Attention free porn video

This is my original work, originally published on another site. Enjoy! *hugs*
Stacey_tv

Attention

"There's a small matter that requires your attention, Mr. Wilson," the
airport screener said in heavily accented English. My stomach churned.
These were never good words to hear while clearing customs. "It shouldn't
take long to clear up. Right this way, please." He directed me to an
unmarked door with a security keypad on the wall.

My travel habits had changed considerably since 9-11. Knowing how closely
all luggage was screened, what I packed for my trips had diminished and was
more carefully thought out. That was really why I preferred driving to my
destinations whenever possible--my bags were always safely in my
possession. International travel, however, remained a pain and though my
job didn't require a lot of it, longer trips always heightened my
temptation. With this one being three weeks long, I had given in to that
temptation in a big way this trip.

He led me down a drab and dimly lit hall. There were signs beside some of
the doorways, but since I didn't read Arabic, they did me little good.
"Here, please," he said again, indicating a half-open door on the left.
When I pushed open the door my worst fears were realized. Two uniformed
men stood behind a long narrow table. My bags were open and the contents
were spread out all over. One pile nearest the door was the immediate
focus of my attention--and no doubt theirs, too; it was a pile of multi-
colored satin and lace lingerie with a few sex toys placed prominently on
top. The door closed behind me as a third uniformed man stood up behind a
desk in the corner.

"We have a small problem, Mr. Wilson," the uniformed man behind the desk
said. "Please, have a seat." As I moved woodenly to the offered chair, I
could feel my heart trying to pound its way out of my chest. One of the
other men unceremoniously deposited the collection of lingerie and sex toys
on the desk between us.

"We have purity laws in my country, Mr. Wilson," he began. "Men who come
here with the intention of defiling our women are not welcome."

"I never...," I started to say, but was interrupted.

"There can be no other explanation!" he continued. "Why else would a
businessman travel with such things?"

"Y- y- you see," I stammered, "It must have been my wife...." My voice
trailed off, the hollow excuse dying in my throat.

"One or two things, tucked away in a side pocket, perhaps, Mr. Wilson; but
a quantity such as this? Not plausible."

"Well, she probably did it as a joke, hoping something like this would
happen to embarrass me... ," I tried again. He snapped his fingers and the
same guy who brought the lingerie over deposited a zip-loc bag of makeup
and a pair of black patent high heeled shoes.

"Again," he said, "not plausible. Who were you planning to meet? Who is
your contact that is setting you up with one of our women? These are
serious charges."

"No," I said again. I could feel a lump forming in my throat. "I would
never...." I was either going to be in a lot of trouble or have to tell the
truth. I opted for the truth.

"They're mine," I said softly.

"What?"

"I said they're mine," I croaked a little louder. I could feel the blood
rushing to my face.

"Again, Mr. Wilson, not plausible."

"It's true," I said. "I like to wear women's lingerie. I'm a cross-
dresser."

"Then what," he asked as he held up one of the sex toys, "is this for?" It
was my Doc Johnson medium Pleasure Plug. It was about 4 inches long and
had a realistic look and feel. At its widest point just below the pink
circumcised head it was about 1 1/4 inches wide.

"It's a butt plug," I said matter-of-factly. He said something in Arabic
to the one who had brought my things to the desk, who replied in a matter-
of-fact tone.

"So you use this," he made a motion with it, "up 'there?' " I felt my face
flush again.

"Yes." More Arabic passed between the two men, with the third interjecting
something.

"And this," he held up another larger toy, "is the same thing?" It was my
other Doc Johnson toy, the Thick Tool. It was nearly 8 inches long and 2
inches wide with a well-defined head and bulging veins.

"Well, I use one to loosen myself up and the other," I pointed to the toys
smallest to largest, "to pleasure myself with."

"So you are a homosexual? Gay?"

"No, more like, well, bi-sexual, I guess. I've never really tried to
classify myself." Again, more Arabic.

"So, when you are dressed in this," he hoisted a fistful of lingerie, "you
like to be treated like a girl?"

"Yes, sometimes," I answered. A more lengthy discussion in Arabic ensued,
with all three of them speaking in turns, but with the "boss" carrying most
of the conversation. It got a little loud for a bit and then the boss had
the final word.

