Honeymoon From Hell

This is my first effort at writing this type of material. It is based on a cyber-fantasy I once had with an on-line male friend, which is why I used my real first name for the protagonist's name. I have heard that something like this once really happened to some women visiting the Caribbean but don't know if that is true. Please e-mail me to let me know what you think.

Eliza had been looking forward to her vacation in the Caribbean for several months. She had gone to a tanning salon to get a good all over tan, she had been working out so that she would look great in a bikini or even on a topless beach. She had managed to get up her nerve enough to go into an adult store to pick up a few toys for her "honeymoon" with Ted.

She missed her husband Ted. Ted was an international banker and often traveled abroad. He'd been in Venezuela now for three months, and would be for three more. When they had first gotten married two years ago, he'd suddenly had to fly off to Tokyo and their plans for a honeymoon had had to be put on hold. However, now he had a week off and he asked her to fly to the tiny Caribbean paradise of Freewick Island. He'd booked them a suite in a lovely resort at a place called Mango Bay. He would fly up from Caracas to meet her there.

Eliza found it hard to sleep the night before, she was so excited. She'd been packed for days, but once in the middle of the night she got out of bed and made sure that the sexy bikini that she'd bought just for the trip were in her suitcase. She imagined how excited Ted would be when he saw her in that bikini, how he would take her on the beach one night and strip off her top. He'd kiss her breasts until she wanted to scream and then help her out of her bottoms. then he'd lead her by the hand down to the surf and they would walk out a few yards. She'd wrap her legs around him and they'd make love in the warm waters of the Caribbean. Thinking of her and Ted, she began to carress her left breast through her silky nightgown. Her fingers though the sheer fabric of her nighty felt so good. Her other hand strayed down between her legs and in her fantasy, Ted was screwing her like mad now, the water around her was warm and phosphorescent. She imagined him groaning with pleasure and love and Ted cumming inside her, and just then she brought herself to orgasm. After that, she drifted off to sleep.

The morning of her flight she was up early. Eliza's mother arrived. She'd be looking after her two children while Eliza was gone. She kissed her sleepy children goodbye. Her friend and neighbor Brenda drove her to the airport. When they arrived, Brenda stopped in the loading zone and helped her get her bag out of the trunk. Brenda hugged her and said, "Think of me up here in the cold while you're lazing on the beach having drinks with little paper umbrellas in them!" Brenda kissed her on the cheek and said, "Say hi to Ted, and have fun!"

The flight to Miami was uneventful. She watched the movie. The businessman sitting next to her smiled at her a few times. She thought, "If I weren't married I might chat with him—he's pretty cute—but I'm on my way to see Ted."

In the Miami airport, she bought a bottle of rum in the duty free shop, some French perfume for herself and some cologne for Ted. Then she went into the business class lounge. The businessman who had been sitting next to her was in there already and smiled at her again. She thought, he wants me to sit by him, but instead, she went to the ladies' room and then found a seat near the window by herself. She watched the businessman's reflection in the glass. When a flight to Rio was announced, he got up and left. She thought, "I should have sat by him and had a drink. Why didn't I? It would have been fun to talk to someone." She suddenly felt lonely. "What's wrong with you, Eliza?" she asked herself. Then she told herself, "It's probably just three months of enforced celibacy that's making me think goofy thoughts. That and being nervous about the trip." She went to the bar and got a gin and tonic and sat at the bar until it was time to board her flight.

Freewich Island was too tiny to have a direct flight from Miami. She had to fly to the bigger, more popular resort island of San Carlos first. The flight there was uneventful. She was dreading the two-and-a-half-hour layover in the airport on San Carlos, but was pleased that they hadn't arrived late. There were only two island-hopping flights from San Carlos to Freewich Island per week. She would have missed half her honeymoon if her flight from Miami had been late.

When the flight landed, there was an announcement that said passengers bound for Freewich Island would have to pass through customs here in San Carlos because the two islands were part of the same customs union, whatever that meant. She waited for what seemed forever for her green suitcase to come around on the carousel. Then she walked over to the line for customs inspection. There was a long line and she was at the end of it. One large man was seated behind a counter. He asked a few passengers to open their suitcases for him but most he waved through with a bored look on his face. Standing behind this large man was another man, a shorter man, with a German shepherd on a leash. "A drug sniffing dog," she thought. Then she wondered, "Who would be foolish enough to try to smuggle drugs through customs?"

