July 5, 2015 Leave a comment
It was a steaming hot airport and not exactly helped as the crowds of passengers that seemed to increase by the minute. Finally, after a sweltering fifty minute wait, I depositing my backpack on the conveyor belt and walked through the metal detector. There was no buzz but immediately, the officer in front of me signalled for me to stand at the side.
“Yes officer?” I wasn’t familiar with he fanciful rank so I didn’t know what to call him.
“Open,” he pointed to my bag.
“Why?” I immediately said but he just repeated himself in his heavy accent.
I finally complied though naturally I was bewildered. Just as I opened it, another officer, this then with more fanciful embroidery on his epaulette, immediately reached in and yanked out something. It was that rather intricately designed doll that I bought at the local market. I thought it was a great gift for my little sister.
“Hey, that’s my…” suddenly the senior officer, twisted the doll’s head and it snapped open. He tilted the body of the doll and out came a huge load of powder. I heard all of the airport security men suddenly mutter something in their local dialect.
“You under….” I didn’t catch the last word from the senior man as the guy who motioned to me touched my arm. “Hey! Cut that…ow!” I felt cold, thick metallic steel around me wrists—I was handcuffed behind my back. “This is wrong! I demand….ow!” I cried again as I felt the same metal just above my ankles–they had put leg irons around me legs. “This is uncalled for! I demand an explanation!”
“Open mouth,” the senior man said.
“Why? Look I want to know what’s going on. I just bought the doll in an open market..”
“Open mouth,” he said again in his heavy accent. I started to protest once more when suddenly something rubbery was jammed into my open mouth. I naturally tried to get it out but that was so impossible with my handcuffed arms. “Mmmmph!” I cried as straps cut across my cheeks and I felt the device secured behind my ponytail. A ball gag! I knew what it was from watching lots of adult movies despite my young age. What the hell, they had ball-gagged me?
With another undecipherable command, I felt myself literally whisked off the ground and half-carried, half dag through the airport into a dark, windowless van. Inside were several tough looking guards, or rather goons. two of them “attached” me to a rather torn hard seat–first the strapped me bound figure with four point restraints and second, they yanked my legs apart, jerking the leg irons and double securing my feet to the side of the bench or chair. “Mmmph!” I cried through the gag, more due to the conscious fact that opened my dress and revealed my panties to all these guys. “Mmmph!” I cried again as the vehicle spluttered to life and zoomed off so fast that I was jerked back and forth.
Before I could even bring my thoughts together, the vehicle stopped. The door opened to reveal a dark garage. I was roughly brought out and prodded like an animal towards a narrow corridor. Ten minutes or painful prodding and walking, my eyes fluttered as I entered a brightly lit room. In front of me was another male officer–wasn’t there a single female officer in this island? Before I knew it, he spun me around and raised my bound wrists, pressing my thumb against some soft object. It took me a few seconds to figure out that I was being fingerprinted? The fingerprinting took I don’t know, several painful minutes due to my fetters and muscles being stretch. My arms were finally released but that was not the end of it as my heels were unceremoniously removed and I was pushed against a wall. Wait, it was a wall with some scribblings on it. SNAP! SNAP! They were taking mug shots at me!!! And the didn’t even remove the ball gag!
What happened next was the most humiliating part of my life. They brought me into a side room where two men, this time dressed in plain clothes were waiting. They both had rubber gloves on and I immediately yelped through my gag knowing what this was. But alas, I was help tightly still by one of them while the other, who reeked of a foul breath, intensively rummaged through my hair, removing my hairclips, and scrunngie in the process. Next, he targeted my ears, uncliping my favourite pair of earrings! Despite my mmmmphing and limited struggling, his gloved hands ran all over my face. Momentarily, the red ball was yanked off–thankfully without any of my teeth and I scream the loudest. Before I knew it, his fingers were deep inside my oral cavity, causing me to momentarily gag. I couldn’t scream further as the ball was secured once more between my teeth. Then, an even more humiliating part as both of them drew my dress down to my fettered ankles, exposing my dark blue bra and my black bikini-like panties. “Mmmmmpph!!” I cried.
But it was to no avail as the lead guy unclipped my bra, exposing my 36C boobs. I yelp continuously, but that didn’t stop him from lifting both breasts several times, running his hands around them. Jeez, like there was anything incriminating on my boobs! As he did so I felt a tingling sensation, one I have felt since I kissed my ex-boyfriend. Oh my gosh, I was feeling aroused by his touches! With my armpit grouped, he left my boobs exposed and then yanked down my underwear. I always hated medical check ups but this forced cavity search was no where near anything I experience. I could only continue to yelp as the fingers entered my anus and then vaginal cavity.
They helped or rather roughly dressed me back in my clothes minus my bra!! Then with the manacles and gag on once more on, I was again dragged to another room with just a wooden desk and chair. I was roughly restrained to the chair, hands still behind my back, rope below and above my bra-less breasts and legs tied to each leg of the chair so much that my crotch was exposed for all to see. Finally they left and a bright light shown down on me. It not only continued to disorientate me but made me perspire even more.
Before I could even think straight, a burly man dressed in a pink short sleeved shirt and and formal trousers entered, along with a shorter guy in dark shirt and jeans. The taller guy rattled off in the local dialect and then I heard the shorter guy translate. The stuff inside the doll were extremely powerful drugs and I was to be jailed for ten years under their laws. “Mmmmpphh!!!” I cried repeatedly through my gag, wanting to defend myself. I’m entitled to rights aren’t I?
