African Seduction of Three White Women
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Annemie's African Strip-search. free porn video
It REALLY seemed a great idea at the time, going on a short trip to Africa…
Robert, 50, had convinced his wife, Annemie that Rwanda was the place to go to.His wife’s concerns that the country was still regarded rather dangerous for western tourists were jokingly waved away by him, so off they went.
Annemie was a 49-year old woman, strongly build with short red hair and green eyes.She was 5ft7 and carried a few pounds too many, thus weighing around 165 pounds, but she carried them well.
Her husband, Robert, had recently lost his job, and although the firm he had worked for had given him a very generous severance pay, he had come very close to falling into a deep depression.
He wasn’t a hard or by any means “tough” man, but he had forced himself to get better-much to the joy of his loving wife Annemie, and from then on she was even more protective of her husband, pampering him a bit, even.
So they went to Rwanda, had a lot of fun, saw many beautiful a****ls and landscapes, and generally had a very nice, rather uneventful vacation.
Until it was time to go home again, that was…While waiting on their flight in the airport, a Rwandese customs agent, accompanied by a group of soldiers lead by an officer with Captain’s insignia, had marched into the main airport waiting area, and loudly declared that one randomly chosen passenger on the flight to Brussels, Belgium would be strip searched, for security reasons.
The customs agent had looked all the waiting passengers up and down and had finally pointed his finger at Annemie, marking her for the dreaded strip search…A flushed and nervous Annemie knew that-for hers and her husband’s sake-she had no other choice than to hesitantly comply…She quickly reassured Robert that everything would be fine, that he shouldn’t worry…
With a horrible sinking feeling, Robert watched helplessly as his nervous middle aged wife was marched through the door leading to the customs’ off!ces, surrounded by the soldiers, the customs agent bringing up the rear. He turned to the Captain and, in the most respectful tone he could summon up, asked: "Will there be a female officer in the room to conduct my wife’s search?"
With a look of contempt, the Captain shot back: "Our women stay home with the c***dren; they know their place. Now sit down and do not move or speak again." With that he turned and followed the other men into the back room, slamming the door behind him.
In stunned silence Robert slumped into a seat. The customs desk was now deserted; the entire workforce apparently needed to conduct the 'search'. 'A real professional operation they run here', he thought derisively; but after three days in this half-assed country he wasn't that surprised. Neither was he really concerned about how they ran their country; he was just trying, without success, to think about anything other than his poor wife’s coming ordeal.
Robert was overcome with guilt. It had been his idea to come here, to ignore the warnings, to convince his wife that it would be a real adventure. Now he could only sit in an agony of worry, trying not to think about what was happening on the other side of that door.
Annemie didn't have to wonder what was happening on the other side of the door; she was there, along with five quite evil looking men. She took a few deep breaths to calm down and surveyed her surroundings. She was in a large, high-ceilinged room with bare cinderblock walls. A row of thin windows near the ceiling filled the room with light but were too high to look out of. The room was empty except for two old, plain wooden chairs and a small medical examination table. The table was ancient and decrepit, its' brown padded top badly stained, and very worn and ripped in places. It looked as if it had been torn out of some condemned doctor's office. The floor was bare concrete and looked dirty and moldy, especially around a drain set in the center of the room. 'Not a pleasant place at all' Annemie thought , and an involuntary shudder went through her.
Turning around, she saw that the soldiers had arranged themselves in a semi-circle facing her, with the customs agent in the center. The Captain had seated himself in one of the two chairs off to one side. The other chair was next to the agent but remained unused, emphasizing the Captain's supremacy. As she glanced around at the men, Annemie could see a disturbing look of excited, almost predatory anticipation in each dark set of eyes. The only exception were the eyes of the Captain, which had the same cold, blank look as when she first saw him.
Smartly dressed in her bush outfit, the middle-aged red haired white woman looked oddly out of place in this dingy shed of a room, surrounded by the three soldiers in camouflage outfits and the customs agent in his sweat stained white shirt.
Clearing his throat to cover his nervous excitement, the agent addressed Annemie in English. "We will now conduct an official strip search, which is customary in most countries and is in full accordance with international law. You will remember the Captain's instructions: do exactly what I tell you and absolutely no back talk. Speak only when asked a question. Do you understand, Mrs. Vitas?" Although she was trembling inside with fear and anger, Annemie knew that she must stay focused and in control of her emotions. With as much calm as she could muster, she looked across at the agent and said, in a voice just above a whisper, "Yes".
"Verrry good", said the smiling agent, "now listen carefully. When I tell you to, you will undress yourself. You will take off each item of clothing, hand it to me, and wait while I inspect it. When you see that I am finished, you will hand me another item. Is that clear? Silence..., and then quietly from Annemie, "Yes".
"Verrry good-now strip!"
A quick look around at the expectant faces told Annemie that there was no room whatsoever for any appeal. She slipped off her open bush jacket and handed it to the waiting agent. He took it and began opening its' numerous large pockets-removing the items contained in each. A camera, a small pair of binoculars, sunglasses, deodorant, a pack of moist towelettes, a pack of heavy Turkish cigarettes and a lighter-the usual accoutrements of the western tourist. The agent made a show of examining each item carefully, then placing it on the empty chair. After inspecting the jacket inside and out, he laid it over the other gear and stared at the middle aged white woman in anticipation. She pulled off her cap and held it out, her short red hair shaking loose. The agent barely glanced at it before tossing it on the chair and looking up to receive the next garment. No words were spoken; the choice of what to hand over next seemed to be entirely up to Annemie herself.
She was standing in her white, oversized T-shirt, bulky blue bush shorts, sturdy hiking boots, and heavy white socks. Eyeing the dirty, clammy looking floor, Annemie was not at all ready to give up the protection of her boots. She had resolved to follow their commands, in order to protect herself and her son and was trying to de-sensitize herself to the particulars of what she had to do. Without another thought, she suddenly grabbed the lower hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, handing it to the surprised customs officer.
The grins of the soldiers spread wider as they stared at the 49-year old woman's white bra and sudden exposure of pale skin. The fullness of Annemie's brassiere promised delights to come, and an air of excitement hung in the room. The agent pulled the T-shirt through his fingers, his eyes never leaving the partially-clad woman standing passively in front of him, nervously looking at the floor. He laid the shirt on the chair and waited again.
Annemie was dealing with her increasingly awful predicament by mentally withdrawing from the details of what she was doing. Aware of the need to hand over another item, she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. Pulling the bra from her body, her big, saggy 38 DD breasts tumbled free, sluggishly resting on her belly, nakedly exposed to the group of now wide-eyed men.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Annemie was feverishly trying to reason that seeing her completely topless would probably not excite these men all too much, since most of the native women in the back country all went bare breasted. Not so! It was true that the local men were used to seeing the local women’s tits, but the sight of a white woman's breasts bared was a rare sight for them indeed, and it showed!
The agent and soldiers stared transfixed at Annemie's exposed twin udders, saggingly round and milky white, her huge pink areola and nipples seemingly staring right back at them.
The woman stood there naked from the waist up. After a long minute of feasting his eyes, the agent gestured for the next item, snapping her out of her daze. Not wanting to take her pants off yet, she kneeled down to untie first one boot and then the other. The men focused on her smooth, white back and the sides of her boobs, bulging outwards as she hunched over. Annemie stood up and pulled her boots off one at a time, clumsily hopping on one leg doing so, her big, saggy tits and soft belly wobbling with her efforts. As each boot came off, she placed a sock-clad foot on the dirty floor.
The boots were given a cursory inspection and then placed under the chair. 'At least he didn't put them on top of her other clothes' , she thought, allowing herself to think that the man might have some shred of consideration. Not much though, she realized grimly, as he waited for her next garment.
Truth be said, Annemie was surprised at how well she was controlling her fear, nervousness, and anger. A cold calm seemed to envelope her, dulling the embarrassment of this completely humiliating forced striptease.
Still unable to imagine putting her bare feet on the disgusting floor, she unbuckled her heavy shorts and let them slide down her legs. Stepping out of her pants, she handed them to the agent, who received them with a smiling formality. Despite her numbed state, she was now acutely aware of her near nudity. Her white-wit-blue bikini panties left much of her broad hips and rather large belly bare, her large, sagging breasts were hanging sluggishly down, completely exposed, only her thick, white socks afforded her any feeling of protection now.
