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From: clarissa@submissive.co.uk (Clarissa Bainbridge)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 22 Aug 2001 01:18:07 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Nothing To Declare
Date: Thu, 23 Aug 2001 08:10:03 -0400
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(C) 2001 Clarissa Bainbridge.  All Rights Reserved.

Permission is granted to reprint this piece by non-commercial sites
provided that the work is not edited or altered in any way.

Disclaimer

The following is a work of adult fantasy and is not to be read by
anyone under the age of 18.  It contains many acts that many people
might find offensive.  Do not continue to read if sexually explicit
fantasy offends you.

NOTHING TO DECLARE by Clarissa Bainbridge

(Contents:  Humiliation, BDSM, NC, Group, Watersports)

I knew the risks, so I know that I only have myself to blame.
	
Of course, I was young back then, just out of my teens, and so very,
very na ve.  I was straight out of nursing college then and up to my
eyes in debt. The offer seemed to be a good one, just spend two years
working at one of the hi-tech hospitals in this small Arabian country
(I still can't bring myself to name it, not after what happened) and
I'd make enough to pay of all my debts and have enough left over to
set myself up nicely.
	
For the first eighteen months, all was fine.  I can't say that it was
the greatest time of my life, after all, women aren't treated too
great over there; the guys used to treat us all like dirt.  The
doctors were all a lot of fun though, all of them Americans, Brits,
Canadians or Aussies, and I got on well with the other nurses too.  We
had some pretty wild times looking back on it, but I'll tell you about
them some other time.
	
Of course, I knew that it was illegal to drink or even possess alcohol
in the country; they told me that before I went out there.  When I got
there though, I found out that everyone drank like fish.  It seems
like every Saturday and Sunday morning most of us were busier nursing
hangovers instead of the patients!  Every time someone went out of the
country they brought some more booze back in with them and no one ever
got caught with it.
	
Except for me.
	
Four of us went out of to Europe along with one of the Prince's
elderly uncles who was suffering badly after a fall.  Just before we
got on the plane to fly back, we all headed into the airport liquor
store and stashed up with booze, hiding it in our medical bags, the
same as we always did.  They never bothered to check us when we were
accompanying patients.
	
I guess that my mistake was to fall behind the others.  The airline
had lost one of my suitcases and so I told the others to go on ahead
as I couldn't risk annoying the Prince's uncle.  Anyway, they found it
and so I hurried through customs as I had done a dozen or more times
before.
	
This time though, I got stopped.
	
A tall customs officer wearing a khaki-colored military style uniform
and a white linen headdress stopped me as I was going through:
	
"Please madam," he said in heavily accented English.  "I need to check
your bags."
	
I started to object, but the more I protested, the more he insisted. 
I knew that I had no choice in the end.  I was already trembling with
fear as he opened up the first of my bags and thought I was going to
out when he pulled out the first of the three bottles of whisky that
were hidden inside.  He looked me in the eye as he did so.  As he saw
the look of terror reflected back from my green eyes, I thought I
could just detect a grin appearing on his lips.
	
"You must come with me," he said, placing a firm hand on my shoulder
and starting to lead me through a door to the side.
	
"I-I can explain everything," I stammered, but he did not respond.
	
He led me into a small tiled room, brilliantly lit by a row of
fluorescent lights in the ceiling.  One wall of the room was covered
by a mirror.  The only objects in the room were a small table and two
chairs.
	
The customs officer locked the door behind him and then sat in one of
the chairs, though did not offer me the other.  He sat staring at me
for a long while, allowing his gaze to rove up my long black-stocking
clad legs, over my narrow waist and lingered for a time over my pert
tits that pushed out the blue and white checkered fabric of my nurse's
uniform and then looked me in the face, starkly visible as my long
blonde hair was bunched up under my small white nurse's cap.  His
predatory gaze made me feel all the more uncomfortable and terrified
as to what was going to happen next.  Still my worst fears did not
prepare me for what was to come next.
	
"Take off your dress," he barked authoritatively.
	
I just stared at him for a moment, my well-tanned cheeks instantly
becoming drained of all their color.

"You can't be serious," I whimpered.  "Surely you must have female
officers to do searches?"
	
The customs officer just sneered.  "Only western whores work like
men," he replied contemptuously.
"All good women are at home caring for their menfolk."
	
"Now are you going to take off your dress or do I have to tear it from
you?"
	
