                                    SMUGGLERS BLUES (AND BROWNS)


This story contains the following adult content: M/F, F/F, Anal, toys, consensual/non-
consensual sex.  You mus be over the age of 18 to read this.  If you are not, or do not 
enjoy this kind of material, do not read further.

THIS STORY IS A WORK OF FICTION.  Any resemblance to any person, living or 
dead, is entirely a coincidence.

CH 4

	And so it went.  I got into the work, getting off on the money I was making on 
carrying massive dildos up my butt through customs.  I loved going about with every 
twitch making my butt SOOO happy.  The passengers didn't know, only my co-workers 
in the know knew.  That blond guy who first plugged his diamonds up my ass loved 
fucking more of them into me in a wide plug... I met another man who loved putting the 
rambone cargo rod into me... more on him later in this narrative... And the REAL fun was 
going through customs.  They had NO clue the dildos they saw FA's carrying were 
ANYTHING other than what met the eye: super pleasure toys filling me (& the others) 
up.  Of course, we'd meet with different agents, didn't want them catching on.  TOO 
many large dildos from one flight (or even one airline) at one time might raise questions.
And, of course, there WERE questions... it was absolutely delicious, acting like a brazen 
hussy in front of them... THAT'S not against the law, after all... & niether is... Man, it 
was a joy to pass through the scanners, knowing that they could see the big bong stuffed 
up my ass; but that they couldn't tell there was something INSIDE that huge bole inside 
me.  I remember one time I was stopped...

	This flight was a long one, from Hong Kong to L.A.  We got rotated around every 
few months, working different routes.  L.A. customs wasn't quite as familiar with New 
York stews like the New York agents were.  Still, I didn't mind the daring, the ballsiest 
carriers got the most fulfilling (financially) & FULL-FILLING routes, quite profitable 
ventures from more than one standpoint.  In three years working on 747s, I pulled down 
(at an average of $20k per week, in cash) close to $5,000,000.  Almost all of it I invested 
under an assumed name, a small percentage I spent on things I wanted & explained it 
away as gifts.  I loved fucking my ass raw, descending on a fat prong just before descent, 
putting on rubber panties, relishing the pole established in my butthole as I sat on it down 
to the ground (literally!) & waddled off the plane with my dildo asserting it's presence, 
carrying it through customs, out of the airport & off to the drop up my ass.  

	Now, the customs agents (men & women both) just drooled every time I came in, 
each and every one of them wishing it was he or she, instead of that glorious fuck toy, 
that was embedded up my rear end.  I could hear the whispers.  "What a nasty little 
skank!" "She's one horny bitch, always going around carrying a cock up her butt."  And, 
it's not illegal to carry a sex toy through customs in your body.  It's a personal item, after 
all, not an import purchased overseas & subject to customs fees.  There's no law that says 
your erogenous zones have to be empty on arrival, just empty of contraband.  (Not that 
mine were, but they sure didn't know that!) It's just a matter of what.  Condom boluses of 
coke or diamonds are illegal, big fat dicks are (obviously) NOT!  We hoped (counted on, 
figured) that customs would never get wise.  At other points of entry, more questions 
were asked, as we weren't so familiar to them, especially when you go through on a 
particular route the first few times.  They'd seen their own "home-girls" do the same 
thing, we just weren't THEIR 'home-girls'.  

