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From: jimmy@jimmy-hat.com (Jimmy Hat)
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Subject: {ASSM} How to Avoid Being Blown (MF oral nc strip-search)  
Date: Sat, 30 Sep 2000 18:10:13 -0400
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This work contains graphic depictions of sex acts.
Please do not continue if this makes you uncomfortable,
or violates laws in your part of the world.

This story is Copyright 2000 by Jimmy Hat (jimmy@jimmy-hat.com)
----------------------------------------------------------------------

HOW TO AVOID BEING BLOWN
Copyright 2000 by Jimmy Hat


"Strip!" barked the guard. 

"All right! I heard you the first time," Heather Stanton replied.
As an FBI agent, Stanton made countless trips to prisons around
the United States, but she was accustomed to more preferential
treatment under the aegis of her gold badge. Today she signed
into the prison visitors' area as Shelby Taylor, and she had a
role to play. 

Stanton normally wore business suits and subtle cosmetics. In the
guise of Shelby Taylor, she wore platform shoes, bell bottom
dungarees, a baby doll t-shirt, bright lipstick, heavy dark liner
around her blue eyes, and reddish-brown fingernail polish, a
color named "Morrocco" that deserved a less exotic label like
"Mud". Shelby Taylor would have been the finest example of
trailer trash womanhood imaginable, if not for the corrections
officer in the room with her. 

The CO's dark hair was combed down flat against her head. A
severe part ran down the middle exposing a strip of her white
scalp like the center line of a divided highway. Her jowls
sagged, but looked almost high and firm compared to her double
chin. She had the body of someone who had super-sized her
McDonald's lunch a hundred times in the past year, and a vacant
look in her eyes that indicated despite her familiarity with the
Big Mac, she still had no idea what the sum of $3.79 and 39 cents
was. The strip of bakelite pinned to her uniform had the name
"Drury" etched into it. 

Stanton made a mental note of Drury's name, and started to take
off her shoes. She looked away from CO Drury as she unlaced and
kicked off the platforms, and then wiggled out of her blue jeans.
Drury glanced at Stanton's legs, and her eyes narrowed. Normally
Drury liked to rush this along and make things as unpleasant as
possible on visitors, as she had when she called this one out of
line and into the room for a spot search, yelling orders in a
clipped voice. Now, though, she thought it might be nice to slow
this sweet thing down, get her to take her time getting naked. 

"Wait a second," Drury said. She pointed to a shiny band around
Stanton's ankle. "What's that?" 

"Ankle bracelet," Stanton replied. 

"I know that, missy!" Drury snapped. "What's hangin' from it?
Some kinda contraband?" There was no 'r' or 'd' in the way Drury
pronounced the word, and somehow an extra syllable slipped in. It
sounded like 'conchabayin'. 

Stanton mimicked the pronunciation. "It's not 'conchabayin'. It's
just a charm." 

"Let me see it," Drury said, licking her lips. "Put your foot up
on that chair there." 

As Stanton obeyed, Drury moved closer, took hold of Stanton's
ankle with one pudgy hand, and examined the heart-shaped charm.
Her face stood inches away from Stanton's bare knee. Drury looked
up from the cheap piece of jewelry. White cotton panties covered
Stanton's crotch, and Drury looked them over far longer than she
had examined the charm. She knew she was going to see it all soon
enough, and the sight of the flimsy underwear and the contours of
the mound underneath only increased her anticipation. 

"I guess that's okay," Drury relented, not bothering to look back
at the anklet. 

A cold shiver went through Stanton's body. She took her leg off
the chair and pulled her shirt over her head. The dark hair that
hung in her face obscured her vision, and Stanton was glad that
she didn't have to see Drury's reaction. She stood still. 

"What's your name again, missy?" 

"Shelby Taylor," Stanton answered. Who the hell came up with that
name?, Stanton wondered. But she was relieved to concentrate on
her figurative cover rather than her uncovered figure. 

"And where'r you from, Shelby?" 

"Springfield," Stanton answered. 

"Well, Shelby, I don't know what they teach you in Springfield,
but when I say 'Strip', I mean it down to the bone. Now keep on
goin'." 