"An all too-convenient and convincing story, Mr. Wilson. My two associates
here were easily swayed by your well-prepared and obviously well-rehearsed
fabrication. I need to know who your contact is. Who are you meeting with
to set up your meetings with our women?"

"What?" I said, incredulous. "After I bare my innermost embarrassing
secrets to three complete strangers you think it was all made up; a cover
story?"

"Exactly. Your denial makes me even more sure. You are going to tell me
the truth or you are going to be in a lot of trouble. Our prisons are not
nice places for Americans."

"You want proof?" I asked, now desperate. He raised an eyebrow.

"Proof? What do you mean?"

"I mean proof. In my country when we call someone's bluff, we say 'prove
it.' I'll prove I'm not lying." Another long discussion between the three
followed. This time it appeared to be a much more lively debate. When it
ended the third man crossed the room to the door and slid a heavy metal bar
in place with an ominous grating sound, barring the door to outside
intrusion. My eye was drawn to the slight bulge in the front of his
uniform pants. The supervisor stood up.

"Prove it," he said.

"Just what did you have in mind?" I asked. Any other time I normally wear
panties and would have been happy to just stand up and reveal them, but for
trips such as this, I avoided it.

"The burden of proof here lies with the accused," he said matter-of-factly.
He gestured to a hospital screen in the corner. "Prove it." His intent
was fairly clear; he wanted me to put on some of the lingerie.

I quickly picked through the jumble of satin and lace selecting a few
specific items, liberating a pair of stockings and grabbing the high heels
before heading for the corner. Once again I could feel the burning flush
of my embarrassment, this time coupled with a racing pulse of excitement.

Behind the screen I quickly stripped out of my mundane clothes. I started
with the bra, a black and pink number that was my current favorite. Foiled
pin-dot mesh over the "Bombshell Pink" satin gave it an exotic look and the
underwire cups were accented with rhinestones and had a black satin bow
nestled between them. I fastened it behind my back with practiced ease
despite my trembling hands.

The panties came next. They were a bikini-style front with black lace over
the same pink satin accented with a small black bow centered on the
waistband. The back, however, was a spectacularly sexy caged back with a
wide black satin bow accent right where my ass crack began. The caged back
not only showed off my sexy ass, it also provided easy access to both my
ass and cock, as the panties were also crotchless. My hands were trembling
less, but I could feel my cock getting harder as the cool satin slipped up
my legs and nestled my smooth shaved balls.

I reached into the toes of the shoes and pulled out my breast forms. They
weren't proper breast forms; rather they were breast "enhancers." I had
bought them in queen size (a little private joke?) so they filled my bra
out nicely. I chose this specific pair because they were 100% silicon so
they felt and moved like real breasts. They also had well-formed nipples
with brown areole that looked great in sheer bras. They were shaped so
that they could be adhered with tape, but I didn't have time for such
niceties at the moment. I tucked the forms into my bra, cupping and
bouncing them a few times to make sure they were situated for maximum
effect.

The matching garter belt, the same foiled pin-dot mesh over bombshell pink
as the bra, followed. Only the immediate front panel was pink, the side
panels were done in dotted sheer black mesh. A band of black satin topped
the 2-inch wide ruffle of the same dotted black mesh that circled the belt.
Black satin ribbons--the same size as the one on the bra--trimmed both ends
of the garter straps.

I separated the lace-topped RHT seamed stockings, rolling them up my legs
with an experienced hand and fastening them to the garters. I checked to
make sure my seams were straight, making adjustments as best I could
without the benefit of a mirror, and then stepped into the black patent
leather high heels. They were Dorsey style with a 1/4-inch ankle strap.
By the time I finished all of this my cock was quite stiff. I briefly
considered attempting to tuck it, but I had already decided they needed to
see me in my cross-dressed glory, bulge and all.

My heels clicked erotically on the tile floor as I walked to the edge of
the screen. The sound of my heels set off a low murmuring in Arabic that
slowly faded as I paused to peek around the screen. The "boss" had moved
around to the front of his desk but was sitting on the corner next to the
pile of my remaining things. The remaining two were on opposite sides of
the narrow metal table that held my other open bags. They were looking
expectantly in the direction of the screen. I saw one of the two adjusting
himself.

I took a small measure of courage from their uncertainty, took a deep
cleansing breath, put on my best sassy face and strutted out from behind
the curtain. I walked over and stood in front of the boss, my right hand
on my outthrust hip.