The soldiers were jabbering happily among themselves in their native language, shamelessly pointing at her, obviously critiquing her almost completely exposed female charms. The slimy agent was trying to go through the pockets of her shorts while keeping his eyes glued to her boobs. The situation would almost be funny, she thought, except for the fact that, ridiculous as she found these people, she was completely in their control. A chill went through her as she glanced over at the Captain sitting impassively in his chair, his expressionless eyes taking in every detail of her humiliation but revealing nothing. Annemie sensed the agent was only waiting for some kind of humiliating “finale”, and that thought made her shudder. All her feelings of safety and security in the world were slipping away together with her clothes. Her thick, warm socks had taken on an almost irrational importance to her. Right now she wanted more than anything to be able to keep them on. She knew the order of her stripping didn't matter, she would be buck naked in a few minutes anyway…
Looking around, she could see how anxious the men were to see her most private female parts. She realized that denying them that pleasure for a few moments longer was probably going to be her last chance to deny them anything at all, so she made her decision. Lifting her leg, Annemie yanked one sock off angrily and planted her bare foot firmly on the cold ground. She quickly pulled off the other sock and now stood barefoot on the dirty, clammy floor. The coolness of the concrete radiated up her body and an involuntary shiver ran through her as she stood there, barefoot and bare breasted before the grinning and leering males.
The agent dropped her dirty socks carelessly on top of her other clothes, and then stared at her, silently waiting.The humiliated white woman did not move. She needed a brief show of resistance for herself, just to regain her composure. Thinking that maybe she was making it too easy for this worm of an agent, she decided that he would have to ask her for her last garment.
And he did…The agent had to swallow before he spoke, his mouth having gone dry from excitement. In an annoyed, stern voice he croaked "Take off your underpants, now!".
A bit pleased with herself for still being able to make the man slightly nervous, Annemie slipped her fingers into the waistband of her panties and pushed them down over her bare hips. Her completely shaved, slightly protruding vulva was suddenly exposed to five sets of completely strange male eyes, her panties sliding down her legs and pooling around her ankles. She stood there like that for a full minute, stark naked, her fallen panties-containing a big “just in case” sanitary pad bunched around her ankles. The men stared in silence, mesmerized. Most had never seen a nude white woman. They drank in the glories of her naked body, her fiery red hair, her pale skin, her big saggy tits, her huge pink “white woman” nipples, and, most fascinating of all, the total absence of any pubic hair between her legs.
Letting her panties fall to the dirty floor may seem odd, but Annemie was trying to demonstrate, to both herself and the Africans, that she didn't care what they did, that nothing would faze her from now on. It was a gesture wasted on her tormentors, who were too focused on her nudity to even notice. The agent finally held out his hand and the now stark naked woman stepped out of her empty panties, picked them up, and silently handed them to the man, avoiding his eyes. He dropped them on top of her dirty socks.
The pile of Annemie's clothing was now complete. Everything she owned and had been wearing when she entered the room was now on or under the old wooden chair, leaving her completely in her birthday suit. She stood with her arms at her sides, making no attempt to cover her nudity as the soldiers ran their eyes over her bare body, laughing and commenting among themselves.She was painfully aware that the comments that were given weren’t all on the positive side, they were clearly making fun of the fact that gravity, two pregnancies and good living had taken their toll on her 49-year old body…
“We’re going to take a few photographs to add to your file”, the Captain said, “You will stand absolutely still and look directly to the camera while they are taken”.Annemie shuddered at the idea of being photographed by these men while completely naked, but at the same time she realized and knew that uttering ANY complaints about it would only lengthen her anguish and make the whole thing even worse for her and her son, so she stood perfectly still while one of the soldiers produced a digital camera and took about a dozen photo’s of her exposed naked front, back, left and right sides…She hoped the photo’s taken would never surface on the internet, the thought of her family and friends seeing her like this made her stomach sink.
Annemie's mind wandered, thinking about the role reversal of her situation. Instead of the white explorer or traveler encountering the scantily clad natives, here she was, a 49-year old white woman, completely naked in front of a group of fully clothed Africans.
"Now put your hands behind your head", the agent ordered abruptly. She did as he instructed, elbows out. Her audience laughed and watched as her large tits were raised and thrust forward, her bare pink nipples pointing right at them.
”Now slowly lift your tits, so we can see there’s nothing hidden underneath them”, the customs agent snarled, “one at a time”.Annemie obeyed, slowly taking hold of and lifting first her right 38DD breast, than the left one, showing the men nothing was conceiled under the big white globes.The soldiers were grinning like Cheshire cats.”Now lift the fat belly, quickly”, the man snarled…Truly red-faced for the first time since her ordeal had begun, a shamed Annemie complied, lifting the thick layer of fat on her belly so the men could see “nothing was hidden underneath”…
"Now hands back behind your head and legs wide apart" barked the agent. Annemie let loose of her belly, raised her arms again and shifted her legs so that her feet were shoulder width apart. The men's eyes instantly dropped to the middle-aged woman's naked crotch, where they could clearly see-due to the total absence of any covering pubic hair-her completely visible little pink slit.Annemie forced herself to remain detached. She wondered what her husband Robert was doing at this moment, and she was glad he didn’t have to see this humiliating spectacle…
Robert was sitting.
He too was trying to keep his mind blank. The thought of what might be happening to his wife behind the closed door, was too painful to contemplate. He was sunk in a morass of conflicting emotions. He wanted to protect his wife so badly, but the only way to do that was to sit here meekly and do nothing.
He consoled himself with the thought that whatever was being done to his Annemie in that room, it was better than what would happen to her if he resisted. Robert looked around the terminal. It was filling up with people for the flight out, but no one was at the counter to process them; all of the customs staff being in the search room, enjoying the show, he thought bitterly. Oddly, the other passengers did not seem upset or annoyed at the lack of organization. Robert guessed that in Ruanda, remaining docile was an important quality of the successful citizen. The threat of quick and brutal retaliation for anyone who stepped out of line was guaranteed, and he knew that included him and his wife. So he sat, and worried.
Inside the room, his now completely naked spouse stood and waited, legs still apart, and started to worry…How far were these thugs going to go with her, she wondered? Despite her resolve to remain detached, Annemie couldn't help but become increasingly aware of her complete nudity and vulnerability, and a wave of shame swept through her bare body. With great effort she managed to shake it off, just in time to hear her next instructions. "Slowly walk to the far wall and back, and keep walking up and down until I tell you to stop". Annemie turned and slowly walked towards the rear wall, the soldiers getting their first good look at her naked backside. All eyes were glued to the woman's bare ass, her fat, full ass cheeks wobbling lewdly with each step. Reaching the wall she turned and walked back towards the men, sluggishly swinging boobs and bald pussy embarrassingly on full display. The men watched like a pack of hungry wolves as they made her do at least ten or twelve back and forth trips, mimicking the wobbling of her soft belly, grinningly trying to decide which side of her they preferred. Finally the agent told her to stop, and she stood before them, naked and at at attention again, as told.
"Turn around", he ordered. She complied. "Bend over and spread your ass cheeks".
Annemie was not totally shocked.She was expecting something like this. Now they were getting down to the nitty-gritty of this whole charade. She turned her back on the men and spread her legs slightly. Taking a deep breath, she reached back, grabbed a full buttock in each hand, and bent forward at the waist, pulling her ass cheeks wide apart. 'I'm going to give them the full show', she thought through her anger, 'just so they'd shut their stupid mouths and look their fill'.
The agent and soldiers watched in a lusty stupor as the middle-aged naked tourist woman brazenly spread her bottom for them. The dark crease between her lush bum cheeks parted, revealing her puckered asshole. Annemie's crinkled anus was a deep reddish color, contrasting obscenely with the very pale hemispheres of her bare fanny and buttocks. The men stared long and hard. They had subjected many hapless victims to this humiliating routine, mostly males. This was their first white woman. They gazed in wonder, the time passing in silence.
Annemie's back and legs were starting to ache as she held the uncomfortable position. She could feel a slight breeze against her exposed anus, and though idly that maybe it was coming from the combined heavy breathing of all the men in the room. 'What a way to pass the time waiting for a flight', she thought sarcastically. Finally, reluctantly, the agent whispered "Stand up". The naked woman straightened up slowly, the men watching in fascination as her rosebud was again enfolded and hidden between the plump cheeks of her ample behind.
