusiastic sigh, and waited for the overwhelming, wanton orgasm to embrace me, and take control of my body.

And then; just a heartbeat before my body was shook with an overwhelming sexual climax; the damnable security guard removed her fingers from my sex, and left me gasping with disappointment and frustration.

"Look at what this one had hidden in her womanhood," the Dragostian security guard announced melodramatically. I had been ordered to bend over, however when she called out her announcement, I began to stand up, so I could see what she was talking about.

She was holding a small, zip-lock plastic bag. The bag was translucent, and I could see a number of pills inside the bag. I couldn't tell for certain what sort of pills those were, but I could tell for certain that those pills did not come from my pussy.

"You planted those," I accused emphatically, and then Eliza pushed my naked torso back down, flat against the cold, wooden surface of her desk.

"The Dragostian government does not plant evidence on innocent people," Eliza insisted loudly, and with a certain amount of Jingoistic pride, "However Americans have a long history of smuggling drugs into our country! What do you think my superiors will say, when I tell them you are drug smuggler?"

I bit my tongue. Obviously, in Dragostia, the deck would be stacked against foreigners like Americans. The word of a Dragostian government official would carry more weight than the word of an American tourist.

"Answer her," Gina commanded me loudly, and then slapped my bare bottom three times in rapid succession. The slaps were hard, and I could feel my bare buttocks beginning to sting.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," I said, "I think your superiors would take your word over mine! They'd think that I was lying!"

"Very good," said Gina, sounding self-satisfied.

Then, the handcuffs came out again, and once again my wrists were locked behind my back with cold, stainless-steel. When I was naked and helplessly bound, I was told that it was Scarlett's turn to be strip-searched. Scarlett was roughly removed from the holding cell, and I was thrust inside.

Scarlett squirmed and looked painfully frightened as the security guards ignored me, and focused all of their malicious attentions onto her.