"Well," I said, "satisfied?"

"Satisfied that you know how to put on womens' clothing, yes. Assured that
your story is accurate, no."

My mind boggled. I thought the speed with which I affected my
transformation would have been proof enough. I realized my mouth was
hanging open in surprise and closed it.

"What then?" I said, more than a little deflated. He nodded down at the
remaining items on the desk. It suddenly dawned on me what he wanted--the
dirty bugger wanted to see me using the sex toys on myself!

I opened my makeup bag and took out the small bottle of Astroglide. If he
wanted a sex show, I was going to give him one. I pulled out the tube of
Kate Spade New York's Pucker Up--in sexy "Adventure Red"--and applied a
quick and generous coat to my pursed lips just for good measure.

I picked up the Pleasure Plug first. With its' ultra-realistic look and
feel, it would certainly make my point. I turned and perched on the
opposite corner of the desk from the boss, looking directly into the eyes
of the guy with the biggest bulge in his pants. I licked my lips and ran
my tongue up the underside of the rubber cock, circling the head when I got
there. I held his gaze as I opened my mouth, flattened out my tongue, and
easily slid the entire length of the butt plug into it; closing my lips
around the indented base.

"Mmmmmmmm," was all I managed. I slurped loudly as I pulled it out, but
then slipped it right back between my lips, working the shaft in and out of
my mouth. Leaving the rubber cock in my mouth I picked up the Thick Tool--
which was less realistic-looking but longer and wider--and the Astroglide
and walked over to the other table.

I pulled the Pleasure Plug from my mouth long enough to say, "Make some
room for me here, guys?" as I gestured at the suitcases on the metal table.
Each of them closed a bag, but the one with the tent in the front of his
pants removed them both from the table with efficient speed.

I put the other toy and lube down as I bent over the table, reaching behind
me to pull the middle string of the cage-back panties from my ass as I
continued slurping noisily on the Pleasure Plug. I opened the Astroglide,
squeezed some onto my fingers and spread it liberally on my puckered hole,
pushing some of it inside. I removed the plug from my mouth, squeezed more
lube into my hand, and applied it to the plug, sliding my hand up and down
the short shaft like I was jacking it off.

I placed the plug against my asshole and pushed. I had had this particular
toy up my ass so often, I knew exactly what to expect. I savored the
expected pressure as the well-formed head of the cock stretched my ass open
and popped inside. That was almost my favorite feeling in the world--that
first moment of penetration. I let out an almost involuntary moan.

My favorite feeling was what came next. The shaft of the Pleasure Plug was
slightly wider than the head and took just that little bit of extra effort
to keep going. I pushed, enjoying the extra width. Just when I reached
that point of wondering just how long it really was, I felt my asshole
start to close on the tapered end. I wasn't ready for it that feeling to
end, so I pulled it back out and slowly inserted it again. I enjoyed each
bump and bulge a few more times before finally giving it that last little
push, letting my hole clamp down on the plug. I picked up the Thick Tool.

"Mmmmm, now that feels better," I said. I started licking the wide head of
the other plug, and then began to take it into my mouth, again making loud
slurping sounds as I sucked the rubber cock. I wriggled my ass as I bent
over the table, finally looking over my shoulder back at the boss.

"Seen enough," I asked, "or do you still think this is a carefully crafted
story?" I thought I saw a flicker of desire cross his face just briefly.
He spoke in Arabic to the other two. Both of the guys standing closest to
me now had tents in the front of their pants. I turned and resumed sucking
on the Thick Tool, this time alternating looking up at the closest two guys
as my head bobbed up and down on it.

After a few minutes of teasing them both, I zeroed in on the one who had
been fighting his hard-on since I got in the room and locked eyes with him.
"This would be a lot more satisfying if it were a real cock," I said. "Do
your laws prevent you from slipping your cock into my warm and willing
mouth?" The man I was looking at asked a question of the boss--in Arabic,
of course. I glanced over my shoulder at the boss, and he made a non-
committal gesture and answered with a short reply. Whatever had been asked
and answered, I heard the zipper go down before I could even turn back
around.

As I turned, my lips brushed against his hard cock which was now in front
of my face. It was circumcised, which surprised me, but that didn't stop
me from instinctively opening my mouth to take him inside. He groaned
aloud as I closed my lips and started sucking his cock.