Finally Eliza reached the head of the line. The customs agent—his name tag said he was Sergeant Reyes--looker her over appraisingly. "What is your destination?" he asked in lightly accented English

"Freewick Island. Mango Bay, to be exact."

"Purpose of trip?"

"I'm meeting my husband there … he works in Venezuela … we're having a delayed honeymoon."

"I see. Well, I am sure you and your husband will have a wonderful time there together … on your honeymoon."

There was something slightly lascivious about the way he said that to her, she thought, but she dicided to ignore the innuendo.

"Would you mind please putting your suitcase on the counter and opening it for me?" She sighed, as she had been hoping to just breeze through customs and then kill some time in the shops, but she did as she had been asked. The agent went through her things quite thoroughly and in an offensive way. He pawed through her underwear, smiling, then he held up her bikini. He smirked and said, "Oh, you will look stunning in this on the beach, although , of course, you only needed to bring the bottom. We are very broadminded here in the Caribbean." When he discovered the adult toy she had bought, he showed it the other official, the one with the dog. His name tag identified his as Ricardo. They spoke in Spanish and laughed. She didn't say anything, but she felt herself blushing madly, and wished she could move on. Probably, since she was the last tourist in line, the customs agent just wanted to entertain himself until the next flight arrived. She looked at her watch as if to indicate her impatience.

At last, he threw everything back into the suitcase in a very untidy way and said, "Well, nothing here to interest a customs agent," he said, and winked at her. "You may go," he said, "go have fun on Freewich Island." Your flight leaves in about two hours." She leaned over the counter to zip up the many zippers on her bag that the agent had left open. Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the other agent, Ricardo, coming up behind her and she suddenly felt a wet, cold sensation on the back of her thighs. She looked behind her and there was the German shepherd she had seen earlier with its nose halfway up her skirt. "Girt him away from me!" She'd never liked dogs.

"Adolfo is just doing his job," said the sergeant, "You must let him work." Then the dog put it's nose all the way up to the crotch of her panties. She could feel its breath on her, and she was embarrassed. The dog began to whimper and bark. "Adolfo, what's the problem?" Adolfo continued to bark and to nudge her between the legs with his snout. "I'm afraid," said the first agent, "given Adolfo's interest, we'll have to continue this investigation," he said, eyeing her. She shook her head, "How long will this take? I told you, I have to catch the flight to Freewich …"

"It will take as long as it takes," he said abruptly. "I'm just following customs procedures. When the dog indicates positive detection of possible contraband, the agent on duty must follow up. It's all in the manual, if you'd like me to show you."

"But my flight … "

"If you cooperate, I'm certain we can still get you on your flight in time. I'm sure this is just a formability and that you have nothing to worry about," he said. Now, if you will come with me to the office…"

She didn't want to leave the busy concourse and go off with this man but didn't see what choice she had. The customs agent Reyes led her down a corridor to a doorway. He unlocked the door and let her in. The agent named Ricardo followed along with his dog Adolfo. Sergeant Reyes locked the door. The office was painted a dingy grey and had bars on the windows. There was a metal desk and a file cabinet and not much else.

The agent said, "First, we must know if you are actually on drugs now. For that, we must have a urine sample." He handed her a rather dirty looking glass jar. "A sample please."

"Oh my God, this is turning into a nightmare!" she said, "That's insane. Why would I be on drugs?"

Sergeant Reyes shrugged calmly, "I am merely following procedures as outlined in the manual,"

All right, where's the lady's room?" she asked.

"I'm afraid we can't allow you to use the lady's room," said the big custom's agent. "You might have a sample of urine secreted on your person, or you might ask another person using the restroom if you could perhaps borrow a sample of her urine."

"Oh my God, both those reasons are absolutely ridiculous," Eliza squealed.

"Nevertheless," the customs agent said, "rules are rules."