"Come over here, and quickly" the agent ordered as he walked to the old examination table. As Annemie followed him, her bare feet padding across the cool, dank floor, she was again feeling very naked. She glanced briefly at the Captain, watching her from his chair with cold eyes. He seemed the least interested in the proceedings, the least likely to do anything physical to her, yet he frightened her the most. Arriving at the table, she faced the customs agent, who made a point of looking her up and down before he spoke. "We will now do a full body cavity search" he said with a smirk on his lips. "Get on the table and lie on your back".
Annemie looked down at the table and shuddered. The old leather padding was scratched and torn. It was a mottled brownish color, covered with dark stains. She imagined that these were sweat stains from previous naked victims. Suppressing her revulsion, she climbed nakedly up on the table. As she lay back, she found that it was too short to stretch out on full length. With her head at one end of the table, she had to bend her knees almost straight up so that her feet could rest on the opposite end. She could fell the sharp edges of the rips and tears in the leather padding digging into the naked skin of her back and buttocks. "Spread your legs" the agent blurted out. She moved her feet carefully to the outer edges of the table and let her thighs fall wide open. Annemie knew that if she held anything back from these pigs now, they would just give her more orders, and she was thoroughly sick of hearing the agent's nauseating voice. She was determined not to feel shame-they were the guilty ones here.
Guilty though they might be, the agent and soldiers' focus was not on their misconduct but on the 49-year old nude redhead spreading her legs before them.The men watched hungrily as her bald, pink vulva slowly opened, exposing the velvety inner folds of her labia. Annemie glanced down towards the end of the table and found herself almost amused at the oddness of the view. Looking past her bare breasts, which were leaning outwards, her chubby, shaved pussy sprouted up at the base of her soft belly like some small, pink mountain between the V of her thighs. Crowded in a tight group between those thighs were four goggle-eyed men, framed by the V as if posing for a group portrait.
The moment stretched on. Annemie found herself actually getting bored. 'All right already', she mused, 'they've seen my cunt, big deal! I haven't got anything down there different from any other woman'.
But from the soldiers' point of view, it was a very big deal. The bald, white vagina with its soft, pink vaginal lips, glistening slightly, was to them a sight fit for the Gods. Annemie was fortunate that she could only see the men from the waist up. Had she been able to see the ominous bulges in the men's pants, she might have been more worried.
The agent reached into a drawer in the table and took out what looked like an old, rusty canister of cold cream and unscrewed the wide, round lid. With a leer of anticipation, he stuck his long, thin finger in the jar and pulled it out, coated with a nasty looking yellowish gel. Annemie understood what was coming. Looking up at the cracked ceiling, she braced herself, gripping the edges of the table and digging in her feet. Placing the palm of one hand firmly on her bare, shaved mound and spreading her inner lips with his fingers, the trembling agent slid his long, greased digit slowly into her open vagina. The soldiers watched in fascination and envy as the agent's finger disappeared completely into the woman's body. Keeping his finger all the way in, he rotated his hand to the left and then right, feeling the walls of her vaginal canal, his knuckles rubbing against her vagina’s inside. Annemie's eyes were squeezed shut against the intimate and uncomfortable intrusion.
The soldiers were now jabbering at the agent, who reluctantly withdrew his finger from the 49-year old woman's sex. It emerged with a soft, smacking sound. Annemie glanced down again and saw that the soldiers were jostling each other for position. With a shock she realized they were arguing over who would be next to finger her. She barely had time to comprehend this new development when the tallest man in the group won the argument.
With a grin at the others, he dipped his large finger in the grease and unceremoniously shoved it up Annemie's pussy to the hilt. She winced and let out a high yelp of surprise and pain. The man's finger, besides being very large, must have had a rough or cracked nail, and had scratched her going in. The bastard laughed at her discomfort, grinning idiotically, and began sawing his finger in and out of the humiliated woman's tender vagina. Annemie bit her lip and bore it, determined not to give him the satisfaction of crying out again. He finally pulled out with a loud, greasy smack and made a big show of sniffing his dripping finger, drawing laughs from the others. He had barely stepped away from the table when a second soldier took his place.
Annemie's now wide open vulva was glistening with grease, her belly and bare pubic mound smeared with it. Not bothering with the preliminaries, the new man brutally thrust a stubby, dirty digit into her open slit and held it there, felling the warm walls of her cunt clinging to his finger. A look of uncontrollable lust suddenly came into the man's eyes. He quickly jerked his finger painfully out of Annemie's pussy and began fumbling with his pants.
When she saw this and understood that she was about to be ****d, the chubby naked woman snapped out of her compliant role. Struggling to get up, she kicked out strongly with her naked legs, aiming at the would-be r****t.All those years of playing hockey in school finally paid off when she realized her strong kicks kept the man at bay-for now… Another soldier moved to hold her down, painfully grabbing her short hair and punching and grabbing her exposed tits, but just then she landed a powerful kick directly to the balls of her potential r****t. The man let out a loud scream and fell to the ground, doubled over in pain.
Suddenly the Captain was on his feet, shouting out a string of commands in the native language. The soldiers instantly froze, let go of Annemie and then came to attention, fear showing in their eyes. The man on the floor stopped groaning, probably more afraid than the rest. All was quiet in the room again. Even Annemie, naked and half sitting up, her breasts sore from the punches and her groin covered in grease, didn't move. The Captain's air of icy calm returned. He turned to her and said: "We will continue the search, but you will not be harmed". With a nod to the agent he resumed his seat. Annemie recognized that although the Captain had protected her, the man had no feelings of protectiveness towards her-she doubted if he had any feelings at all.
As for the Captain : he would let his men have a little fun with their strip search, at the same time teaching these haughty Belgian tourists a little humility. ****, however, might result in an official protest. Although President Amindala generally did not worry about such things, you never knew when something would annoy him, and he was a most unpleasant man when annoyed.
"Go on", he ordered the agent, who was so overcome with fear that, turning back to the table, he could not even appreciate the erotic vision stretched out before him. The 49-year old barenaked white woman still lay propped up on one elbow, sweating and breathing heavily from her struggles, her big belly and large, saggy naked breasts rising and falling with each labored breath.Her enormous pink nipples were totally erect and pointing straight forward due to the unwanted tension of the situation.Her bare legs were slightly apart, her still slightly spread bald vagina obscenely leaking slimy melted grease onto the worn brown leather table, a collected pool of which shimmered between her fat thighs.
"Almost finished now Miss", he announced politely, "one more procedure and then you will probably be free to go. Get down and turn around, facing the table." Annemie could hear a new tone of respect in the agent's voice. Her apparent lack of shame or fear in responding to their humiliating commands, combined with the effective fight she put up to defend herself when they tried to go too far had clearly marked her in their eyes as a woman to be reckoned with. As she slipped off the table, she noticed the man she had kicked, still not able to straighten up. A warm glow of inner satisfaction spread through her, somewhat making up for the feeling of the dank floor under her bare feet, and the knowledge of what was coming next.
"Bend over the table, legs apart" came the command, and she assumed the position, sticking her ass out defiantly. She was determined to take the worst they could dish out without a whimper, proud of her newfound toughness.
The men may have had a new measure of respect for the scrappy Belgian tourist, but they were not to be denied their fun. They were again leering hungrily at the sight of the chubby naked woman bent over the table, her bare white bottom shining at them. The agent dipped his finger once again into the can of grease and pulled it out, liberally coated with the yellowish goo. He stepped right up close to Annemie's rump as if he intended to mount her. Placing his hand on one of her bare bum cheeks, he spread it to the side, exposing her puckered anus to the soldiers who had crowded close to watch.
What happened next depended on who and where you were.
From the agent's viewpoint, standing right behind the naked woman, all was right with the world. He was filled with feelings of power and lust. What a strong, wonderful man he must be, able to order this posh European woman to strip completely naked and then submit to these humiliating procedures. Trembling with sexual excitement, his eyes locked on Annemie’s asshole, he brought his greased finger towards its intended target. He thrilled at the feeling of rubbery warmth as his fingertip lodged against her puckered rosebud. Pushing harder, the agent's long, black finger slid smoothly through the naked woman's clenching sphincter and on into the intimate, dark recesses of her rectum. He pushed the digit all the way in, until his fist was pressing up against Annemie's ass crack, her anus gripping the base of his finger tightly. The soldiers crowded round, laughing heartily, feasting their eyes on the obscene sight.