Stanton quickly unhooked her bra and rolled her panties off her
legs. The skin itched where the underwire of her bra had pressed
against the soft flesh of her breasts, but she didn't want to
draw any more attention to herself by scratching them. The
irritation simply added to her discomfort. "Sit down." Drury said
tonelessly. 

Thankful that the seat was wooden and not metal, Stanton sat
down. It was still cold, however, and heat seemed to rush out of
her body through her back and backside. Drury watched as
Stanton's nipples hardened in a purely involuntary response.
Drury approached the chair and took Stanton's head in her hands.
Carefully the CO ran her heavy hands through Stanton's long dark
hair. She pulled out a hairpin and continued the search, looking
down at the brunette's bare shoulders, her breasts, and the
nipples that stood out proudly. Drury wanted to stop for a moment
and feel the hard curve of her shoulders, and the soft curve of
her breasts. 

"Stand up," Drury ordered. "Grab the table." 

Clenching her teeth with anger, Stanton followed the CO's
instructions. 

She bent slightly at the waist and rested her weight against the
edge of the table. Staring at a chip in the paint on the wall,
Stanton braced herself for the body cavity search. Momentarily,
she was jarred from her quiet resolve by the snap of latex gloves
being put on behind her. Wrapped in latex, Drury's plump fingers
looked like small sausages. She squeezed a dollop of lubricating
jelly on to her right hand and smeared it around her fingers. She
took a moment to admire the smooth firm haunches in front of her,
the muscular back and the furrow that reached to her waist and
ended at the tailbone, flanked on either side by a little dimple.
Drury could just see a tuft of dark hair at the juncture between
her legs. 

"Spread 'em," Drury ordered unceremoniously. Stanton moved her
feet apart as far as she could and held her breath. She felt the
cool, slippery gloved hand between her legs, spreading,
stretching, poking. Despite the lube, some of Stanton's pubic
hairs were caught in the glove. She winced once, slightly. 

"If you shaved that it wouldn't hurt," Drury said knowingly. In
one rough thrust there were two fingers inside her, probing the
smooth walls of her sex. Stanton allowed herself to exhale when
Drury removed them, seemingly hours later. 

"Bend over more," Drury commanded. Again Stanton complied. Drury
spread some jelly around the winking hole of Stanton's ass and
then worked a gloved finger inside. She used her middle finger,
and placed the butt of her palm against one of the smooth strong
cheeks of Stanton's ass. Awkward as that was, it left Drury an
open view of the woman's pussy. flushed red and wet with lube.
Drury pushed in until her knuckles rested along the crack of
Stanton's ass. She heard the naked woman gasp for air. The CO
smiled and took her time removing her chubby finger. Drury
stepped back and took a moment to admire the fine form in front
of her before ripping her gloves off. 

"OK, get dressed," Drury said. Then she mumbled to herself, "Did
that little girl a favor. Now her con boyfriend can take her any
way he wants her." 

Stanton rushed back into her clothes. She avoided looking at
Drury and followed her out of the room. Outside the door stood a
tall male CO with a toothpick jutting from between his lips. He
wore sunglasses, tinted dark brown, but tilted his head up and
down to let her know he was looking her over. He shifted the
toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other and smiled. 

"Oh, Jesus," Stanton thought, "He saw that, didn't he? Through a
window? Maybe even a camera. They probably have that on tape.
They'll be taking bribes from convicts to show it on television."
That kind of corruption was the reason she was there. The Bureau
had an agent inside the prison to investigate allegations from
former inmates. The undercover operation was running smoothly
until one inmate made a big stink one night. He had noticed that
although the agent wrote and received plenty of letters, he never
had a visitor. Enter Shelby Taylor, as portrayed by Special Agent
Stanton. 

The tall CO stepped out of Stanton's way when the magnetic lock
released. A loud buzz sounded, a green light flashed, and the
barred door to the visitors' area slid open. Stanton was one of
the last in, having been delayed by the strip search. Drury
hadn't offered her anything to clean herself with, and as she
walked through the tables, she felt the lube squish between her
legs. Almost as cloying, she felt the eyes of guards and
prisoners on her as she looked for the agent. 