"It would mean certain disgrace and possibly death for a Muslim man to make
use of you," the boss said, "but Haroun, as a Copt, isn't restrained by our
laws."

Haroun grabbed the back of my head and pulled my mouth on and off his cock.
It was a beautiful 8-9 inches long with a wide helmet-shaped head. The
head and first inch or so was a bright pink that contrasted sharply against
his dark skin. It glistened with my saliva as he plugged my mouth with it.

I steadied myself on one elbow as my free hand clawed at the Pleasure Plug
in my ass, pulling it out and letting it drop to the floor. I plunged the
Thick Tool all the way into my hungry ass with no additional lubrication,
loving how full it made my ass feel. I did all of this while Haroun was
still fucking my face, and I loved every depraved minute of it. I moaned
loudly around the cock in my mouth.

Haroun let go of my head just long enough to drop his pants. I slurped
noisily on the head of his cock before trying to get it all in my throat.
I gagged and coughed as the large head hit the back of my throat. I heard
another zipper and glanced at the other man still standing, riveted to the
spot on my right side. I was, again, surprised to see him stroking a
circumcised cock. I reached out my hand to stroke it for him, but he
quickly pulled away, saying something in Arabic. He was obviously content
to watch and masturbate.

"Ziyad has no desire to be made impure or to be flogged," the boss said.
"He said, 'Don't touch me.' " I shrugged and returned my full attention to
the cock still in my mouth.

Haroun's hands returned to my head, guiding my mouth. He had obviously
decided to help me get his cock down my throat as he pulled my mouth onto
his cock and pushed against the back of my throat. I gagged some more. I
tried again and again and again. Finally I decided to try a different
approach.

I released Haroun's cock and stood up. The look of disappointment on his
face was immediate. I hopped up on the metal table--it was not quite
waist-high--and lay down on my back with my head hanging off the end. A
devilish smile crept over Haroun's face as he quickly grasped my intent.
As he moved into position I took a deep breath and opened my mouth wide.

He plunged into my mouth, grasping both sides of my head. He hit the back
of my throat and kept pushing. I gagged again, but this time I shifted my
position to open my throat. He pushed past my gag reflex and buried his
cock in my throat. He crowed in triumph as his balls--musky-smelling and
hairy--mashed against my face with my nose between them. I felt my own
cock stir in my panties as I inhaled his manly scent. I reached up and
grasped his hips, pushing him back slightly. Again, he had no trouble
figuring out what I wanted, and started to hump my face with short strokes.

His hands moved from the sides of my head to my tits and he held on to them
as his strokes lengthened and he fucked my mouth. The first few times he
pulled all the way out of my throat it took some effort (and more gagging)
to get his cock all the way back in, but soon we had the angle just
perfect. Just as we were getting into a good rhythm, Ziyad suddenly barked
something at Haroun in Arabic.

Haroun immediately pulled his cock from my mouth and shuffled back away
from me. Before I had time to even realize what was happening Ziyad had
moved into place before my open mouth. His hard cock was slick and
glistening with pre-cum and he was stroking it quickly. Not thinking, I
reached for him again, and once more he pulled away. His cock was still
pointing directly at my mouth, and his strained voice said something I
couldn't understand. His meaning, however, suddenly became quite clear.

I put my arms at my sides, leaving my head off the end of the table and my
mouth wide open. "Aren't you the nasty one," I said, hardly believing my
audacity. "You don't want to defile yourself by touching me, but you'll be
happy to shoot your nasty load of cum in my mouth and all over my face."

His pace quickened. I was so close I could easily hear the *squish-squish*
of his hand pumping his sticky cock vigorously. "C'mon, Ziyad," I urged
him, "Do it! Shoot your hot nasty cum into my slutty American mouth. Jack
off all over my face. Give me your hot sloppy load, Ziyad!" He began
muttering something over and over, and I didn't need to know any Arabic to
know what was next.

He stopped pumping his cock and grasped the base of his shaft hard. He
leaned forward, his cock less than an inch from my open mouth. With a
final cry, he came. Oh my God, did he come! The stream of cum was
constant, punctuated by the spasms of his orgasm which resulted in even
mightier spurts. It seemed more like he was pissing.