From Annemie's viewpoint, there wasn't much to see at all, only the grease-stained leather top of the examination table and the bare wall beyond. For her, the experience was one of feelings. First, the feeling of exposure from the degrading position she was forced to assume, displaying her bare ass to a group of strange men. As she bent over and her ass cheeks separated, she could once more feel the humid air on her exposed anus. Next, she felt the agent's sweaty palm on her left buttock. Expecting worse, she got it. A warm, slimy object nudged against her anal opening, pushed hard, and slid on into her rectum. Annemie's sphincter defensively tightened against the intruder, but the greasy finger was not to be denied. She could feel the man's knuckles as they glided past her clenching rosebud and she found herself thinking absurdly that they hadn't even been properly introduced…She willed herself to lie there passively, with a tushy full of finger, waiting for it to be over.
From her husband's viewpoint, there was nothing much to see or feel, except in his mind. He was vaguely aware of the people sitting patiently around him, the low murmur of African voices. He stared fixedly at the door to the back room, its' blank surface revealing nothing. He knew only that his wife was on the other side, in a room with five men, completely at their mercy. He couldn't help but knowing that the men would make Annemie undress and inspect her naked body. The least he could hope for is that they would do nothing worse. It was painful enough to realize that his middle-aged wife was probably nude on the other side of the door, the men seeing everything; but he was experiencing an even worse feeling. It was the feeling of being shut out, of being the only one involved who couldn't see her. Robert was somewhat ashamed of his desire to witness his wife's humiliation, but he couldn't deny the feeling, it was too powerful. Though he didn't know it, it was also a perfectly natural reaction to his situation. Those men did not deserve to be getting any free peeks or feels of his spouse.She was a very prim and proper Lady, and she didn’t deserve this…
Back inside the room, the greedy customs agent had now had his finger up Annemie's poor fundament for several minutes. He could feel the heat of her body radiating through her intestines as if he were taking her rectal temperature. Reluctantly, he pulled his finger slowly out of the woman's clinging anus. It exited with a soft, wet “plop”, which drew a big chuckle from the soldiers looking on.
'About time' Annemie thought, flooded with relief. Apart from being extremely inappropriate, the anal intrusion had not been particularly painful, but her back and legs were now aching from holding the awkward semi-kneeling position for so long. What was making her most uncomfortable at the moment however, was a pressing need to pee. Without asking permission she slowly straightened up, relieving the pain in her back and legs, and turned to face her tormentors. She was past caring about their seeing her nakedness, she just wanted to finish up and get to a bathroom. "I didn't say you could get up", snapped the agent. "One more man has to perform the rectal search", he explained, indicating the soldier who had not yet laid a hand on her.
Disbelief and rage flashed through her, but she quickly suppressed her emotions, determined to reveal nothing to the enemy. In a calculated act of rebellion, she actually took a step closer to the agent, her completely bare body only inches from his clothed one. Staring him right in the eye, her green eyes blazing, she stated in a calm but steely voice that would brook no refusal: "I need to go to the toilet, now!"
Taken totally off guard, the agent felt intimidated by the angry, naked woman. He might even have let her dress and leave, but he knew he could not completely surrender his authority in front of the Captain and the soldiers. Regaining some of his composure, he pointed to the metal grating of the drain, set in the middle of the floor, he was certain she would refuse such a degrading suggestion. Without a moments' hesitation, the naked red-haired woman marched over to the drain, turned facing the men and, straddling the grating, proceeded to squat and pee.
The soldiers stared in amazement at the sight of the chubby naked white woman shamelessly urinating in front of them. All eyes were glued to Annemie's crotch, where a steaming, yellow stream of piss was gushing from the middle-aged woman’s urethra. Annemie's pee made a hissing noise as it continued to pour forth strongly from between her bald pussylips, splashing on the metal grating and wetting her bare feet before trickling down the filthy drain. Finally, her seemingly endless stream began to weaken. The five males watched transfixed as the last few drops of urine dribbled out of the white woman's wet genitals.
Without a word, and without wiping herself, Annemie stood up, walked calmly back to the table, bent over, and spread her legs. The men were stunned and confused by the white woman's behavior. Though they of course enjoyed the unexpected treat of watching the still good looking 49-year old redheaded tourist take a piss right in front of them, they were put off by the new brazenness of her behavior. She was not acting cowed or intimidated, two of the basic requirements of a good strip search. She was taking some of the "fun" out of it.
Nevertheless, one more treat was in store for them, as the third soldier approached Annemie’s's naked backside. They all knew that this man had short but unusually thick fingers. Not bothering with the jar of lube, he placed the blunt tip of his fat finger against Annemie's already greased up asshole and shoved it forward mightily.
The tormented woman let out a yell, a long, drawn out "aaaaahhh!"… The men watched in fascination as her small, puckered anus stretched to accommodate the huge intruder, expanding from a crinkled red dot to a smooth and shiny wide ring of distended muscle, gripping the man's fat finger.
Annemie was trying to relax, to accustom herself to the monster lodged in her rectum, when the man began to crudely pump his digit in and out of her rear end.
Pain shot through her naked body as she fell helplessly forward across the table. She tried not to cry out, but the agony from the massive finger stretching and rubbing the tender flesh of her dilated anus was too much to bear. An unladylike grunt escaped her throat each time the brute pushed his finger in, followed by a low, cowlike bellow when he pulled out. The soldiers were practically drooling over the obscene sight of the naked white tourist's distended anal ring gripping the fat, black finger as it slid relentlessly in and out of her rectum, buggering her. Her grunts and moans were music to their ears.
Suddenly the Captain's voice shot across the room. "Enough!" he commanded-and it was over.
The soldier pulled his finger from Annemie's behind with a loud, wet “plop”. Her asshole, looking red and raw, remained open for a few seconds before slowly contracting to its normal puckered state. The room was quiet except for the heavy breathing of both the naked, middle-aged woman and the men. The quiet was suddenly broken as a now teary-eyed Annemie groaned and let loose with a long series of loud, wet farts, the soldiers laughing hysterically at her discomfort and humiliation, slapping each other’s backs .
"Get dressed Miss, you're free to go" announced the customs agent. He felt that he had done what was expected of him : that he and his assistants had thoroughly humiliated this prideful Belgian woman.
Annemie took a few more deep, healing breaths as she lay d****d across the table, her sore bare arse still pointing up, facing the smirking men. Disregarding the pain between her legs, she shakily stood up and, ignoring the men completely, walked over to the pile of her clothes. She picked up her panties, dirty from having fallen to the floor when she undressed, turned them around to find a clean spot, and used them to delicately wipe most of the grease from her raw cunt and ass. Then, throwing the panties on the floor, she put the rest of her clothes back on.
When Annemie was once again fully clothed : bulky shorts, safari jacket, heavy boots, baseball cap, she looked every bit as stylish and attractive as when she came in. Without a look back, she walked-with a slight limp-to the door and left the room, leaving the soldiers to marvel at her toughness, and maybe feeling a little ashamed at having treated such a decent woman so disgracefully.
Annemie didn't give the men another thought, they were beneath contempt. Entering the main terminal area, she saw her nervous husband, Robert, rise from his seat and threw herself into his waiting arms. "I'm fine", she whispered reassuringly, "I'll give you the gory details later.Maybe. Let's just go home".Robert, sensing her needs, asked no further questions, grateful to see her apparently unhurt. He quickly took charge of the situation and tenderly guided his wife through the rest of the airport procedures and onto the waiting plane. Annemie clung to his arm, lost in her own thoughts.
They had both been so sure of themselves, not realizing what a dangerous place the world could be. She had born the brunt of their punishment, but horrible as it had been, she had discovered just how strong she could be.
She was proud of the way she had handled herself. She had given in when she knew she must, to protect herself and her husband, but had maintained at least some of her dignity. She had not acted like some helpless ninny, and was enormously proud of fighting off the man who had tried to **** her. Most of all, she was determined to put the whole, distasteful incident behind her. Not that it excuses the men, but the things that were done to her were not so unusual. They were just the things that such men do when given power over women: undress them and stick their fingers into various orifices. Not very original when you think about it. She would not be traumatized, she was stronger than that. She had a wonderful, loving husband, and a good life to get back to.
Annemie was suddenly aware that they were on the plane already, flying over the trees and scrub, headed back to safety and civilization. Looking out of her window, she found herself thinking what a beautiful country this really was. Maybe, if the government changed, they would come back here someday.
A brief spasm of pain shot through her sore asshole, followed by a series of small farts.She smelled grease.