Stanton was given his assumed name, Leo Calderone. Without
knowing his real name, it was impossible to slip up. She had seen
his picture, and he had the dark Latin features to match his
surname. Stanton scanned the room, looking for him. She spotted
one inmate with a woman's head bobbing up and down between his
legs, and another with a blonde straddling his lap, a short skirt
hiding their copulation from view. What a welcome, Stanton
thought. She spotted Leo. "Leo, honey!" 

"Oh, Shelby, you look good, baby!" 

The two embraced. Stanton closed her eyes as they kissed, and
felt his hands reach for her ass and give her a playful slap. Had
to play the part. At least Calderone was easier on the eyes than
Drury. 

Her brief was thorough, her job minimal. All she was supposed to
do was get inside and give Shelby Taylor a face. She was to hold
hands with Leo, complain about her boss and her job at his little
accounting firm, and ask when Leo was going to get out of jail.
It was a simple performance, pure fluff, but Stanton decided at
that moment to ad lib a bit. She started to cry. Agent Stanton
buried her head in Leo's chest and sobbed, heaving her chest as
if she'd lost control over her ability to breathe properly. 

"Hey, hey, Shelby, what's wrong?" 

"Oh, Leo," she said between sobs, "When are you getting out of
here?" 

"Soon, baby, soon," he answered, wrapping his arms around her
shoulders and holding her tight. Stanton returned the embrace,
and buried her head in his chest for a moment. When she looked up
again, she saw a guard walking by escorting a prisoner through
the visitors' area. It was time. 

"Oh, Leo, I don't think I can do this again, baby. I can't come
back here again!" 

"Shelby, don't get upset," he said. "I'll be out soon. You don't
have to come again." 

That was all Stanton needed to hear. She hoped the guard and the
inmate also heard the exchange. Shelby had a face, and now a damn
good reason not to have to show it at this prison again. Stanton
was satisfied with her performance, glad that she was through
being humiliated, and looking forward to coasting through the
rest of the visit. The pair of agents quickly moved through the
litany of Shelby's frustrations at work. Stanton rattled off her
complaints and Calderone dutifully nodded his head and
sympathized. Calderone mentioned possible dates of release, and
it was Stanton's turn to nod in ascension. After that she figured
it was high time to leave the place behind. It was at that moment
that she saw Curly Williams. 

The nightmare of any agent working undercover is to be recognized
for what they really are, to be 'blown' as the saying goes. As a
Special Agent, Heather Stanton had investigated and arrested
Curly Williams for running a prostitution ring out of a set of
dry cleaners and tailors. The press labeled Curly the
'while-u-wait' pimp and jokes about 'sew-jobs' filled the late
night talk show monologues. Having your cover blown was no
laughing matter, though, even if it was the while-u-wait pimp who
did it. There was nowhere to run. Curly might see her, he might
not, but he was certainly headed her way. Stanton's mind raced to
find a means of disguise. She hadn't realized she'd stopped
speaking in mid-sentence. 

"What's the matter, Shelby?" 

Blown. It was the only word that came to mind. 

"Shelby?" 

Blown. 

Stanton snapped back to her surroundings. Wondering where Curly
was, she took a quick look around. To the left was a woman
resting on a prisoner's lap. They must have finished. She
wondered if the other one was done giving head to her... 

"C'mon, Shelby," Leo pleaded, "What is it?" 

No sooner had he finished asking the question than Stanton's head
was buried in his lap, and her fingers were working the button
fly of his prison coveralls. The undercover agent was so
surprised when she took hold of his floppy dick that it actually
shrunk back a bit. "What the...?" 

The man gasped when Stanton took his limp organ in her mouth and
swirled her tongue around its soft crown. Whatever surprise and
nervousness he felt dwindled rapidly, and in equal measure his
cock swelled in size. "Oh, fuck!" he stammered. This was the
first time he'd ever met the brunette agent and her pretty blue
eyes; now she was kneeling between his legs and sucking on
his prick as if a snake had bit him and she needed to extract the
venom. 

"Damn, Shelby," he said in utter amazement. This agent sure as
hell knew how to get into the act. Quite a finale considering a
few minutes ago she was signaling that under no circumstances was
she making a repeat performance. His cock had stiffened and
lengthened, but she continued to work over its full length, with
her hands resting on his thighs, and her dark hair falling near
his navel. Who was this woman? He wanted to get another look at
her. As he tried to brush her hair out of the way, one of her
hands leapt off his lap and slapped him sharply on the wrist. For
the first time since she'd suddenly dropped to her knees, Stanton
released her mouth from his shaft. "Leave the hair alone," she
said quickly, before going back to work. 

