The Courier
Copyright 2008 by EC
EC's Erotic Art & Fiction - http://www.ecgraphicarts.com/

(warnings: erotic discipline, sex between adults, medical fetish, 
public nudity, harsh police interrogation)


Chapter 1 – Flight 2298

International Flight 2298 already was an hour late to its 
destination in Frankfurt when the aircraft was rocked by a nasty 
band of turbulence.  The plane dropped into a wind shear, 
shuttered upwards, and then dropped again.  The pilot, who 
already had ordered all passengers to return to their seats, 
ominously ordered the fight attendants to immediately sit down as 
well.  The passengers watched with increasing anxiety as the 
cabin crewmembers swayed in the aisles towards the dubious safely 
of their landing seats.

Again the plane shuttered upwards and dropped.  Outside bands of 
thick clouds alternated with gray sky as the aircraft banked to 
avoid the worst of the storm.  The worst of the storm, however, 
already had begun moving into northern Germany, which meant that 
a landing in Frankfurt was becoming increasingly unlikely.

Air travel that evening would be a mess throughout northwestern 
Europe, as flights had to be diverted away from a string of 
cities extending from Paris to Warsaw.  The storm showed no 
promise of letting up, thus forcing controllers to make the 
difficult decision to land planes in airports far away from their 
intended destinations.  

As alternate airports filled up, controllers decided to divert 
International Flight 2298 eastward to the King Vladik 
International Airport in Danubikt Moskt, the Danubian Republic’s 
only international airport.  Yes, that primitive airport was very 
far out of the way, but Flight 2298 still had enough fuel to make 
it, whereas many other planes competing for landing slots did 
not.  So the crew and passengers, already exhausted from a 
grueling flight from Panama City to Europe, now would fly an 
extra hour to get to Danubikt Moskt.  Unless the weather cleared, 
the plane’s occupants could expect to stay well into the 
following day before they could fly out.

As the plane banked right to turn eastward, it was buffeted by 
still more sickening turbulence.  The pilot announced that, 
regrettably, the flight would end in the Danubian Republic, not 
Germany.  Not that it really mattered.  Most of the passengers 
simply wanted to get on the ground and be done with the horrible 
journey.  Anywhere, even Danubikt Moskt, was just fine, as long 
it was out of that storm.  They could deal with getting to 
Germany tomorrow, but now all that mattered was returning to 
solid ground.

----------

As the plane began its final descent into Danubian airspace, 
Maria Elena Rodriguez-Torres felt waves of nausea surging through 
her body.  What the young Colombian felt was not simple air 
sickness, but rather the rebellion of her body against what she 
was carrying inside her stomach.  A full kilo of cocaine, divided 
into grape-sized plastic packages, was the young woman’s reason 
for being on the flight.  Now she knew those packages, (or 
“pellets”, as they were called in the world of drug traffickers) 
were not going to stay down much longer.  Sweat poured down the 
passenger’s face as she tried to keep them down.

Por favor…por favor…o Dios mio…por favor…que llegue al aeropuerto 
sin…

It was not to be.  Maria Elena surged forward, covering her mouth 
as it filled with vomit and three round grape-sized objects.  She 
flailed about with her free hand while the man in the seat next 
to her frantically pulled out an air sickness bag, opened it, and 
handed it to her.  She vomited, and to her horror felt more 
pellets working their way up her esophagus in a desperate attempt 
to escape through her mouth.  It seemed that not only was her 
body rejecting the presence of those unnatural objects inside 
her, but the pellets themselves did not want to be there either 
and were determined to get out.

Over and over Maria Elena threw up into the bag, as sweat and 
tears poured down her face.  She rudely waved off the efforts of 
her neighbor to comfort her as pellets passed upwards and gagged 
her, making her want to throw up all that much more.  Within 
seconds the bag was completely full of the contents of her 
stomach, which included nearly thirty bluish-gray ovals, about a 
third of the cocaine that her handler had entrusted to her for 
delivery to Germany.

Panic and total despair swept over the unhappy courier, because 
not only her freedom, but her very life now was in grave danger.  
Maria Elena knew that the cost of losing any of the cocaine that 
her handlers had entrusted to her would be her life.  She had 
been given 100 pellets to swallow, and she would deliver 100 
pellets to her contact in Frankfurt.  In exchange for her efforts 
she would be given 15,000 Euros.  To deliver anything less than 
100 pellets would cost her life, or at the very least enslavement 
in a brothel to pay off her debt. 