I stared at him in shock for a moment longer, my eyes starting to
moisten.  His countenance made it obvious that he was not going to
relent, however.  Nervously, I unbuttoned the dress and let it fall to
the floor, stepping out of it and placing it on the table before me. 
His stern expression softened into a slight grin as he feasted his
eyes on my body, clad now in only my shoes, stockings and white silk
underwear, the bra struggling to contain my large breasts, as always.
	
Once he had himself an eyeful, he slowly moved forwards and, from the
reflection in the mirror, I saw him move behind me.  As he spoke, I
could feel his hot breath on my naked shoulders.
	
"That you are guilty of illegally importing alcohol into the country
is not in doubt," he said, lowering his voice to a whisper.  "For this
you shall be punished.  I must check that you are not also trying to
smuggle drugs for if you are, the punishment is death."
	
He ran a finger along the arch of my shoulders.  "And it would be a
shame to see one as pretty as you executed."
	
I closed my eyes, trying to stop myself from crying through pure
terror, but the teardrops were starting to flood from my eyes now. 
The first I knew of the fact that he had pulled the white cap from my
hair was when I felt my long blonde hair falling loose, my locks
tumbling over my shoulders.  I saw him look inside the cap before
tossing it on the table on top of my discarded dress.
	
Then I shuddered as I felt his hands on my shoulders once more.  I
felt him reaching down and let out a frightened whimper as they
disappeared inside the cups of my bra.  I let out a weak cry as I felt
his fingers gripping my nipples tightly before tugging them upwards,
pulling my heavy titties free of their holders.  He tugged on the
nipples harder, twisting them as he did so until I screwed up my face
with the pain, begging him to be gentle.  He stopped the tit-torture
as I did so and looked inside the cups of the bra beneath my twin
fleshy globes.
	
"Nothing in there either," he said.  "Not many more hiding places
now."
	
Through my tears I heard him walk before me once more and saw him
sitting back in the chair.  He was beaming to himself with delight
now, the bastard.
	
"Your panties," he said.  "Drop them."
	
"No, no, please," I begged.  "Not that, anything but that."
	
He resumed the stern expression.  "You have something to hide in
there?  Refusing to agree to the search will mean your guilt, and I
have already told you of the penalties for drug smuggling."
	
Sobbing openly now, the tears rolling onto my tits and wetting the raw
nipples, I realized that, once again I had no choice.  Closing my eyes
once more, I brought my trembling fingers down to the waistband of my
panties and slipped them down over my thighs, leaving them around my
knees.  I stood there for a while with my eyes closed, hoping that it
would somehow lessen the shame.  But it didn't.
	
I heard nothing from the customs officer though and so I was forced to
open them.  I saw him just sitting there, continuing to feast his eyes
upon my naked form.  He was rubbing a large bulge that tented out his
khaki pants.  I also saw the reflection of myself in the mirror as he
did so, which made the shame all the worse.  I saw myself, with my
mascara running down my cheeks, my tits hanging over my bra and my
pussy so openly on display to the man before me.  Never before had I
known such humiliation.
	
He got up and came round behind me once more.  "Lay down on the
table," he ordered.
	
I did as I was bid, only able to shuffle forwards as the bunched
panties around my knees restricted my steps.  I lay across the table,
gripping the far side of it with my hands and feeling the coolness of
the wooden table as my heavy titties took the weight. He made me wait
in this position for a moment, making the anticipation of what was to
come next all the worse.
	
I felt his fingers running along my inner thighs. "Spread them," he
said.
	
I opened my legs as wide as I could, stretching the panties around my
knees taut in order to comply.  I looked up at the reflection in the
mirror once more and saw him standing above me.  He was licking his
fingers.
	
I closed my eyes once more to try and blank out what was happening but
opened them sharply as I felt his fingers separating the twin globes
of my buttocks and then let out a gasp as I felt a fingertip nudging
against the puckered entrance to my tight pink asshole.  I yelped out
with both pain and shock as I felt him applying pressure to his
finger, sending the digit sliding inside my untouched back socket.  I
clenched my eyes shut tight as he pushed his finger all the way inside
me, wiggling it around before withdrawing. I almost sighed with relief
that the experience was over, but I relaxed too soon as I felt two
fingertips probing my ass now.  I cried out with the pain as he
grunted and pushed both fingers deep inside me.  It felt like he was
opening me up and I begged him to stop. My cries only led to his
laughing though and he tried to insert a third.  Mercifully he had to
give up his attempt though as I was simply too tight for all three of
them to fit.
	
"No, nothing hidden up there," he said.  "Only one place left to look
now."
	
He withdrew his fingers and pulled me up off the table by the hair. 
He tugged down my panties and tossed them aside.  "Now get up on the
table and open those long legs as wide as you can."
	