Then again, maybe not.
Robert, 50, had convinced his wife, Annemie that Rwanda was the place to go to.His wife’s concerns that the country was still regarded rather dangerous for western tourists were jokingly waved away by him, so off they went.
Annemie was a 49-year old woman, strongly build with short red hair and green eyes.She was 5ft7 and carried a few pounds too many, thus weighing around 165 pounds, but she carried them well.
Her husband, Robert, had recently lost his job, and although the firm he had worked for had given him a very generous severance pay, he had come very close to falling into a deep depression.
He wasn’t a hard or by any means “tough” man, but he had forced himself to get better-much to the joy of his loving wife Annemie, and from then on she was even more protective of her husband, pampering him a bit, even.
So they went to Rwanda, had a lot of fun, saw many beautiful a****ls and landscapes, and generally had a very nice, rather uneventful vacation.
Until it was time to go home again, that was…While waiting on their flight in the airport, a Rwandese customs agent, accompanied by a group of soldiers lead by an officer with Captain’s insignia, had marched into the main airport waiting area, and loudly declared that one randomly chosen passenger on the flight to Brussels, Belgium would be strip searched, for security reasons.
The customs agent had looked all the waiting passengers up and down and had finally pointed his finger at Annemie, marking her for the dreaded strip search…A flushed and nervous Annemie knew that-for hers and her husband’s sake-she had no other choice than to hesitantly comply…She quickly reassured Robert that everything would be fine, that he shouldn’t worry…
With a horrible sinking feeling, Robert watched helplessly as his nervous middle aged wife was marched through the door leading to the customs’ off!ces, surrounded by the soldiers, the customs agent bringing up the rear. He turned to the Captain and, in the most respectful tone he could summon up, asked: "Will there be a female officer in the room to conduct my wife’s search?"
With a look of contempt, the Captain shot back: "Our women stay home with the c***dren; they know their place. Now sit down and do not move or speak again." With that he turned and followed the other men into the back room, slamming the door behind him.
In stunned silence Robert slumped into a seat. The customs desk was now deserted; the entire workforce apparently needed to conduct the 'search'. 'A real professional operation they run here', he thought derisively; but after three days in this half-assed country he wasn't that surprised. Neither was he really concerned about how they ran their country; he was just trying, without success, to think about anything other than his poor wife’s coming ordeal.
Robert was overcome with guilt. It had been his idea to come here, to ignore the warnings, to convince his wife that it would be a real adventure. Now he could only sit in an agony of worry, trying not to think about what was happening on the other side of that door.
Annemie didn't have to wonder what was happening on the other side of the door; she was there, along with five quite evil looking men. She took a few deep breaths to calm down and surveyed her surroundings. She was in a large, high-ceilinged room with bare cinderblock walls. A row of thin windows near the ceiling filled the room with light but were too high to look out of. The room was empty except for two old, plain wooden chairs and a small medical examination table. The table was ancient and decrepit, its' brown padded top badly stained, and very worn and ripped in places. It looked as if it had been torn out of some condemned doctor's office. The floor was bare concrete and looked dirty and moldy, especially around a drain set in the center of the room. 'Not a pleasant place at all' Annemie thought , and an involuntary shudder went through her.
Turning around, she saw that the soldiers had arranged themselves in a semi-circle facing her, with the customs agent in the center. The Captain had seated himself in one of the two chairs off to one side. The other chair was next to the agent but remained unused, emphasizing the Captain's supremacy. As she glanced around at the men, Annemie could see a disturbing look of excited, almost predatory anticipation in each dark set of eyes. The only exception were the eyes of the Captain, which had the same cold, blank look as when she first saw him.
Smartly dressed in her bush outfit, the middle-aged red haired white woman looked oddly out of place in this dingy shed of a room, surrounded by the three soldiers in camouflage outfits and the customs agent in his sweat stained white shirt.
Clearing his throat to cover his nervous excitement, the agent addressed Annemie in English. "We will now conduct an official strip search, which is customary in most countries and is in full accordance with international law. You will remember the Captain's instructions: do exactly what I tell you and absolutely no back talk. Speak only when asked a question. Do you understand, Mrs. Vitas?" Although she was trembling inside with fear and anger, Annemie knew that she must stay focused and in control of her emotions. With as much calm as she could muster, she looked across at the agent and said, in a voice just above a whisper, "Yes".
"Verrry good", said the smiling agent, "now listen carefully. When I tell you to, you will undress yourself. You will take off each item of clothing, hand it to me, and wait while I inspect it. When you see that I am finished, you will hand me another item. Is that clear? Silence..., and then quietly from Annemie, "Yes".
"Verrry good-now strip!"
A quick look around at the expectant faces told Annemie that there was no room whatsoever for any appeal. She slipped off her open bush jacket and handed it to the waiting agent. He took it and began opening its' numerous large pockets-removing the items contained in each. A camera, a small pair of binoculars, sunglasses, deodorant, a pack of moist towelettes, a pack of heavy Turkish cigarettes and a lighter-the usual accoutrements of the western tourist. The agent made a show of examining each item carefully, then placing it on the empty chair. After inspecting the jacket inside and out, he laid it over the other gear and stared at the middle aged white woman in anticipation. She pulled off her cap and held it out, her short red hair shaking loose. The agent barely glanced at it before tossing it on the chair and looking up to receive the next garment. No words were spoken; the choice of what to hand over next seemed to be entirely up to Annemie herself.
She was standing in her white, oversized T-shirt, bulky blue bush shorts, sturdy hiking boots, and heavy white socks. Eyeing the dirty, clammy looking floor, Annemie was not at all ready to give up the protection of her boots. She had resolved to follow their commands, in order to protect herself and her son and was trying to de-sensitize herself to the particulars of what she had to do. Without another thought, she suddenly grabbed the lower hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, handing it to the surprised customs officer.
The grins of the soldiers spread wider as they stared at the 49-year old woman's white bra and sudden exposure of pale skin. The fullness of Annemie's brassiere promised delights to come, and an air of excitement hung in the room. The agent pulled the T-shirt through his fingers, his eyes never leaving the partially-clad woman standing passively in front of him, nervously looking at the floor. He laid the shirt on the chair and waited again.
Annemie was dealing with her increasingly awful predicament by mentally withdrawing from the details of what she was doing. Aware of the need to hand over another item, she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. Pulling the bra from her body, her big, saggy 38 DD breasts tumbled free, sluggishly resting on her belly, nakedly exposed to the group of now wide-eyed men.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Annemie was feverishly trying to reason that seeing her completely topless would probably not excite these men all too much, since most of the native women in the back country all went bare breasted. Not so! It was true that the local men were used to seeing the local women’s tits, but the sight of a white woman's breasts bared was a rare sight for them indeed, and it showed!
The agent and soldiers stared transfixed at Annemie's exposed twin udders, saggingly round and milky white, her huge pink areola and nipples seemingly staring right back at them.
The woman stood there naked from the waist up. After a long minute of feasting his eyes, the agent gestured for the next item, snapping her out of her daze. Not wanting to take her pants off yet, she kneeled down to untie first one boot and then the other. The men focused on her smooth, white back and the sides of her boobs, bulging outwards as she hunched over. Annemie stood up and pulled her boots off one at a time, clumsily hopping on one leg doing so, her big, saggy tits and soft belly wobbling with her efforts. As each boot came off, she placed a sock-clad foot on the dirty floor.
The boots were given a cursory inspection and then placed under the chair. 'At least he didn't put them on top of her other clothes' , she thought, allowing herself to think that the man might have some shred of consideration. Not much though, she realized grimly, as he waited for her next garment.
Truth be said, Annemie was surprised at how well she was controlling her fear, nervousness, and anger. A cold calm seemed to envelope her, dulling the embarrassment of this completely humiliating forced striptease.
Still unable to imagine putting her bare feet on the disgusting floor, she unbuckled her heavy shorts and let them slide down her legs. Stepping out of her pants, she handed them to the agent, who received them with a smiling formality. Despite her numbed state, she was now acutely aware of her near nudity. Her white-wit-blue bikini panties left much of her broad hips and rather large belly bare, her large, sagging breasts were hanging sluggishly down, completely exposed, only her thick, white socks afforded her any feeling of protection now.