La plata o el plomo…as they always said.  Silver for success…lead 
for failure.

The man sitting next to Maria Elena tried to take her air-
sickness bag, but she violently snatched it away.  

“Look, lady…I’m just gonna give it to the attendant.  I’ll get 
you another bag.”

The young woman struggled with her very limited English.

“You no take…you no say me nothin’!”

“You need to get rid of that…come on now…hand it over…”

“You no take me!”

The man was bewildered, but suddenly became irritated and 
suspicious.  OK…just what the hell was in that bag that she was 
so worried about?  

----------

With intense pain sweeping through her intestines and tears 
rolling down her cheeks, Maria Elena stared through the window as 
the plane finally dropped through the clouds and the lights below 
became visible.  The aircraft was still shaking as it was 
buffeted by wind, but the rain had let up and the passengers 
could make out the lights of Danubikt Moskt (or Danube City in 
English) the capitol of the Danubian Republic, as their flight 
made its final approach.  

The pilots took a deep breath as they lined up their huge 
aircraft to a runway that was not designed for such a large 
plane.  This airport was something else…not set up at all for 
night landings, a short runway, no decent radar system, no 
adequate lighting, and no modern gates.  However, the Danubian 
Army was doing what it could to help diverted planes make safe 
landings; two rows of Danubian soldiers were waving flares and 
shining spotlights onto the runway in a feeble attempt to direct 
incoming flights to the ground and the terminal.  The plane hit 
the ground with a violent jolt as the pilot immediately hit the 
reverse thrusters to avoid overshooting the runway.  As soon as 
the plane slowed sufficiently a military jeep moved in front of 
the aircraft, with a soldier in the back wildly waving a 
flashlight to get the pilot to take his plane off the runway.  
The soldiers’ haste was quite justified, because other diverted 
flights were circling Danube City waiting to land, some of which 
were about to run out of fuel.  The moment Flight 2298 turned off 
the main runway, another jumbo jet roared past and another flight 
was safely on the ground.  

Led by its military escort, Flight 2298 approached the small 
terminal building and a stopped next to multitude of other planes 
that were parked very close together.  Torrents of rain poured 
down and gusts continued to shake the aircraft, but now the 
danger of crashing was past.  As the pilot cut the engines, yet 
another flight roared in…yet another safe landing in this 
woefully small airport.  

The moment the engines were turned off, airport workers rolled 
two staircases to the front and back of the plane.  As the doors 
opened the pilot announced that everyone was ordered to get off 
immediately.  To highlight that point, Danubian police officers 
climbed into the plane and started yelling at the passengers to 
get out.  No, there would be no leisurely checking to see if 
everyone had everything, and if anyone was caught struggling with 
a large bag and holding up other passengers a cop yelled:  “You 
no take!  You now move-move!”

The scene outside was surreal to anyone accustomed only to modern 
airports.  As the rain continued to pour down on them, two lines 
of stranded travelers descended the staircases into darkness and 
ran between parked planes towards a large military hanger.  
Another hanger already was full to capacity and Danubian soldiers 
were erecting tents, presumably in anticipation of receiving yet 
more passengers.  The entire area outside the terminal building 
was full of over-sized aircraft, the buildings were packed to 
capacity, and diverted flights continued to come in.  The cops 
were frantic to empty the planes as quickly as possible to make 
room for more incoming passengers, which justified their rough 
treatment of anyone holding up the evacuation of an aircraft.

Maria Elena staggered out of her seat, clutching her air-sickness 
bag and a small backpack that was her only carry-on item.  As she 
stepped into the rain she nearly lost her balance on the 
staircase, but she held on tightly to her cocaine.  That bag was 
a matter of life and death.  She would have to find a place where 
she could clean off those pellets and somehow get them back 
inside her body.  

She struggled in the rain towards the hanger, but suddenly 
another wave of nausea swept over the unhappy girl.  She retched 
yet again, separated from the other passengers, fell to her hands 
and knees, and lost another five pellets onto the wet pavement.  
She picked them up and stuffed them into the pocket of her 
sweatshirt.  She recovered slightly and finished the arduous 
journey to the hanger.