The taller flunky left, slamming the door behind him. The shorter one circled me for a while, almost akin to a hawk circling his prey. Finally he reached down and yanked my ball gag out, letting the saliva-coated ball drop down to my deck.
“Thank…you,” I groaned, my throat dried out from the gagging. “Please, let me see someone from my embassy! I did nothing wrong! I know nothing about those drugs!!”
“Silence!” He yelled at me. “Your country has no diplomatic relations here and in fact, you as a student should know both our countries hate each other. Our laws are strict and final. Now, my senior will ensure you go to jail for a long time. I can, however, get you a special pass for a shorter period of say at least two weeks and then you can go home.”
“Two weeks?!! I did nothing wrong!! And I’m treated like some animal! I want to get out of here!”
“The only way out of here is via me girl, or via my boss who will treat you even worse. Now,” he unfolded a document from his pocket and produced a pen. My left hand was uncuffed–how did he know I was left handed–and drew my hand up to the document.
“Sign,” he said.
“I don’t get this; it’s not in English,” I protested.
“You have no choice, lady. Sign Or I’ll leave you to spend your life in our prisons.”
“Ok,” he recuffed me and started to get out. He lifted the gag up and pried open my mouth. “Wait, wait,” I cried, “I’ll do it.”
“Good,” he muttered then with a shaking hand, I scribbled my scrawly signature.
“Wait here,” he said and before I could protest, I was bound and re-gagged. As the guy disappeared I pondered. Could he really give me a lesser sentence? Why was his English so fluent?
It was less than five minutes later that he returned with something in his hand. He came over and I was freed from the restraints to the chair, although my wrists and legs were still shackled and mouth still gagged. I then saw what was in his hand–it was a dark blak skit mask with no holes. “Mmmmpph,” I cried in protest.
“This is necessary during the transportation of all prisoners,” the man/officer/whatever he was said. “Either this, or I leave you with others.” Still with uncertainty, I let him drape the hood over me. “You can still breathe normally,” he said, although I didn’t feel so. Before I knew it, I was led out again, and soon enough into the scorching sunshine. Blindfolded, I could only guess I was in some large car or mini an I was laid, cuffed hands down and surprisingly strapped to the seat. If the ride from the airport to the station was painful, this was ten times, no hundred times worse, especially when the vehicle travelled over potholes.
Finally, after 1 and a half, no 2 hours, the car stopped and I was released from my vertical position. Even from the dark hood, I could guess with certainty that I was in some sort of underground location. Through several flights of stairs, which further strained my ankles, I was guided through several clanging doors before I was stopped. With the sound of a locked keypad, I was brought in to another room and then forced to the ground. Click,click click, my bonds were linked to some rings or chains attached to the wall or ground then my legs bend and parted. “Stay,” was his command but I immediately shifted my legs. “No, open your legs as before and keep them there. There’s video feed in this room; I’ll be watching.” With that I heard him leave and the door lock. What the hell did I get myself into? I sobbed. I was suppose to be on a flight home. Instead, I’m treated like an animal and locked up in some unknown dungeon with some guy I don’t know and him or some others looking at my knickers. I want to go home, please someone let me go home…
The door opened again and I tensed as someone (the man?) approached me. “I’m going to remove your hood and gag, not a word, got it?” It was the same old gun. I heaved a sigh of relief as the hood came off, then the ball gag was unstrapped. Despite the warning, I coughed and saliva ran down my jaw and neck. “Drink,” was his next order, and a straw was passed to my lips. It was a refreshing drink indeed given the heat and all the torture I had gone through. “Ok, enough, I don’t want to fill your bladder,” he said. “Open your mouth,” Noo…I cried silently, but it was still forced open and I tasted another rubbery device, this time a tube. It didn’t take me long to figure out that I was now gagged with a panel gag; yeah I’ve seen them but not wore them before. Ball gags, panel gags, hoods, chains. Where did this small dictatorship get all this from?
Left chained and gagged (not blindfolded but that wasn’t much comfort) and legs open, I was left alone again. The room I was in was bare with nothing but the rings and chains I was attached to in. Where was I going to sleep, or relieve myself? What the hell is this place? Despite the camera–yes there was a camera above in the ceiling–I still shifted around but I was firmly locked to the ground. Damnit, this is really worse than any jail. This is like Guantanamo…
I drifted a bit to sleep–the whole ordeal was really tiring. Once again, the door was unlocked, waking me up. “Toilet time,” he announced, bending down to unlock the chain that locked me to the wall and ground. I in fact felt a bit of urge to, so this was a thankful move. But it also meant that I was to be blindfolded again, this time with a simple dark piece of cloth. The toilet was a simple sit down toilet, and thankfully not a squatting one. He helped me down then re-locked my hands to the front.
“Mmmph,” I groaned through me gag. Couldn’t I relieve myself in private?
“Hurry up, you don’t have all day, no I’m not leaving.” Great, a guy watching me pee. With much difficulty, I lowered my black knickers with my bound hands and relieved myself. It was just as difficult wiping myself. Just as I was pulling them up, he remarked, “This is your only toilet break for now. Better do both; if you dirty the cell, you clean it.”
What?! Well, I didn’t have any filled stomach so I shook my head. “Ok,” once more my wrists were cuffed behind me and with the toilet flushed, I was brought back once more to my cell.
I dozed off again until the cell door clanged open. In his hand was a tray of something mushy. Dinner time? Gosh I was immediately hungry since I was arrested close to lunchtime. “Yes, Miss Charlotte Hawkins