All my will to resist had long since gone now and so I meekly
submitted, climbing on to the table and spreading my legs wide.  As
soon as I did so, I realized that I should have approached the table
from the opposite side as I could still see my reflection in the
mirror, and the sight of me lying there with my legs wide open,
exposing my cunt so brazenly was almost too much to bear.
	
He came round before me and ran a finger through my tawny bush of
pussy hair and then ran it along my slit, flicking my clit as he did
so, sending a spasm right through my body.  To my horror, I saw that
his finger was moist.
	
He grinned as he wafted his finger before his nose and then licked it
clean of my juices.  "Everything I've heard about you western whores
is true," he sneered.  "You all love this."
	
I couldn't look him in the eye.  I hated every moment of this
experience, yet, I still don't know why, but I was finding the
humiliation and the feeling of being totally under this man's power to
be strangely arousing.
	
Before I had chance to consider my position though, he had pulled out
a drawer in the desk and produced a shining silvery object.  It took
my confused brain a couple of moments to realize what it was.  By the
time I realized that it was a speculum, he was already inserting the
implement between my pussy-lips.  The feel of the cold steel against
my hot cunt sent a jolt running through me.  I then gripped the side
of the table as I felt him sliding the implement deeper and deeper
inside my hole until I felt the top of it against my engorged clit,
indicating that he had it in as far as it would go.
	
I then let out a low moan as he slowly opened up my throbbing lips
with the implement.  The speculum went wider and wider, pulling my
lips further than I thought it was possible for them to go and I
started to shriek with the pain.  Just as I thought that I was going
to pass out with the pain, he stopped and knelt down before me staring
into the depths of my cunt.  He got up, but left the implement in
there long enough that I couldn't help but see it inside me in the
reflection from the mirror.  As I saw my gaping hole exposed so, I
just burst out crying all over again.
	
I don't know whether he knew that he had pushed me too far now or not,
but he quickly removed the implement.  "My investigation is now
complete," he said calmly.  "No drugs, so you will only be flogged."
	
"Flogged?" I whimpered, but he did not react.
	
He took my panties from the floor and brought them up to his nose,
inhaling my scent deeply before tossing them at me.  "Put these back
on now, slut," he said.
	
I didn't need to be ordered twice and quickly got dressed again, so
incredibly thankful to cover my nakedness once more.  As I did so, the
customs officer left the room, locking the door behind me.  As soon as
he left me and I was dressed once more, I just burst out crying once
more.
	
It must have been an hour or so before I heard the door being unlocked
and the customs officer gestured me to come with him.
	
"Where are we going?" I asked as he took my wrists and pulled them
behind me.
	
I felt coldness and heard the telltale click of handcuffs being
applied.  "You'll find out soon enough," was all he replied with.
	
He led me down a couple of corridors to a door, in front of which two
more men dressed in similar uniforms were waiting.  The door opened
and I saw that it led outside.  There was a police van right opposite
the door and the three men quickly pulled me inside and then closed
the doors behind me.  Immediately afterwards, the engine started and I
was jolted to the back of the van as it sped off.  The journey lasted
for half an hour until the van stopped and the doors opened.  Some
different men dragged me out of the van and pulled me to my feet. 
 From the high walls topped by barbed wire that was visible on all
sides, it was obvious that I was in some sort of prison.
	
I was led inside the main building by the men and led down more dimly
lit corridors until I was brought before the open door to a cell. 
Without saying a word, the guards hauled me inside and removed the
handcuffs.  Before I had chance to massage my tortured wrists,
however, my arms were pulled upwards and my wrists re-fastened into
some manacles hanging from high up the wall.  The cold steel bit into
my hands and I realized that the only way in which I could stop the
pain from becoming agonizing was to stand upon tiptoe.
	
The two guards paused for a moment to look at my predicament,
exchanged a few comments to one another in Arabic and then left me
alone, slamming the door behind me and locking it shut.
	
There was nothing that I could do except hang there for a long while,
shifting my weight between my wrists and my calves to stop them
hurting too much.  I'd been hanging there for a couple of hours or so
when I realized that I needed to pee really badly.  I called out to
the guards to see if they would let me down for a moment, but there
was no reply from outside the cell.  The pressure of my bladder got
harder and harder to bear and I started squirming, dancing from foot
to foot and rubbing my thighs together in an attempt to fight off the
sensations, all the time hollering for someone to let me out.  Before
anyone did though, I realized that I couldn't hold it in any longer
and felt a warm trickle leaking from my cunt.  As I felt the gusset of
my panties getting wet, I knew that there was nothing more that I
could do apart from close my eyes in humiliation as the trickle turned
into a torrent of piss that flowed out of me.  It quickly soaked
through my panties and I could feel it seeping through my dress.  All
too soon, my thin panties could hold the stream no longer and the
stream ran down the inside of my stocking clad thigh before forming a
large yellow puddle beneath me.  It seemed to take forever before the
torrent stopped, leaving me feeling totally soaked by my own fluids.
	