The soldiers were jabbering happily among themselves in their native language, shamelessly pointing at her, obviously critiquing her almost completely exposed female charms. The slimy agent was trying to go through the pockets of her shorts while keeping his eyes glued to her boobs. The situation would almost be funny, she thought, except for the fact that, ridiculous as she found these people, she was completely in their control. A chill went through her as she glanced over at the Captain sitting impassively in his chair, his expressionless eyes taking in every detail of her humiliation but revealing nothing. Annemie sensed the agent was only waiting for some kind of humiliating “finale”, and that thought made her shudder. All her feelings of safety and security in the world were slipping away together with her clothes. Her thick, warm socks had taken on an almost irrational importance to her. Right now she wanted more than anything to be able to keep them on. She knew the order of her stripping didn't matter, she would be buck naked in a few minutes anyway…
Looking around, she could see how anxious the men were to see her most private female parts. She realized that denying them that pleasure for a few moments longer was probably going to be her last chance to deny them anything at all, so she made her decision. Lifting her leg, Annemie yanked one sock off angrily and planted her bare foot firmly on the cold ground. She quickly pulled off the other sock and now stood barefoot on the dirty, clammy floor. The coolness of the concrete radiated up her body and an involuntary shiver ran through her as she stood there, barefoot and bare breasted before the grinning and leering males.
The agent dropped her dirty socks carelessly on top of her other clothes, and then stared at her, silently waiting.The humiliated white woman did not move. She needed a brief show of resistance for herself, just to regain her composure. Thinking that maybe she was making it too easy for this worm of an agent, she decided that he would have to ask her for her last garment.
And he did…The agent had to swallow before he spoke, his mouth having gone dry from excitement. In an annoyed, stern voice he croaked "Take off your underpants, now!".
A bit pleased with herself for still being able to make the man slightly nervous, Annemie slipped her fingers into the waistband of her panties and pushed them down over her bare hips. Her completely shaved, slightly protruding vulva was suddenly exposed to five sets of completely strange male eyes, her panties sliding down her legs and pooling around her ankles. She stood there like that for a full minute, stark naked, her fallen panties-containing a big “just in case” sanitary pad bunched around her ankles. The men stared in silence, mesmerized. Most had never seen a nude white woman. They drank in the glories of her naked body, her fiery red hair, her pale skin, her big saggy tits, her huge pink “white woman” nipples, and, most fascinating of all, the total absence of any pubic hair between her legs.
Letting her panties fall to the dirty floor may seem odd, but Annemie was trying to demonstrate, to both herself and the Africans, that she didn't care what they did, that nothing would faze her from now on. It was a gesture wasted on her tormentors, who were too focused on her nudity to even notice. The agent finally held out his hand and the now stark naked woman stepped out of her empty panties, picked them up, and silently handed them to the man, avoiding his eyes. He dropped them on top of her dirty socks.
The pile of Annemie's clothing was now complete. Everything she owned and had been wearing when she entered the room was now on or under the old wooden chair, leaving her completely in her birthday suit. She stood with her arms at her sides, making no attempt to cover her nudity as the soldiers ran their eyes over her bare body, laughing and commenting among themselves.She was painfully aware that the comments that were given weren’t all on the positive side, they were clearly making fun of the fact that gravity, two pregnancies and good living had taken their toll on her 49-year old body…
“We’re going to take a few photographs to add to your file”, the Captain said, “You will stand absolutely still and look directly to the camera while they are taken”.Annemie shuddered at the idea of being photographed by these men while completely naked, but at the same time she realized and knew that uttering ANY complaints about it would only lengthen her anguish and make the whole thing even worse for her and her son, so she stood perfectly still while one of the soldiers produced a digital camera and took about a dozen photo’s of her exposed naked front, back, left and right sides…She hoped the photo’s taken would never surface on the internet, the thought of her family and friends seeing her like this made her stomach sink.
Annemie's mind wandered, thinking about the role reversal of her situation. Instead of the white explorer or traveler encountering the scantily clad natives, here she was, a 49-year old white woman, completely naked in front of a group of fully clothed Africans.
"Now put your hands behind your head", the agent ordered abruptly. She did as he instructed, elbows out. Her audience laughed and watched as her large tits were raised and thrust forward, her bare pink nipples pointing right at them.
”Now slowly lift your tits, so we can see there’s nothing hidden underneath them”, the customs agent snarled, “one at a time”.Annemie obeyed, slowly taking hold of and lifting first her right 38DD breast, than the left one, showing the men nothing was conceiled under the big white globes.The soldiers were grinning like Cheshire cats.”Now lift the fat belly, quickly”, the man snarled…Truly red-faced for the first time since her ordeal had begun, a shamed Annemie complied, lifting the thick layer of fat on her belly so the men could see “nothing was hidden underneath”…
"Now hands back behind your head and legs wide apart" barked the agent. Annemie let loose of her belly, raised her arms again and shifted her legs so that her feet were shoulder width apart. The men's eyes instantly dropped to the middle-aged woman's naked crotch, where they could clearly see-due to the total absence of any covering pubic hair-her completely visible little pink slit.Annemie forced herself to remain detached. She wondered what her husband Robert was doing at this moment, and she was glad he didn’t have to see this humiliating spectacle…
Robert was sitting.
He too was trying to keep his mind blank. The thought of what might be happening to his wife behind the closed door, was too painful to contemplate. He was sunk in a morass of conflicting emotions. He wanted to protect his wife so badly, but the only way to do that was to sit here meekly and do nothing.
He consoled himself with the thought that whatever was being done to his Annemie in that room, it was better than what would happen to her if he resisted. Robert looked around the terminal. It was filling up with people for the flight out, but no one was at the counter to process them; all of the customs staff being in the search room, enjoying the show, he thought bitterly. Oddly, the other passengers did not seem upset or annoyed at the lack of organization. Robert guessed that in Ruanda, remaining docile was an important quality of the successful citizen. The threat of quick and brutal retaliation for anyone who stepped out of line was guaranteed, and he knew that included him and his wife. So he sat, and worried.
Inside the room, his now completely naked spouse stood and waited, legs still apart, and started to worry…How far were these thugs going to go with her, she wondered? Despite her resolve to remain detached, Annemie couldn't help but become increasingly aware of her complete nudity and vulnerability, and a wave of shame swept through her bare body. With great effort she managed to shake it off, just in time to hear her next instructions. "Slowly walk to the far wall and back, and keep walking up and down until I tell you to stop". Annemie turned and slowly walked towards the rear wall, the soldiers getting their first good look at her naked backside. All eyes were glued to the woman's bare ass, her fat, full ass cheeks wobbling lewdly with each step. Reaching the wall she turned and walked back towards the men, sluggishly swinging boobs and bald pussy embarrassingly on full display. The men watched like a pack of hungry wolves as they made her do at least ten or twelve back and forth trips, mimicking the wobbling of her soft belly, grinningly trying to decide which side of her they preferred. Finally the agent told her to stop, and she stood before them, naked and at at attention again, as told.
"Turn around", he ordered. She complied. "Bend over and spread your ass cheeks".
Annemie was not totally shocked.She was expecting something like this. Now they were getting down to the nitty-gritty of this whole charade. She turned her back on the men and spread her legs slightly. Taking a deep breath, she reached back, grabbed a full buttock in each hand, and bent forward at the waist, pulling her ass cheeks wide apart. 'I'm going to give them the full show', she thought through her anger, 'just so they'd shut their stupid mouths and look their fill'.
The agent and soldiers watched in a lusty stupor as the middle-aged naked tourist woman brazenly spread her bottom for them. The dark crease between her lush bum cheeks parted, revealing her puckered asshole. Annemie's crinkled anus was a deep reddish color, contrasting obscenely with the very pale hemispheres of her bare fanny and buttocks. The men stared long and hard. They had subjected many hapless victims to this humiliating routine, mostly males. This was their first white woman. They gazed in wonder, the time passing in silence.
Annemie's back and legs were starting to ache as she held the uncomfortable position. She could feel a slight breeze against her exposed anus, and though idly that maybe it was coming from the combined heavy breathing of all the men in the room. 'What a way to pass the time waiting for a flight', she thought sarcastically. Finally, reluctantly, the agent whispered "Stand up". The naked woman straightened up slowly, the men watching in fascination as her rosebud was again enfolded and hidden between the plump cheeks of her ample behind.
