Almost Out of Africa

Susan sensed the agent waiting and shuddered. All her feelings of safety and security in the world were slipping away 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; that she would be buck naked in a few minutes anyway.

Looking around, Susan could see how anxious the men were to see her most private parts. Realizing that denying them that pleasure for a few moments longer was probably going to be her last chance to deny them anything, she made her decision. Lifting her leg, Susan yanked one sock off angrily and planted her bare foot firmly on the 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 leering males.

The agent dropped her dirty socks carelessly on top of her other clothes, and then stared at her, waiting. Susan did not move. She needed a brief show of resistance to regain her composure. Thinking that she was making it too easy for this worm of an agent, she decided that he would have to ask for her last garment.

The agent had to swallow before he spoke, his mouth having gone dry from excitement. In an annoyed voice, he croaked "Take off your underpants, now!"

Pleased with herself for disconcerting the man, Susan slipped her fingers into the waistband of her panties and pushed them down over her bare hips. Her hairy bush was suddenly exposed to five sets of 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 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 body: her blonde hair, her pale skin, her pink nipples, and, most fascinating of all, her blonde triangle of pubic hair. Susan's pubes were slightly darker in color than the hair on her head, but she was definitely a natural blonde; as these men could clearly see.

Letting her panties fall to the dirty floor may seem odd, but Susan was trying to demonstrate, to both herself and the Africans, that she didn't care what they did, that nothing would faze her. 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 Susan stepped out of her empty panties, picked them up, and handed them to the man. He dropped them on top of her dirty socks.

The pile of Susan's clothing was now complete. Everything she had been wearing when she entered the room was now on or under the old wooden chair, leaving her 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.

Susan'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 completely naked in front of a group of fully clothed Africans.

"Put your hands behind your head", the agent ordered abruptly. She did as he instructed, elbows out. Her audience watched as her firm tits were raised and thrust forward, her bare nipples pointing right at them. "Legs apart" barked the agent. Susan shifted her legs so that her feet were shoulder width apart. The men's eyes instantly dropped to the young woman's crotch; where they could just make out her pink cunt through her blonde bush. Susan forced herself to remain detached. She wondered what Jim was doing at this moment.

Jim 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; 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 Susan in that room, it was better than what would happen to her if he resisted. Jim 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. Jim guessed that in Mabuto, 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. So he sat, and worried.

Inside the room, his naked wife stood, legs apart, and worried. How far were these thugs going to go, she wondered? Despite her resolve to remain detached, Susan couldn't help but be aware of her nudity; 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. "Walk to the far wall and back, and keep walking until I tell you to stop". Susan turned and walked towards the rear wall, the soldiers getting their first look at her naked backside. All eyes were glued to the woman's bare ass, her full cheeks wobbling lewdly with each step. Reaching the wall she turned and walked back towards the men, boobs and hairy bush embarrassingly of display. The men watched like a pack of hungry wolves as she made several back and forth trips, trying to decide which side they preferred. Finally the agent told her to stop, and she stood before them at attention.

"Turn around", he ordered. She complied. "Bend over and spread your cheeks".

Susan was not shocked; she was expecting something like this. Now they were getting down to the nitty-gritty of this 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 beautiful naked tourist brazenly spread her bottom for them. The dark crease between her lush bum cheeks parted, revealing her asshole. Susan's crinkled anus was a deep reddish color, contrasting obscenely with the very pale hemispheres of her bare fanny. 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.

Susan'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". Susan straightened up slowly; the men watching in fascination as her rosebud was again enfolded and hidden between the plump cheeks of her behind.

"Come over here" the agent ordered as he walked to the old examination table. As Susan 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 body cavity search" he said with a smirk on his lips. "Get on the table and lie on your back".

Susan 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, Susan 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 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. Susan knew that if she held anything back from these pigs 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 beautiful nude blonde spreading her legs before them. Susan's pubic bush parted, revealing her cunt. The men watched hungrily as her pink vulva slowly opened, exposing the inner folds of her labia. Susan 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 blonde bush sprouted at the base of her belly like some small garden growing 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. Susan 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 soft, pink vaginal lips, glistening slightly in the center of their furry, light-haired nest, was to them a sight fit for the Gods. Susan 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 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. Susan knew 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 on her hairy 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 blonde pubes. Susan'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 young woman's sex. It emerged with a soft, smacking sound. Susan 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 Susan's pussy to the hilt. She let out a 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 young wife's tender vagina. Susan 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.

Susan's open vulva was glistening with grease, her pubic hair matted with it. Not bothering with the preliminaries, the new man brutally thrust a stubby digit into her cunny 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 jerked his finger painfully out of Susan's pussy and began fumbling with his pants.

When she saw that she was about to be raped, Susan snapped out of her compliant role. Struggling to get up, she kicked out strongly with her legs at the same time. Another soldier moved to hold her down, but just then she landed a powerful kick directly to the balls of her potential rapist. The man let out a 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, then came to attention, fear in their eyes. The man on the floor stopped groaning, probably more afraid than the rest. All was quiet in the room again. Even Susan, naked and half sitting up, didn't move. The Captain's air of icy calm returned. He turned to Susan and said: "We will continue the search, but you will not be harmed". With a nod to the agent he resumed his seat. Susan 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 American tourists a little humility. Rape, however, might result in an official protest. Although President Kemo 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. Susan lay propped up on one elbow, breathing hard from her struggles, her naked breasts rising and falling with each breath. Her bare legs were slightly apart, her vagina leaking melted grease onto the brown leather, a pool of which shimmered between her thighs.

"Almost finished now Miss", he announced politely, "one more procedure and then you will be free to go. Get down and turn around, facing the table." Susan could hear a new tone of respect in the agent's voice. Her apparent lack of shame 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 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 American tourist, but they were not to be denied their fun. They were again leering hungrily at the sight of the naked young 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 Susan'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 wonderful man he must be; able to order this American beauty to strip and then submit to these humiliating procedures. Trembling with sexual excitement, his eyes locked on Susan'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 Susan'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 Susan's ass crack, her anus gripping the base of his finger tightly. The soldiers crowded round, feasting their eyes on the obscene sight.

From Susan's viewpoint, there wasn't much to see at all; only the 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. Susan'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 Jim'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 Susan 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 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. Jim was somewhat ashamed of his desire to witness Susan'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 wife. Only her husband should be allowed such liberties, if any man should. His place was being usurped, and he felt it keenly.

Back inside the room, the greedy customs agent had now had his finger up Susan's 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 pop, which draw a chuckle from the soldiers.

'About time' thought Susan, 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 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 tormentor. 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.