"This is insane," she repeated. Eliza put the jar down on the floor, then she squatted down on the floor above it. She figured she could just do this without revealing anything critical, although there was no way to do it and still maintain a shred of her dignity. She wished she'd worn a longer skirt, but was glad she hadn't worn slacks. Eliza eased her panties down a few inches, using her skirt as a shield against the men's intense stares. When once she got in position, for a long moment, she couldn't make herself pee and her knees began to wobble unsteadily. Finally, the stream came, but the mouth of the jar was small and not all of it went in. She looked at the large customs agent and said, "Toilet paper? Tissues?" The sergeant handed her a tissue, which was none too clean, and she quickly wiped herself she pulled her panties up quickly, pleased that she had not revealed too much of her body.

When she looked down at the jar, she saw that almost as much had gone on the floor as had gone in the jar. She wiped off the still warm jar with the tissue that Sergeant Reyes had given him and handed the jar to him. He smiled. "Now I am certain that if I came to your workplace or say, into your kitchen and I peed on the floor, you would not be pleased and would ask me to clean it up. So I will ask the same of you." He went into a little closet and brought out a pail of filthy water and some equally filthy cleaning rags. She had to get down on the floor on her hands and knees to clean up the yellow puddle of her pee. Ricardo said something to Sergeant Reyes that she couldn't understand, and they both laughed. "Ricardo says, for a tourist, you are a very good scrub woman." Her face burning with embarrassment, she finished cleaning her urine and stood up.

"May I go now?" she asked.

"Oh, senora, I am so sorry, as I said, the urine test is the first of the required procedures. The next—the next is the body search."

She closed her eyes, asking herself why this horror was happening to her. "To do a strip search—you must have a matron, a woman search me. That's the law," she said. Though she knew nothing about the laws of San Carlos, she hoped this was true.

"Yes, yes it is true. A female may only be searched by another female, you are right. And for that reason, we have a female customs agent, Teresa is her name, who performs these searches as necessary," said Sergeant Reyes.

Although being searched by another woman was not going to be a picnic, Eliza felt a wave of relief. "And where is Teresa?"

"She is not here at the moment, sadly." Eliza's relief began to vanish.

"How long will she be gone?" Eliza asked apprehensively, thinking of her flight.

"Oh not long. She has the flu, that's all. No more than a few days, I don't think."

"A FEW DAYS! I can't wait a few days! This is outrageous. I want to see someone from my embassy!"

"Our poor little San Carlos does not rate an embassy from the United States, sadly, although there is talk that in a few years …"

To hell with her vacation. "I'll just wait, then."

"Oh fine, there is a detention facility nearby, and we will take you to the detention facility tonight and put you up there free of charge. I'm afraid, though, that the facility … well as a poor nation, the security there is not very professional. Sometimes the inmates from the men's facility break into the women's facility … and … there have been some unfortunate incidents involving tourists and our criminals. Stabbings, robbings, oh, and a few rapes."

She felt a shudder of fear pass through her body. She could see where this was leading.

"And so, my only alternative is … "

"Ricardo and I will be only too willing to conduct the investigation—it won't take long-- and afterwards, you'll be on your way to meet your husband."

She wondered if there was any prayer of still catching her flight, of seeing Ted in a couple of hours. Of course, she couldn't tell him any of this.

She had no doubt that if she said no, that this man would put her to a miserable cell with half a dozen of the most perverted men on San Carlos, who would use her even more cruelly than he would.

"Let's get this over with," she said with resignation in her voice.

"Very well,." said the sergeant happily. She saw Ricardo setting up a video camera. "Of course, for your own protection, we'll need to videotape this inspection. She knew that, whatever the purpose of the videotaping, it was not for her protection.

"First I would like you to remove your blouse and your skirt."

Her fingers were trembling so much that she could barely undo the buttons of her blouse. Finally she did and slipped it off. She unbuckled her belt, undid her skirt, and dropped it to the floor. She stepped out of it.

"Hand it to me, please," he said. He ran his hands over her blouse and skirt, as if checking the seams for unusual objects. "Now …" he smirked, "if you would please remove your brassiere."