I wasn't prepared for the volume of cum he shot into my waiting mouth, nor
was I in the best position to accommodate it. If I had been able to close
my mouth around his cock I might have made it. As it was I swallowed as
much as I could and did my best to just not drown! Cum ran out of my mouth
and into my nose, causing me to choke. Cum ran around my nose and into my
eyes and hair. When he finally stopped coming and stepped back one last
string of cum connected my face with his cock. He gave his cock a final
stroke and squeeze and the last string slapped wetly against my left cheek
as it detached from his shaft.

I was a cum-covered mess! I rolled over and off the table, but immediately
bent back over it, resting on my elbows facing the boss. "Seen enough?" I
asked as I wiped some of the cum from my eyes and face and licked my
fingers clean. "Or maybe you need to see me really treated like a girl?"
He leaned against his desk in stony silence.

Haroun stepped between us and presented his cock to me to resume sucking.
I shook my head no and instead grasped his cock and pulled him toward the
end of the table. He didn't need a translator to get my message. I pulled
the Thick Tool from my ass, letting it fall to the floor and Haroun stepped
up behind me.

I felt his rough hands grasp my hips and the head of his cock resting
against my gaping hole. I handed the bottle of Astroglide behind me,
keeping my eyes locked on the boss'. "Fuck me," I said to Haroun. "Fuck
me like the dirty American slut that I am. Shove you big fat cock inside
me and use my ass like a pussy."

As I was talking, Haroun lubed up his shaft. I reached down inside my
panties and adjusted my own hard cock and balls so that they were hanging
out through the open crotch. Haroun placed one hand on my waist as he
lined his cock up with my eager asshole. As soon as I felt the head press
between my ass cheeks I pushed back.

The butt plugs had done their job well. Haroun's cock stretched me open,
but he penetrated me without a lot of difficulty. I moaned as the wide
head pressed through my tight ring. I kept my eyes on the boss. "Ohhhhhh,
yeah. Give it to me, Haroun. Give me all of that cock." With both hands
now on my waist, Haroun drove half of his cock inside me. I moaned even
more. He pulled back until I could just feel the head inside me before
plunging his entire length into me.

"Mmmmmmmmmmm. I can feel your balls against mine," I said. "Fuck me with
your big beautiful cock. Fuck me hard, Haroun. Fuck me!"

Haroun did fuck me then, driving his hard cock in and out of my hungry ass.
He varied his pace as he fucked me, sometimes humping me with short
strokes--grinding his balls against mine, sometimes pulling completely out
before ramming himself balls-deep inside of me. Mostly he just fucked me
kind of regular, the rhythmic *slap-slap* as he plowed into me time and
again echoing in the bare room--making my own cock and balls sway in time
with his powerful thrusts.

As Haroun fucked me, Ziyad resumed stroking his cock and it quickly became
hard once more. I encouraged both Haroun and Ziyad, urging them both to
give me a hot load of cum; but I kept my eyes on the boss. I suspected the
live sex show was starting to have an effect on him, and I was a little bit
anxious to see how my situation would play out.

Suddenly, Haroun's pace quickened. He gripped my hips tightly, his
fingernails digging into my flesh. His breathing became ragged and I knew
he was close. "C'mon, baby... give it to me... Ummmm... Yeah... Give me...
that big... load... of hot... cum," I said, punctuating his final thrusts.

He gave one last great push and shoved his cock as deep as it would go up
my ass. With a low moan he came. I felt the heat and wetness deep inside
me as he emptied his balls. I felt his balls--pressed against mine--pulse
with each spurt.

Just as he was spent and I thought he might collapse on top of me, Ziyad
pulled him back and out of me by the shoulder. He stepped between my wide-
splayed legs and pointed his cock at my gaping hole. I decided to coax
every drop I could from him. I reached back and spread my ass.

"Still want more?" I teased. I wriggled a bit and I could feel Haroun's
cum starting to ooze from my well-fucked ass. "Give me another load of
your sweet cum. Shoot your load in my wide-open ass and all over my sissy
cock and balls!"

Ziyad handled his cock in the exact same manner as the first time--getting
as close to me as possible to shoot his load but not stroking it at the
moment of orgasm. I couldn't imagine after the load he had shot in my
mouth earlier that he had much left. Was I ever wrong!