The wind picked up and a loud clap of thunder announced that the 
storm had arrived full force to Danube City.  A large military 
tent broke loose and flew across the tarmac, with several 
soldiers in desperate pursuit.  The weather now prevented any 
more flights from coming in and it was obvious none would be 
taking off anytime soon.  The roof of the hanger rattled from the 
wind and rain as Danubian cops holding up signs with flight 
numbers tried to re-organize the crowd of panicked and bewildered 
passengers.  

Just as the Danubians had been determined to get everyone off the 
planes as quickly as possible, they also wanted to empty the 
airport.  The police announced that the passengers would be taken 
by bus to several nearby schools and kept under guard until their 
flights could leave.  There would be a place to sit down and dry 
off, bathrooms, showers, and clean drinking water.

----------

Still gripping her airsickness bag and her wet backpack, Maria 
Elena boarded a very crowded bus and endured a short trip to a 
nearby elementary school.  As the passengers entered the school 
and attempted to dry off, Danubian soldiers brought in a 
truckload of blankets, towels, and hot drinks; while a local 
baker unloaded a shipment of breakfast rolls and blackberry jam.  
It wasn’t much, but considering the thousands of stranded 
passengers flooding Danube City on such short notice, a lot of 
people would gratefully remember the Danubian government’s 
efforts to make their stay less onerous.  The wind continued to 
howl outside and the city underwent two brief blackouts, but most 
of the passengers were satisfied to be safe, in a clean dry 
building where they could at least stretch their legs.

Her intestines still hurt, but the nausea had passed and Maria 
Elena was able to take an interest in her surroundings.  The 
school was very clean, but the building looked like it was at 
least 100 years old.  The walls were covered with children’s 
paintings of griffins, landscapes, kings, and medieval knights.  
The young Colombian also noticed some drawings of families 
relaxing on beaches or lakes, and what was interesting was that 
no one in the vacation pictures was wearing a swim suit.  That 
detail struck her as very odd.  Don’t people wear swimsuits in 
this country?

There were other pictures that caught her attention.  It seemed 
that every classroom boasted anti-drug propaganda, graphic 
assaults on the world in which Maria Elena recently had immersed 
herself.  There was no question the Danubians were totally 
intolerant of drugs, if what was on the walls of the school was 
any indication.  The courier took a deep breath, thinking about 
her own reason for being on that wayward flight.  The sooner she 
got out of this country, the better.

Maria Elena diverted her attention from the anti-drug pictures.  
She had a much more urgent matter to take care of.  In that 
crowded school, she hoped to find a bathroom or sink private 
enough for her to clean off her pellets and get them back inside 
her body, either by re-swallowing them or by shoving them up her 
bottom.  She had some Vaseline, so she calculated that shoving 
the cocaine up her bottom might be the easier way to go.  30 
pellets was a lot, however, so she resigned herself to the fact 
she probably would have to re-swallow at least some.  That meant 
yet another nauseating flight from Danube City to Frankfurt, but 
at least she had hope she could deliver her load after all and 
get her 15,000 Euros.  She found a teacher’s bathroom with a door 
that locked, filled the sink with water, and proceeded to rinse 
off the pellets from her air-sickness bag and wrapped them into a 
paper towel.  She would re-insert them upon finding out when her 
flight could leave for Germany.  In the meantime she would have 
to dry off, get some rest, and hope that the pellets still in her 
intestines would stay there another day.

Maria Elena re-counted 30 pellets in the paper towel and hid them 
in her backpack, which would add to the 70 still in her 
intestinal tract.  100 pellets…which hopefully she could get rid 
of within another 24 hours.  Her problem was that she only had 65 
pellets still inside her body, because she had forgotten about 
the five pellets that she had put in her pocket.

----------

A few hours later the sky lightened outside.  Representatives 
from the Danubian Ministry of Tourism showed up at the school and 
assembled the passengers in the gym to announce that three 
aircraft, which included Flight 2298, would be ready to depart 
Danube City later that morning.  A line of buses was ready to 
take the more fortunate passengers back to the airport.  Maria 
Elena panicked, realizing that she wouldn’t have time to re-
insert her pellets before leaving the school.  Still, she quickly 
boarded the bus.  She just had to make her flight.  The sooner 
she got on that plane, the sooner she would be in Frankfurt with 
her cocaine safely delivered.  