She turned around and undid her bra and shrugged it off.

"Hand it to me, please." She had to turn around to hand him her bra, and she could feel two sets of hungry eyes devouring the sight of her bare breasts.

Again he ran his thick fingers over her bra. He said to Ricardo, "There may be something … suspicious inside this garment. Hand me a knife."

"There's nothing in there," she said. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Still, one must be thorough. Certainly women sometimes hide secret objects in their underwear." He used to knife to cut open one of her bra cups." Ah, my mistake," he said. "Only padding to make your breasts appear larger." Typically, now, I would ask you to lift up your breasts to make sure some little vial was not concealed there. However, clearly, your breasts are …. delicate, and you could hide nothing there."

Her cheeks burned with humiliation. She had always been sensitive about her 34b's. The first time she had let Ted take off her bra, she remembered thinking that he was disappointed in her lack of size. "I always thought you gringas got surgical implants to correct such … such lack of size…." She covered her breasts with her hands."

"Well," he said, "the time has come to reveal to remove your panties, please."

"I can't. I just can't." She hated the idea of exposing her privates to these animals.

Sergeant Reyes came up to her, hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her underpants, and pulled them slowly down. She stepped out of them. he bent down and peered between her legs.

"Well, just as I thought. no drugs whatsoever." said Sergeant Reyes. You can get dressed now and… oh, one moment. One last step. Ricardo, have Adolfo give her one last check, to be sure."

"No, keep that damn dog away from me,"

However, Ricardo led the dog over and immediately it went for her crotch, sniffing, digging with his nose, whimpering, growling. The beast even licked her lower lips. Eliza's fear intensified.

"Well, I had hoped it would not come to this, but, for some reason, Adolfo seems to think there are still contraband drugs on your person … and, of course, it would not be the first time a female smuggler had hidden drugs in her genitals or anus … not that I think you would, of course, but … I am afraid this development triggers the necessity for a cavity search."

"Please don't," she said, "I swear I don't have anything inside me, I swear it."

"And dear lady, I believe you, but … I must do my duty." Sergent Reyes went to his desk drawer and got out a scissors, a can of shaving cream, and a razor and handed them to her. "Regulations. All suspects must be clean shaven. It aids in the inspection process."

"That's insane," Eliza almost shouted. "What difference could that make? My husband … doesn't like it like that, doesn't like it shaved. He says a woman should look like a woman, not like a little girl. What will he think when I…when he sees …." She couldn't go on. Tears rose to her eyes.

Sergeant Reyes shrugged. "As I said, regulations. Would you prefer Ricardo did it for you"

Ricardo was busy filming the entire scene.

She used the scissors to trim the longer hair and then covered her pubic area with foam. She carefully shaved herself as best as she could, though she wasn't used to shaving there and was afraid she might nick herself. In the past, she had only trimmed herself a little down there before going to the beach.

When she had finished, Sergeant Reyes handed her a dust pan and a brush. "You weren't just going to leave your pubic hair lying on her floor, were you?" She had to get down on her hands and knees to sweep her curly dark-brown hair in to the dust pan while Sergeant Reyes filmed her sweeping them up. There was more on the floor than she had thought there would be.

Sergeant Reyes said. "Please go stand by the desk facing me. That's right, now be seated on the desk and spread your legs as far as possible. Pretend you are at your gynecologist's getting a pelvic exam, for really, that's what this is. Lie back. Ricardo, get a close up please. He put on rubber gloves and dipped his forefinger into a jar of Vaseline "to make it less painful," he said. She closed her eyes. She felt him spread her lower lips with his gloved finger and explore the outside of her pussy. Then he inserted a finger deep into her vaginal opening and probed her, moving around and around and in and out far longer than would have been necessary to look for drugs. He put in a second finger, and then a third. "You're hurting me" she said. He pulled his fingers out and then moved his finger upward, spreading the folds around the clitoris. His finger brushed up against her, giving her an involuntary thrill through her body. He brushed it again, and smiled at her. She was sure he knew she had felt that unwanted twinge of excitement.

Then he told her, "One final hiding place to check. Please stand in the middle of the room and grab your ankles."