"Come over here, and quickly" the agent ordered as he walked to the old examination table. As Annemie followed him, her bare feet padding across the cool, dank floor, she was again feeling very naked. She glanced briefly at the Captain, watching her from his chair with cold eyes. He seemed the least interested in the proceedings, the least likely to do anything physical to her, yet he frightened her the most. Arriving at the table, she faced the customs agent, who made a point of looking her up and down before he spoke. "We will now do a full body cavity search" he said with a smirk on his lips. "Get on the table and lie on your back".
Annemie looked down at the table and shuddered. The old leather padding was scratched and torn. It was a mottled brownish color, covered with dark stains. She imagined that these were sweat stains from previous naked victims. Suppressing her revulsion, she climbed nakedly up on the table. As she lay back, she found that it was too short to stretch out on full length. With her head at one end of the table, she had to bend her knees almost straight up so that her feet could rest on the opposite end. She could fell the sharp edges of the rips and tears in the leather padding digging into the naked skin of her back and buttocks. "Spread your legs" the agent blurted out. She moved her feet carefully to the outer edges of the table and let her thighs fall wide open. Annemie knew that if she held anything back from these pigs now, they would just give her more orders, and she was thoroughly sick of hearing the agent's nauseating voice. She was determined not to feel shame-they were the guilty ones here.
Guilty though they might be, the agent and soldiers' focus was not on their misconduct but on the 49-year old nude redhead spreading her legs before them.The men watched hungrily as her bald, pink vulva slowly opened, exposing the velvety inner folds of her labia. Annemie glanced down towards the end of the table and found herself almost amused at the oddness of the view. Looking past her bare breasts, which were leaning outwards, her chubby, shaved pussy sprouted up at the base of her soft belly like some small, pink mountain between the V of her thighs. Crowded in a tight group between those thighs were four goggle-eyed men, framed by the V as if posing for a group portrait.
The moment stretched on. Annemie found herself actually getting bored. 'All right already', she mused, 'they've seen my cunt, big deal! I haven't got anything down there different from any other woman'.
But from the soldiers' point of view, it was a very big deal. The bald, white vagina with its soft, pink vaginal lips, glistening slightly, was to them a sight fit for the Gods. Annemie was fortunate that she could only see the men from the waist up. Had she been able to see the ominous bulges in the men's pants, she might have been more worried.
The agent reached into a drawer in the table and took out what looked like an old, rusty canister of cold cream and unscrewed the wide, round lid. With a leer of anticipation, he stuck his long, thin finger in the jar and pulled it out, coated with a nasty looking yellowish gel. Annemie understood what was coming. Looking up at the cracked ceiling, she braced herself, gripping the edges of the table and digging in her feet. Placing the palm of one hand firmly on her bare, shaved mound and spreading her inner lips with his fingers, the trembling agent slid his long, greased digit slowly into her open vagina. The soldiers watched in fascination and envy as the agent's finger disappeared completely into the woman's body. Keeping his finger all the way in, he rotated his hand to the left and then right, feeling the walls of her vaginal canal, his knuckles rubbing against her vagina’s inside. Annemie's eyes were squeezed shut against the intimate and uncomfortable intrusion.
The soldiers were now jabbering at the agent, who reluctantly withdrew his finger from the 49-year old woman's sex. It emerged with a soft, smacking sound. Annemie glanced down again and saw that the soldiers were jostling each other for position. With a shock she realized they were arguing over who would be next to finger her. She barely had time to comprehend this new development when the tallest man in the group won the argument.
With a grin at the others, he dipped his large finger in the grease and unceremoniously shoved it up Annemie's pussy to the hilt. She winced and let out a high yelp of surprise and pain. The man's finger, besides being very large, must have had a rough or cracked nail, and had scratched her going in. The bastard laughed at her discomfort, grinning idiotically, and began sawing his finger in and out of the humiliated woman's tender vagina. Annemie bit her lip and bore it, determined not to give him the satisfaction of crying out again. He finally pulled out with a loud, greasy smack and made a big show of sniffing his dripping finger, drawing laughs from the others. He had barely stepped away from the table when a second soldier took his place.
Annemie's now wide open vulva was glistening with grease, her belly and bare pubic mound smeared with it. Not bothering with the preliminaries, the new man brutally thrust a stubby, dirty digit into her open slit and held it there, felling the warm walls of her cunt clinging to his finger. A look of uncontrollable lust suddenly came into the man's eyes. He quickly jerked his finger painfully out of Annemie's pussy and began fumbling with his pants.
When she saw this and understood that she was about to be ****d, the chubby naked woman snapped out of her compliant role. Struggling to get up, she kicked out strongly with her naked legs, aiming at the would-be r****t.All those years of playing hockey in school finally paid off when she realized her strong kicks kept the man at bay-for now… Another soldier moved to hold her down, painfully grabbing her short hair and punching and grabbing her exposed tits, but just then she landed a powerful kick directly to the balls of her potential r****t. The man let out a loud scream and fell to the ground, doubled over in pain.
Suddenly the Captain was on his feet, shouting out a string of commands in the native language. The soldiers instantly froze, let go of Annemie and then came to attention, fear showing in their eyes. The man on the floor stopped groaning, probably more afraid than the rest. All was quiet in the room again. Even Annemie, naked and half sitting up, her breasts sore from the punches and her groin covered in grease, didn't move. The Captain's air of icy calm returned. He turned to her and said: "We will continue the search, but you will not be harmed". With a nod to the agent he resumed his seat. Annemie recognized that although the Captain had protected her, the man had no feelings of protectiveness towards her-she doubted if he had any feelings at all.
As for the Captain : he would let his men have a little fun with their strip search, at the same time teaching these haughty Belgian tourists a little humility. ****, however, might result in an official protest. Although President Amindala generally did not worry about such things, you never knew when something would annoy him, and he was a most unpleasant man when annoyed.
"Go on", he ordered the agent, who was so overcome with fear that, turning back to the table, he could not even appreciate the erotic vision stretched out before him. The 49-year old barenaked white woman still lay propped up on one elbow, sweating and breathing heavily from her struggles, her big belly and large, saggy naked breasts rising and falling with each labored breath.Her enormous pink nipples were totally erect and pointing straight forward due to the unwanted tension of the situation.Her bare legs were slightly apart, her still slightly spread bald vagina obscenely leaking slimy melted grease onto the worn brown leather table, a collected pool of which shimmered between her fat thighs.
"Almost finished now Miss", he announced politely, "one more procedure and then you will probably be free to go. Get down and turn around, facing the table." Annemie could hear a new tone of respect in the agent's voice. Her apparent lack of shame or fear in responding to their humiliating commands, combined with the effective fight she put up to defend herself when they tried to go too far had clearly marked her in their eyes as a woman to be reckoned with. As she slipped off the table, she noticed the man she had kicked, still not able to straighten up. A warm glow of inner satisfaction spread through her, somewhat making up for the feeling of the dank floor under her bare feet, and the knowledge of what was coming next.
"Bend over the table, legs apart" came the command, and she assumed the position, sticking her ass out defiantly. She was determined to take the worst they could dish out without a whimper, proud of her newfound toughness.
The men may have had a new measure of respect for the scrappy Belgian tourist, but they were not to be denied their fun. They were again leering hungrily at the sight of the chubby naked woman bent over the table, her bare white bottom shining at them. The agent dipped his finger once again into the can of grease and pulled it out, liberally coated with the yellowish goo. He stepped right up close to Annemie's rump as if he intended to mount her. Placing his hand on one of her bare bum cheeks, he spread it to the side, exposing her puckered anus to the soldiers who had crowded close to watch.
What happened next depended on who and where you were.
From the agent's viewpoint, standing right behind the naked woman, all was right with the world. He was filled with feelings of power and lust. What a strong, wonderful man he must be, able to order this posh European woman to strip completely naked and then submit to these humiliating procedures. Trembling with sexual excitement, his eyes locked on Annemie’s asshole, he brought his greased finger towards its intended target. He thrilled at the feeling of rubbery warmth as his fingertip lodged against her puckered rosebud. Pushing harder, the agent's long, black finger slid smoothly through the naked woman's clenching sphincter and on into the intimate, dark recesses of her rectum. He pushed the digit all the way in, until his fist was pressing up against Annemie's ass crack, her anus gripping the base of his finger tightly. The soldiers crowded round, laughing heartily, feasting their eyes on the obscene sight.
