(This is a work of fiction, written by me but not related to any real events).
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I hated the airport. I didn't like flying, but it was the only way I could travel to see my family. Due to a crime I had committed in my teen years, there was a special note on my passport that stated that there was a legal requirement to search me thoroughly. I was 21 now and every flight, they searched me before and after. Thoroughly. At least this summer break, I was meeting my family in a state I didn't live in. We were going to stay with my uncle in his big beach house and it was going to be awesome to soak up the sun. That was the only thing getting me through this stupid airport experience.
When I showed my passport and ticket to the person working the desk, the expected happened. They gestured for a security guard to come over and escort me to the appropriate area for my mandatory search. I was told to sit down and wait, which I did for ten minutes. Three security guards returned, one of them grabbing my luggage while one of them produced handcuffs. That was new, the surprise evident on my face. He rolled his eyes, as if this was totally normal -- I had been here four months ago and I hadn't been handcuffed that time.
"Is this a new procedure?" I asked. He nodded, so I put my hands forward. He cuffed them, before using the cuffs to pull me up out of the chair. I was guided down a hallway, away from the eyes of other members of the public. At least, that's what I thought. The room I ended up in had a big glass wall, letting the busiest part of the airport see in. I knew they could see in because someone noticed us entering, nudged his friend, and pointed right at me. They were watching curiously. I swear, this room wasn't here last time.
The guard who had cuffed me, a tall man with muscles that were bigger than my head, uncuffed me again as the two other guards -- a woman with blonde hair and another man with a big beard -- put my luggage on a long table. They wasted no time opening all of my bags and beginning their search, one item at a time. I looked up at the strong guard as he set the handcuffs down on a table in the middle of the room.
"Take off everything you're wearing, put it all in this tray." He instructed. I took off my sandals and put them in the tray first, then unzipped my dress. I had chosen this dress in preparation for the southern west coast heat. I shimmied it down my body, my cheeks lighting up as I ignored the glass wall, and folded my dress neatly before placing it in the tray. There was an awkward pause.
"I said everything." The guard told me, and my eyes widened. My bra and panties? I hesitated, but I reached back and unhooked my bra, using my arm to cover my breasts. I was pretty gifted in that area, having a natural set of double d's, but that didn't mean I wanted the whole airport to see. I put the bra in the tray, then realised I needed both hands for my panties.
They were a pair of plain white boyshorts, and I turned by back to the window as I hooked both thumbs into the elastic at either hip, pushing them down to my ankles and stepping out of them. I heard a few whistles from behind me, a few jeers -- I couldn't imagine how many people were looking at my ass right now. I dropped my panties onto the tray. The blonde woman approached and took the tray over to another table, starting to examine the clothing.
The strong guard pats the table. "Sit." He orders. I hesitantly sit on the table -- I'm facing the window, though I keep my eyes on the floor. The guard stands at an angle, letting the airport view me as he puts on a pair of gloves, starting his search with my head. His hand forced my head up, and instinctively, I opened my mouth. His fingers pushed in, moving around every inch. When he was satisfied I had nothing in my mouth, he pulled his fingers out and wiped them on my cheeks.