He groaned--louder than the last time--as he spewed another large load. It
was nothing like the first load, but it was still a lot of cum. I felt the
first few mighty spurts hit in and around my asshole. The next few landed
just below my ass and ran down over my balls. He continued coming and
shooting all over me. When he was finally finished my ass, asshole and
cock were dripping with a mixture of his cum and Haroun's load that was
still oozing out of me.

I slumped onto the table, a satisfied sticky mess. I felt the cum from my
ass continue to run down my thighs and the cum on my face had become a
dried crust. I heard my two sperm donors putting themselves back together.
The boss still leaned against his desk. When the other two were dressed he
barked something at them, still saying nothing to me.

Haroun and Ziyad approached the table and each of them grabbed one of my
arms and dragged me half-walking and half on my knees across the room. He
barked another order and they deposited me at his feet and pushed hard on
my shoulders so that I was on my knees in front of him. He stood up, not a
tall man, but still an imposing figure from my vantage point.

"What is your name?" he asked me.

"You know my name. It's right there on my passport on your desk."

"No, what is your name?" he said, emphasizing the word "your" as he
gestured to include my whole body. "As I understand it, men like you
sometimes call yourself by a woman's name when you are dressed up." I was
completely surprised by this sudden change of tactic.

"Stacey," I said softly, almost embarrassed. Weird how the mind works, I
suddenly thought--here I am dressed in lingerie and covered in cum from the
top of my head to my freshly-fucked ass and revealing my "t-girl" name is
what I find embarrassing.

He stood, silent for a moment, before reaching down and unzipping his
pants. He pulled out his half-hard cock and began to stroke it, releasing
his balls from their confinement as well. I was eye-level with his balls
and watched, fascinated, as he jerked his circumcised cock. I opened my
mouth to say something, but instead was shouted down.

"Silence, Stacey!"

I knelt before him and watched him jerk himself off. As his strokes got
faster and faster, his breathing got more ragged. When I thought he was
just about ready to explode, I started to say something again, and was
again shouted down.

"Shut your mouth, Stacey!"

I stopped trying to speak, but left my mouth open to receive his cum. He
was close now, but again said, "Stacey, shut your mouth."

Now that I clearly understood his intention, I looked up, closing my mouth
and presenting him my upturned face to deposit his load on. He seemed
satisfied with my response and took himself over the edge. He handled his
cock just the way Ziyad had. Just before he came, he stopped stroking and
gripped the base hard.

He moaned softly as his climax began. He shot his cum all over my face.
His load was certainly not as huge as Ziyad's had been, but he still
covered my face pretty well. His first spurt crossed the bridge of my nose
all the way up to my forehead above my right eye. His second spurt hit my
right cheek and eye, causing me to shut my eyes. Spurt after spurt kept
raining down on my face. I had cum over both eyes, on my cheeks, on my
mouth and chin, and on my forehead by the time he was finished.

"Look at me, Stacey," he said. I opened my eyes, blinking frequently, and
looked up at him through a haze of his own cum. A sudden flash went off,
and I realized he had just taken my picture. I licked my lips, tasting his
cum for the first time.

"What the hell... ," I started to say.

"It's for your file," he said simply. "I think you have sufficiently
convinced me your story is not fabricated, Mr. Wilson. You are free to
go."

"File? What file?" I asked.

"To be sure you aren't improperly detained again," he said.

"You're actually going to post that picture somewhere? Stacey's picture?
Somewhere with my name attached to it?"

"We are done here. You are free to go." He stood up and walked to the
door. "When you have collected your things you will exit down the hallway
to your left. Enjoy your stay in our country, Mr. Wilson."

The bar securing the door was released and they exited to the right,
leaving me in a puddle of cum on the floor.

======================== Fast-forward three weeks ========================

As I made my way through customs in the international terminal at the
Atlanta airport, the screener, a young black man, scanned my passport. He
looked closely at his screen.

"There's a small matter that requires your attention, Mr. Wilson," he said.

Twenty minutes later, I was dressed in crotchless panties made of black and
pink floral lace with attached garters and a matching push-up bra. My
legs, encased in seamed stockings, were over the shoulders of a young black
stud who had his big black cock buried balls-deep inside me--fucking my ass
missionary style on a low table. My head hung over the edge making it easy
for another black stud to fill my mouth with even more black cock while I
stroked two more with my free hands.

I don't know what that guy put in my file, but I am never "improperly"
detained anymore