This was the last straw for me and I just cried and cried until I
could cry no more.
	
I guess that I must have cried myself to sleep, because the next thing
I knew it was morning and I was awoken by the sound of the door being
opened.  Two prison guards came in and stood before me.  As I feared,
the first thing that they noticed was the large puddle of piss at my
feet and my sopping wet dress.  They felt no compassion for me, only
more contempt:

"Dirty western pig," one of them spat at me,  "wallowing in your own
filth like an animal."

"She can't be flogged in the state she's in," the first said to the
second.  "We'll have to strip her."

Before I could even try and stop them, they were upon me and I heard
the seams of my cotton dress being torn apart as they ripped it off
me, tossing it on the floor.  Next to come off was my bra, which
joined my torn dress on the floor.  One of them then took hold of my
still damp panties and pulled them down my legs.  He held them between
thumb and forefinger, a look of distaste as he did so.

He gave me a cruel look and them smothered my face with the damp
yellow-stained silk.  "Is this what you want, you filthy animal?" he
mocked as he ground the sopping panties into my face, forcing me to
breathe in the acrid stench of my own juices.

I thought he was going to suffocate me, but then he took the panties
away and threw them to the ground with the rest of my clothes.  The
other guard pulled off my wet stockings and damp shoes, leaving me
totally naked. The pair of them just stood before me for a while,
studying my naked form, exchanging comments to one another in Arabic
and laughing at me and then they released me from the manacles.

It was good to be let out of the manacles as my wrists were deeply
marked from being left in them all night.  My relief didn't last long
though, as one of them immediately put my hands behind my back and
snapped a pair of handcuffs back around my wrists, before telling me
to come with them.

They led me down a long corridor and then through another door.  To my
horror, they led me past a row of other cells, except these had just
bars at the front and each one contained a male inmate.  As soon as
the first of them saw my naked form being paraded so brazenly before
them, he let out a huge cry and immediately every prisoner in the row
was leaning out of their cells, wailing and laughing, reaching out to
try and touch me.  I tried to shy away from them, but the guards held
me in place and there was nothing that I could do as the guards
continued to slowly walk me down the hallway, allowing each of the
prisoners to grope my tits, ass and pussy as I was led past them.

I can't tell you how relieved I was to get out of the corridor as I
was forced to go through another door.  As I did so, I was blinded by
the bright sunshine for a moment, but then as my eyes adjusted to the
light, I realized that I was in a small courtyard.  In front of me
were two more of the guards.  One of them had some gold braid sewn
onto his uniform and so I guessed that he was an officer of some kind.
 The other was holding a large black leather cat-o'-nine-tails in his
hands, brandishing it menacingly.  They were standing in front of
something that looked a bit like a vaulting horse, the kind of thing
that gymnasts use.

They both smiled wickedly as the two other guards led me towards them,
taking in every inch of my naked and vulnerable body.  The officer
stepped forward a couple of paces in order to address me:

"You have been found guilty of the crime of smuggling alcohol," he
said sternly.  "The punishment for this crime is to receive forty
lashes from the whip."

I knew that this was coming, but had no idea it was going to be so
many.  My legs felt like jelly and all I could do was wail in terror.

"Let the punishment begin," the officer said to the guards, who
immediately led me towards the horse and bent me over it.  As my
titties were crushed against the warm black leather covering the
horse, one of the guards undid the handcuffs and shackled my wrists to
manacles fixed into the legs of the horse.  The other performed the
same task on my ankles, spreading my legs wide and cruelly exposing my
asshole and cunt.  I looked up for a moment and saw through my tears
that there were barred windows all around the courtyard and almost
every window seemed to contain the face of a prisoner, feasting their
eyes on my form and waiting for the show to begin.

They didn't have long to wait.