She promised herself…never again…I am never doing this again…it 
just isn’t worth it…

Upon getting to the airport, the courier immediately found a 
women’s bathroom and an open stall.  She had to have her cocaine 
completely concealed before going through security.  She took out 
the paper towel with 30 pellets, opened up the tube of Vaseline, 
pulled down her panties, and lifted up her skirt.  She lubricated 
the first pellet and worked it into her rectum…

After only 12 pellets it was obvious Maria Elena’s intestine 
couldn’t hold any more.  Already she felt an overwhelming need to 
go to the bathroom.  Shit.  That meant she would have to swallow 
the rest.  With every bit of willpower left in her, the desperate 
courier forced 18 pellets down her throat.  She gagged twice, but 
finally all 18 pellets were back in her stomach.  

Pain surged through the young woman’s guts as she approached the 
security checkpoint.  She began to sweat as she stood in line.  
She sent her backpack through the X-ray machine, and of course it 
was clean.  Nothing in her clothing either…if she could keep her 
body under control then she would make it…she would make it…

YES!  The Danubian cop at the checkpoint waved her through.  She 
put on her shoes and grabbed her backpack.

She sighed with huge relief as she noticed several dogs running 
around the terminal, sniffing passengers and carry-on luggage.  
The dogs wouldn’t be a problem for her, because she didn’t have 
any cocaine on her person, just inside, where they couldn’t smell 
it.  Or…so she thought…

Suddenly a large brown mixed breed dog ran up to the Colombian, 
sniffed her sweatshirt, and started barking.  Maria Elena froze 
with shock but desperately whispered:

“Callate, estupido animal…callate!”

The dog sat down and continued to bark loudly.  The animal’s 
handler and his partner ran up to the courier, who quickly 
learned that there was no subtlety about the way Danubian cops 
handled themselves.  In front of hundreds of passengers and 
airport employees, the female cop pulled out her pistol and 
pointed it at the Colombian’s head while the dog handler screamed 
at her in Danubian.  He grabbed her hands and cuffed them behind 
her back.  A second later Maria Elena felt his hands digging 
through her pockets and pulling out items as the dog continued 
barking.  

Maria Elena was just starting to get over the shock of being 
detained when she was hit with a much worse shock.  The male cop 
stuck his hand into the pocket of her sweatshirt and removed five 
grape-sized objects.  He examined them and handed a couple to his 
partner.  The dog became agitated, barking vigorously, jumping, 
and wagging his tail.  Despair swept over Maria Elena.  Now she 
knew why that dog had caught her.  She had completely forgotten 
about those extra five pellets.

The female cop kicked Maria Elena in the backs of her knees to 
force her to kneel, all the while keeping her pistol aimed at the 
unfortunate courier’s head.  The male showed the pellets to the 
dog, and the animal went wild with excitement.

“Harash sobackt.  Doc-doc harash sobackt.”  The handler petted 
the dog and then pulled out a couple of pieces of beef jerky and 
fed them to the animal.  Meanwhile, the cops’ section chief 
showed up with a photographer who immediately began taking 
pictures of the kneeling captive, in front of hundreds of 
spectators.  Maria Elena was horrified, but there was much worse 
to come.

The next picture was a trophy shot.  The two cops stood next to 
their prisoner.  Maria Elena tried to avoid looking into the 
camera, but the cops would have none of that.  The female grabbed 
her hair and forced her to raise her head so the camera could get 
her face.  There was another trophy shot, this time with the male 
cop smiling, holding the pellets in his hand.  As an afterthought 
the section chief told the handler to include his dog in the 
picture as well.

Pulling Maria Elena by the hair, the female cop forced her to 
stand up.  Again she tried looking down, hoping to keep her face 
hidden as much as possible.  The section chief nodded at the 
female cop, who again pulled hard on the detainee’s hair to force 
her head back.  He slapped her hard across the face, put his 
finger under her chin, and addressed her in English.

“In this country, criminals do not hide their shame.  You will 
show your dishonored face.”

“I…please…I no speak English…I…”
 
Another vicious slap exploded on Maria Elena’s cheek.

“Silence!  Who gave you permission to speak?”

Maria Elena began shaking with terror.  The female cop and the 
photographer grabbed her arms and led her out of the waiting area 
past the huge crowd of other travelers.  Those unfamiliar with 
Danubian law looked on in horror at the mistreatment of a 
prisoner, but the spectacle would be a harsh lesson for several 
hundred foreigners.  There was no tolerance, none whatsoever, for 
drugs in the Danubian Republic.



