"God damn it. I'm going to miss this flight," Gerald said to himself as he rushed past the check-in stand at Boston International, only to find a security line of passengers waiting to be screened that seemed to extend for miles. He eagerly checked his watch and nervously contemplated the departure time printed on his ticket.
After what seemed like an hour but was in reality about 15 minutes, the line moving at a steady enough pace, he was just about to present his passport to the security officer when he was approached by two other blue-uniformed guards. "Sir, you've been randomly selected for extra screening. Please come with us," they requested. Shrugging his shoulders and sighing at how unlucky he was, but hopeful that potentially this would be faster than going through the conveyor belt of bins and metal detectors, he absent-mindedly followed the guards into a small private security office.
A buxom, overweight woman wearing a tight blue uniform causing her cleavage to slightly spill out greeted him. Her name tag read the name "Rosa", and Gerald took in that she was a brunette with far too much eye makeup and bright red lipstick. As the guards closed the door behind them on their way out, she noticed Gerald and gave him a smile akin to a bird of prey that looked like it had caught its evening meal.
"Ok sir, I'm going to need you to turn around," she directed him. Sighing and anxious to get it over with, Gerald obediently complied only to feel cold metal handcuffs closing around his wrists from behind. As he started to jerk away, she assured him, "Relax, this is just for both your and my protection during the screening process."
"I'm sorry, but what protection? I have never heard of this before. Why--" Gerald immediately began to ask in an arrogant tone.
"Sir, please do not question the process. Just relax and we will get through this," Rosa said, retrieving a pair of plastic gloves from the table next to her and snapping them tightly over her hands. She proceeded to pat Gerald down, along his thin cotton shirt and stylish pants, finding a bulge where his cell phone rested. She pulled it out. "Sir, what's this?"
"It's a cell phone.. I trust you've seen them before," Gerald replied, rolling his eyes at the absurdity of the whole situation, although quickly becoming somewhat nervous at the same time. "Please, I'm worried about my flight."
Rosa picked up a wand and began to wave it up and down his frame. "The more you complain, sir, the longer this will take," she said, smacking her gum and smiling down at his not unpleasantly-shaped frame. The wand emitted a slight beep right on his belt buckle. "Uh oh, what have we here?" she asked devilishly. "I'm going to need you to turn around." Gerald complied hesitantly, only to see her two gloved hands reaching around in front of him and unbuckling his belt, before tugging it off completely.
"Hey, uh, is that necessary? Where's your manager?" he started to ask, only to be cut off by her patting him down directly in the bulge of his crotch area. Too shocked for words, he felt disgusted yet at the same time began to involuntarily develop an erection from the manipulation his genitals were receiving.
"Disobeying the orders of federal security personnel is a felony, sir," Rosa said, still continuing to manipulate his bulge. "Are you carrying a weapon?" she asked. She reached up and began to unbutton his shirt.
"Listen, lady, you--" Gerald began, only to be interrupted again.
"I'm not 'lady'. My name is Miss Rosa. Call me that from now on or we're going to have problems," she said into his ear from behind him, continuing to strip him of his shirt.
"Okay. Miss Rosa. I have been very patient, but I do NOT have any weapons, and I'm going to miss my flight if this doesn't end soon," he pleaded.