Before I had time to even prepare myself, I heard the terrible swoosh
of the whip from behind me and then my own scream of pain as it lashed
down upon the tender globes of my buttocks.  I struggled to try and
release myself from the shackles, but there was no escape.  Seconds
later, and I screamed out again as I received another lash from the
brutal whipmaster, the nine leather tails of the whip seeming to bite
into my flesh.  As the third stroke landed on my behind, the tears
were running down my cheeks and spilling onto the concrete floor
beneath me and I started to beg them all for mercy, yet they showed me
none.  Time after time, the whip landed on my rump.  I could feel my
ass getting striped with angry red wheals and was sure that the whip
was going to draw blood from my delicate cheeks any moment, yet the
guard wielding the whip seemed to know his business and, as
agonizingly painful that each stroke was, he never broke the skin,
although I'm sure that not the tiniest patch of my skin escaped being
giving a crimson glow.

I had lost count of the number of lashes that I had received by now
and thought that I was going to pass out if I received any more and
found myself screaming out, "Please, no more, I'll do anything, but
stop the whipping."

The officer pricked up his ears at this and gestured for the guard
with the whip to stop, and he did.  The officer came over to me and
pulled my head up by my long blonde hair and looked into my eyes. 
"You'll do anything?" he asked with a glint in his eye.

"Anything," I whimpered.  "Just stop this torture."

He looked at me for a moment and then I saw his hand go down to his
groin and he unzipped the fly of his pants, pulling out his thick cock
that was already rock hard.  He grabbed my head and forced it towards
his dick.  "I can be very merciful if I am treated well," he grinned.

The thought of sucking his cock was appalling, but I knew that it was
either that or the whip, and I just couldn't stand any more of the
torture and so I tried to choke back my tears as I encircled the head
of his dick with my lips.  He let out a grunt as he pushed forwards,
filling my mouth with the length of his shaft.  Anxious to get this
over with as quickly as possible, I began sucking on his pole for all
I was worth, hoping that all this would be over as soon as I made him
spill his load.  He started to moan loudly as I continued to work my
mouth up and down his cockmeat.  While I was doing so, I felt a
fumbling around my cunt and I almost choked as I felt another length
of cock quickly filling my puss.  I hesitated for a moment, but senses
that the officer was getting impatient and so returned my attention to
sucking his dick as I felt the guard behind me starting to fuck me,
slowly at first, but then quickly increasing the pace.

I continued to try and get the officer off as quickly as possible, but
he seemed to be trying to make the experience last as long as
possible.  The guard behind me was grunting and groaning now as he
fucked me harder and harder.  Not having the stamina of the officer,
it didn't take long before he let out a low moan and I felt his body
spasm as his cock shot a thick wad of his cum deep inside me.  The
guard quickly withdrew and I felt his sperm starting to dribble out of
my fuckhole and trickle down the inside of my thigh.

No sooner had the guard behind me finished though than the other one
took his turn.  I tensed the muscles of my cunt ready for another
plugging, but this guard obviously decided that sloppy seconds weren't
for him and I screamed out with pain as I felt him squeezing his hard
dick up my tight asshole before starting to pump his meat in and out.

Fighting off the burning pain that came from every stroke, I carried
on sucking off the officer, running my tongue over his piss-slit as I
tried to get him to release his load.  This seemed to speed him on his
way as I could hear him grunting and groaning now as he came close to
coming.  Out of the corner of my eye I could see that the guard with
the whip had dropped it now and was fisting his cock furiously as he
watched the others taking advantage of me.

Then it finally happened.  I felt the officer go rigid for a moment
before he blasted a wad of hot milky cum down the back of my throat. 
I gagged and tied to spit his spurting cock out of my mouth, but he
hold my head in place as he came again and again, filling my mouth
with his scum.  This seemed to set off the guard behind me as I heard
him cry out with his relief and felt his cum shooting deep inside my
bowels as he too came explosively, holding on to my red-glowing
ass-cheeks to make sure that I got the full load.

Having given me his sac-full, the officer pulled his softening dick
from my mouth.  As he did so, the other guard stood before me and let
go with another wad of his hot goo that spurted all over my face,
running down my tear-stained cheeks in rivulets before splattering
onto the concrete below.  As he did so a huge cheer went up from the
dozens of prisoners at their windows who had been watching the whole
show going on. I just lay there, still strapped over the horse,
feeling the cum trickling out of my pussy, ass and mouth feeling
totally, totally abused and degraded as the four men all zipped
themselves back up.

Mercifully that was the end of it and I was escorted back to the
prison where the guards let me take a shower and gave me some fresh
clothes to put on before letting me leave.

I never told anyone at the hospital what happened that day and
resigned my position a week later.  The day I got back home, I burned
my passport.  I can't look at a bottle of whisky again either.  Not
after what happened back there.

------

Please feel free to make comments either to the board, or directly to
me at:

clarissa@submissive.co.uk

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