From Annemie's viewpoint, there wasn't much to see at all, only the grease-stained leather top of the examination table and the bare wall beyond. For her, the experience was one of feelings. First, the feeling of exposure from the degrading position she was forced to assume, displaying her bare ass to a group of strange men. As she bent over and her ass cheeks separated, she could once more feel the humid air on her exposed anus. Next, she felt the agent's sweaty palm on her left buttock. Expecting worse, she got it. A warm, slimy object nudged against her anal opening, pushed hard, and slid on into her rectum. Annemie's sphincter defensively tightened against the intruder, but the greasy finger was not to be denied. She could feel the man's knuckles as they glided past her clenching rosebud and she found herself thinking absurdly that they hadn't even been properly introduced…She willed herself to lie there passively, with a tushy full of finger, waiting for it to be over.
From her husband's viewpoint, there was nothing much to see or feel, except in his mind. He was vaguely aware of the people sitting patiently around him, the low murmur of African voices. He stared fixedly at the door to the back room, its' blank surface revealing nothing. He knew only that his wife was on the other side, in a room with five men, completely at their mercy. He couldn't help but knowing that the men would make Annemie undress and inspect her naked body. The least he could hope for is that they would do nothing worse. It was painful enough to realize that his middle-aged wife was probably nude on the other side of the door, the men seeing everything; but he was experiencing an even worse feeling. It was the feeling of being shut out, of being the only one involved who couldn't see her. Robert was somewhat ashamed of his desire to witness his wife's humiliation, but he couldn't deny the feeling, it was too powerful. Though he didn't know it, it was also a perfectly natural reaction to his situation. Those men did not deserve to be getting any free peeks or feels of his spouse.She was a very prim and proper Lady, and she didn’t deserve this…
Back inside the room, the greedy customs agent had now had his finger up Annemie's poor fundament for several minutes. He could feel the heat of her body radiating through her intestines as if he were taking her rectal temperature. Reluctantly, he pulled his finger slowly out of the woman's clinging anus. It exited with a soft, wet “plop”, which drew a big chuckle from the soldiers looking on.
'About time' Annemie thought, flooded with relief. Apart from being extremely inappropriate, the anal intrusion had not been particularly painful, but her back and legs were now aching from holding the awkward semi-kneeling position for so long. What was making her most uncomfortable at the moment however, was a pressing need to pee. Without asking permission she slowly straightened up, relieving the pain in her back and legs, and turned to face her tormentors. She was past caring about their seeing her nakedness, she just wanted to finish up and get to a bathroom. "I didn't say you could get up", snapped the agent. "One more man has to perform the rectal search", he explained, indicating the soldier who had not yet laid a hand on her.
Disbelief and rage flashed through her, but she quickly suppressed her emotions, determined to reveal nothing to the enemy. In a calculated act of rebellion, she actually took a step closer to the agent, her completely bare body only inches from his clothed one. Staring him right in the eye, her green eyes blazing, she stated in a calm but steely voice that would brook no refusal: "I need to go to the toilet, now!"
Taken totally off guard, the agent felt intimidated by the angry, naked woman. He might even have let her dress and leave, but he knew he could not completely surrender his authority in front of the Captain and the soldiers. Regaining some of his composure, he pointed to the metal grating of the drain, set in the middle of the floor, he was certain she would refuse such a degrading suggestion. Without a moments' hesitation, the naked red-haired woman marched over to the drain, turned facing the men and, straddling the grating, proceeded to squat and pee.
The soldiers stared in amazement at the sight of the chubby naked white woman shamelessly urinating in front of them. All eyes were glued to Annemie's crotch, where a steaming, yellow stream of piss was gushing from the middle-aged woman’s urethra. Annemie's pee made a hissing noise as it continued to pour forth strongly from between her bald pussylips, splashing on the metal grating and wetting her bare feet before trickling down the filthy drain. Finally, her seemingly endless stream began to weaken. The five males watched transfixed as the last few drops of urine dribbled out of the white woman's wet genitals.
Without a word, and without wiping herself, Annemie stood up, walked calmly back to the table, bent over, and spread her legs. The men were stunned and confused by the white woman's behavior. Though they of course enjoyed the unexpected treat of watching the still good looking 49-year old redheaded tourist take a piss right in front of them, they were put off by the new brazenness of her behavior. She was not acting cowed or intimidated, two of the basic requirements of a good strip search. She was taking some of the "fun" out of it.
Nevertheless, one more treat was in store for them, as the third soldier approached Annemie’s's naked backside. They all knew that this man had short but unusually thick fingers. Not bothering with the jar of lube, he placed the blunt tip of his fat finger against Annemie's already greased up asshole and shoved it forward mightily.
The tormented woman let out a yell, a long, drawn out "aaaaahhh!"… The men watched in fascination as her small, puckered anus stretched to accommodate the huge intruder, expanding from a crinkled red dot to a smooth and shiny wide ring of distended muscle, gripping the man's fat finger.
Annemie was trying to relax, to accustom herself to the monster lodged in her rectum, when the man began to crudely pump his digit in and out of her rear end.
Pain shot through her naked body as she fell helplessly forward across the table. She tried not to cry out, but the agony from the massive finger stretching and rubbing the tender flesh of her dilated anus was too much to bear. An unladylike grunt escaped her throat each time the brute pushed his finger in, followed by a low, cowlike bellow when he pulled out. The soldiers were practically drooling over the obscene sight of the naked white tourist's distended anal ring gripping the fat, black finger as it slid relentlessly in and out of her rectum, buggering her. Her grunts and moans were music to their ears.
Suddenly the Captain's voice shot across the room. "Enough!" he commanded-and it was over.
The soldier pulled his finger from Annemie's behind with a loud, wet “plop”. Her asshole, looking red and raw, remained open for a few seconds before slowly contracting to its normal puckered state. The room was quiet except for the heavy breathing of both the naked, middle-aged woman and the men. The quiet was suddenly broken as a now teary-eyed Annemie groaned and let loose with a long series of loud, wet farts, the soldiers laughing hysterically at her discomfort and humiliation, slapping each other’s backs .
"Get dressed Miss, you're free to go" announced the customs agent. He felt that he had done what was expected of him : that he and his assistants had thoroughly humiliated this prideful Belgian woman.
Annemie took a few more deep, healing breaths as she lay d****d across the table, her sore bare arse still pointing up, facing the smirking men. Disregarding the pain between her legs, she shakily stood up and, ignoring the men completely, walked over to the pile of her clothes. She picked up her panties, dirty from having fallen to the floor when she undressed, turned them around to find a clean spot, and used them to delicately wipe most of the grease from her raw cunt and ass. Then, throwing the panties on the floor, she put the rest of her clothes back on.
When Annemie was once again fully clothed : bulky shorts, safari jacket, heavy boots, baseball cap, she looked every bit as stylish and attractive as when she came in. Without a look back, she walked-with a slight limp-to the door and left the room, leaving the soldiers to marvel at her toughness, and maybe feeling a little ashamed at having treated such a decent woman so disgracefully.
Annemie didn't give the men another thought, they were beneath contempt. Entering the main terminal area, she saw her nervous husband, Robert, rise from his seat and threw herself into his waiting arms. "I'm fine", she whispered reassuringly, "I'll give you the gory details later.Maybe. Let's just go home".Robert, sensing her needs, asked no further questions, grateful to see her apparently unhurt. He quickly took charge of the situation and tenderly guided his wife through the rest of the airport procedures and onto the waiting plane. Annemie clung to his arm, lost in her own thoughts.
They had both been so sure of themselves, not realizing what a dangerous place the world could be. She had born the brunt of their punishment, but horrible as it had been, she had discovered just how strong she could be.
She was proud of the way she had handled herself. She had given in when she knew she must, to protect herself and her husband, but had maintained at least some of her dignity. She had not acted like some helpless ninny, and was enormously proud of fighting off the man who had tried to **** her. Most of all, she was determined to put the whole, distasteful incident behind her. Not that it excuses the men, but the things that were done to her were not so unusual. They were just the things that such men do when given power over women: undress them and stick their fingers into various orifices. Not very original when you think about it. She would not be traumatized, she was stronger than that. She had a wonderful, loving husband, and a good life to get back to.
Annemie was suddenly aware that they were on the plane already, flying over the trees and scrub, headed back to safety and civilization. Looking out of her window, she found herself thinking what a beautiful country this really was. Maybe, if the government changed, they would come back here someday.
A brief spasm of pain shot through her sore asshole, followed by a series of small farts.She smelled grease.
Then again, maybe not.
Stevie
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