"Whatever you say, baby." He was as confused as when she started,
but aroused enough not to care anymore. Rock hard, his cock
pulsed in her mouth. Stanton thought Curly had to have passed by
now. She pulled off again, taking the wet sticky shaft in her
hand. "Can you see Curly?" 

"Curly?" he said in surprise. It just so happened the man was
walking by at the time. 

"Yeah, what you want, man?" Curly asked loudly. 

Stanton's heart leaped into her throat. It was a good thing that
she no longer had a cock there; the collision could have been
rough. She had to get rid of Curly. She squeezed Leo's cock.
"Ahhh," he exclaimed. "Nothing, man. I'm busy." 

"Shit, I can see that. Izzat yo woman?" 

"Yeah," Leo answered. 

"Well, when she's done there, send her my way." 

"Fuck you, Curly." 

Curly laughed and walked away. "See ya back at the yard, man." 

Now Leo could guess why the agent had buried her face in his lap.
That was a pretty smart move. He was about to tell her that the
coast was clear when he remembered that he was sporting a monster
hard-on, there was a blue-eyed girl with her head between his
legs, and he was in prison, undercover or not. "Keep going," he
whispered. "Curly's a few feet behind you." 

She worked slowly and methodically. Leo helped by guiding her
head with his hand, but he was careful to let her hair cover her
face. Her mouth was warm and wet sliding along his rigid prick.
"Keep going," he said. "That's so good." 

Stanton heard the last bit of what he said, and it was her turn
to realize what was going on. But she was a bit too late. Leo
erupted in orgasm and two months of frustration burst from his
balls and into the roof of her mouth. If she pulled off at that
point, she risked a shot in her face or hair, so Stanton let him
blast away. Two, three, four warm streams filled her cheeks. When
the spasms stopped, Stanton opened her mouth. The goo trickled
along his shaft and down onto his balls in his coveralls. Most of
it, anyway. She wanted to smack him, but instead she kept to
their cover. She actually smiled. 

"You're the best, Shelby." he said, and meant it. 

"I can't wait until I get you outside this prison," she replied.
She meant it, too. 

Stanton let him peck her on the cheek, and then she turned to
leave. Naturally, Curly was nowhere to be seen. As she walked,
she felt the lube again between her legs. She wanted a shower.
She wanted a breath mint. She needed to get the hell out of
there. What she got was a guard stopping her on the way out. 

"That was a helluva show you put on there." Drury said to her. 

"Fuck off," Stanton replied. 

"Hold on there, bitch," the guard said, catching her by the arm. 

Instinctively, Stanton thought of flipping the CO over her hip.
Instead she stopped and stayed in character. Drury went on
talking. "We have rules here, and that little indecent act is
against 'em." Stanton met her with a blank stare. "The fine is
fifty bucks," she said. 

A bribe, Stanton thought. On top of all that, she expects a
bribe. Stanton pulled three twenties from her jeans and thrust
them at the CO. "Happy now?" 

"Not really. But now that you know the rules I guess you can go." 

Not really happy, Stanton thought. She wasn't the only one. She
made her way back to the beat-up CRX the bureau procured for
Shelby Taylor and headed back to the field office. During the
debriefing, she simply mentioned a 'distraction' that she
arranged with Leo when she saw Curly. She filled out the bureau's
copious forms, and a local field agent gave her a lift to her
hotel. After a long hot shower, she met her partner Maytag at the
hotel bar. 

"How did it go?" he asked. 

"I don't want to talk about it." Stanton took a long swallow from
her gin and tonic, then looked over at her partner. "Hey," she
said. "What happened to that orange tie you had on this morning?" 

"I don't want to talk about it," Maytag answered. It was a story
for another time. They finished their drinks in silence. 

END 
----------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed that, and I'd love to hear your comments.
There is an anonymous e-mail form (and more stories) at 
http://www.jimmy-hat.com , or you can mail me 
directly at jimmy@jimmy-hat.com

Anyone wishing to charge fees for access to this material, 
through any media or publication, must receive the written
permission of Jimmy Hat.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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