She was drawing attention. She was crossing the floor at the airport, heading toward the security check line. She was tall, very tall, close to 2 meters. She was wearing a long black PVC trench coat, dragging the floor. Her pace was regular, yet not very fast. She seemed to almost be floating over the floor.
The long trench coat was rather loose fitting but the belt at her waist, drawn tightly, revealed quite a tiny waist.
She had soft make-up, and her curly brown hairs were floating on top of the PVC coated shoulders, down to mid-back.
She took her rank in line. She had nothing else than a small hand bag, which she was holding with shiny black gloves. When it was her turn, she put the bag on the conveyor belt of the X-Ray machine and walked-on.
“Oh, miss.” quickly intervened the security agent. “You have to take your trench coat off and put it on the belt. Same with your shoes, belt and anything that might be in your pocket.”
He had said that rather coldly. Well, it wasn’t the first time, and it wasn’t the last time he was to say it within his work-shift.
“Oh, sorry officer” answered the woman with a soft spoken voice, undoing the belt of her jacket, which literally slid off her shoulders toward the floor, while she grabbed it with her hands as it fell, in a very well rehearsed maneuver, getting up on one arm and quickly folding it perfectly in three, before putting in on the belt.
The officer mouth opened, as he saw, standing tall in front of him, this woman, clad in a tight and shiny latex catsuit, waist highly compressed by a leather corset, a leather strap going front to back between her legs, those long legs ending in knee high kid leather ballet toe boots.
“Nothing to hide, officer.” calmly said the woman, while walking in the metal detector booth.
The guard on the other side of the metal detection booth, a woman, looked shocked, staring at this curvaceous woman in shiny rubber. The alarm sounded.
“You have to take your… boots off.” she said, not really believing what she was seeing, “and your belt… corset.”
The woman smiled.
“I would like to, officer,” she calmly said, “but as you can see, they’re locked on. I’m sure the metal detector got off because the corset has steel boning, and the heel of my boots are also steel. But I assure you, I can’t hide anything in this.” she said, casually opening her arm.
Three small padlocks could be seen along the back of the corset, as well as locked leather cuffs around her ankles. It was evident that the suit was clinging to her skin, but rules are rules. The officer scanned her with a hand held metal detector, which beeped at her heels, waist and… crotch.
“Well… follow me, miss… Karen.” she said, looking at her passport. “there’s still place for smuggling in there.” she said, giving a quick look at her crotch.
There was a murmur in the lines of people when they saw Karen being escorted for a more thorough search. Karen followed, walking gracefully, moving her body with soft fluid moves, the harsh light of the airport reflecting on her shiny suit. She was led behind more doors, and instructed to go to an isolation booth.
The officer who had stopped her was waiting for another officer to accompany her. One was on her way when another one ran to her. The younger one continued while the other turned around.
“I’d really like to see that.” she said to the questioning officer.
They entered the booth. One officer was to conduct the search, the other to witness. Standard procedures.
“You appear to have something in your private parts. Please, remove the belt. It doesn’t appear to be… locked.” she said.
“Oh, no, it’s not locked, for such an incident.” said Karen, taking the belt buckle, pulling hard on it, as it was on the tightest possible notch, biting her lip while letting out a soft moan, before slowly pulling the belt off, revealing two huge dildos, apparently vibrating.”
“What the fuck…” said the first officer. The young one simply looked, not saying a word, but evidently very eager to learn.
“They’re simple vibrating dildos. Your metal detector sensed the small motors and batteries. That’s all. Don’t worry about the hygiene standards, the suit has pouches, so they didn’t touch my fluids.” said Karen, as if she was talking about a pair of glasses.
With gloved hands, the first guard looked at them with wide eyes, getting impressed at the size they were. The young guard had a look and seemed more inclined at learning about them than looking for something illegal.
“Well, not much place left for… anything else.” she said. “Where are you going?”
“To see my best friend, a two hours flight from here.” said Karen. “She has the… keys.” she said with an obvious sexy smile.
The young guard was looking through her bag who has raised suspicion on the X-Ray machine. She got out the basic hygiene items, a few packs of batteries and two velvet pouches, one with 2 padlocks and one with 7 more small padlocks, all opened, but with no key. The bag of seven had a red dot on them, while the other two had a blue dot.
“What are these for?” asked the guard.
“Oh, easy,” said Karen, showing the lock on her right leg, which bears the blue dot. “The keys of those locks are with my friend. Once the security control will be done, I will lock my dildos in place with the two remaining blue locks. The keys of the red locks are at my home. They’re for the return trip, in two days. See? Nothing illegal, here. Just having some fun.”
“Oh, quite a plan.” said the youngest one.
The dildos were examined and nothing was found. They were in awe when Karen pushed them back in, moaning, then, after confirming that it was the last of the security check, added the two remaining locks.
“Well, I still have a plane to catch.” said Karen, putting her long trench coat back on.
The officers let her go. There was nothing illegal. Unusual, but not illegal. She walked away. It’s as if she was gliding on the floor.
“Well, I saw weird ones in my career.” said the first guard, “but that one tops them all.”
“It’s not that weir…” said the young one, who cut it short when the first guard turned to her.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Oh… nothing.” she said. “Well… err… better go now.” she quickly said, putting back in place the microphone of her walkie-talkie accidentally undoing the first button of her shirt in the process, sowing a small patch of very shiny black… something.”
“Wait!” said the first one. “Lynda? What the heck was that?…
© Pete / monsterp63, April 30, 2016.
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