	On my first return to L.A. from Hong Kong, they got nosy.  No surprise.  The 
customs agent covering the line I was in was a hot raven-headed amazon with a body like 
a porn star.  Noting the rambone up my rear end, she quietly took me aside, calling a 
supervisor to cover her own ass.  "Miss, we need to ask you some questions," she asked 
in a very coy manner.  "Do you normally go about carrying huge dildos in your rectum 
while you're working?" "Why, yes... I DO! I just ADORE... something BIG!" "Isn't it... 
quite... uncomfortable? It's rather unusual to see a flight attendant..." "carrying 
something so LARGE?" I interrupted.  "Surely, you've seen other stews, male AND 
female, holding a sex toy when they pass through?"  "Well, yes.." "We DO get horny on 
long flights, you know.  But, it's worth our jobs, not to mention OFFICIALLY against 
FAA/TSA regs for either airline employees OR passengers to engage in any type of 
intercourse on an aircraft.   There are no regs about SELF-pleasuring." "True."  "So, 
what's the harm? So, so I've got a ... NINETEEN inch... LONG... FOUR inch WIDE... 
phallic sex toy greased up my butt & held in with rubber underwear, so what?" "Well..." 
"That's my... PERSONAL... business... isn't it?" (said she who actually had several 
boluses of heroin, worth millions on the street, melded within the latex of the super shit-
sanke plumbing her alimentary heights!) "All the same, I think we'd better check with 
upstairs, don't you? Why don't I take her someplace a little more private?" said the porn 
star look-alike to her supervisor.  "Go ahead.  Think you'll... need a hand?" "No, I'm sure 
I can... handle... anything... than comes up!!"  Ohhh, yeahh... she just wanted to fuck 
me... and her supervisor knew it, & didn't care.  It's not like they knew what was inside 
the dildo & were expecting a bribe or something.  

	She led me away.  I winked at my fellow FAs. The other couriers smiled back, 
catching on.   We wound up in a quiet exam room in the infirmary.  Unlike if I was 
actually busted & they were starting the process, we were alone.  She undressed me, like 
she wanted to fuck me, & pulled my dirty dick deliciously from my butt.  If this amazon 
bitch isn't a butch anal dyke, I'm Uncle Sam.  "OOOOOOOHHHHH My GOODD!! It's 
WONDERFUL! WHERE... did you FIND it?" "In an adult bookstore in San Diego.  It's 
a real find, even though it's made by a big name.  There's not a... BIG... demand for these 
like there is for regular sizes! See the logo on the balls?" "Yeah... I'm gonna order me 
one of these right off their website.  I'd have to spend a lot of time looking, otherwise; 
BIG dicks are hard to find!" 'Ain't that the truth! Gimme a nice, sizable dildo any day." 
"Would you, possibly..." "At ANY other time, I'd say yes in a heartbeat.  I've got to 
catch a deadhead to D/FW in less than an hour, though.  Have you got a card, so when 
I'm next in town..." Her name was Jeanna.  "Ohhh...kay.  HATE to see you go.  Ahum.  
OFFICIALLY... examination of this... GLORIOUS... sex toy reveals nothing to indicate 
you're smuggling anything in it... [not that she could tell, it was put in during the 
manufacturing process! Too bad all these rambones get destroyed after one usage!] 
so, I'll give it back & let you go.  UNofficially... before you go..." "How about a little 
show, to remember until we get together?" "PLLLEEAAASSE...." "This IS an infirmary, 
got any vaseline?"  Jeanna grinned an evil leer & obliged me, giving me five family sized 
jars.  "I bring quite a few... new acquiantances... here."  "I'd NEVER have guessed!" I 
greased all of the five jar's worth on it or into me.  Then, I sat it on the center of the 
doctor's table & sat.... ooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....... DOWNNN... on it...  she 
could only rub her pussy to ecstasy as I sat down... down... and it went up... 
UUUHHUUPPP.... I peed & came as it bumped home... "aahhh... AAHH... 
AAAHHHHH... !!!!" "You're good!" "I wish we had time for more... MUCH more..." "I 
know.  You've got thirty minutes until the flight to D/FW departs.  And, you've got to 
move it... as best you can!", she trailed off in a titter.  "Remember... I've got your 
number, & I know where you work.  Next time... I promise." "I.... CAN'T... wait!"
She led me back out, finished the formalities, & I got outta there.

	And, so it went.  On Pacific & South American routes, the cargo was almost 
always heroin or cocaine, Atlantic routes were gemstones, precious metals, & various 
forms of money.  Hundreds of thousands of dollars up my ass at any one time. 

	Three years after she inducted me into her ring, Scarlet retired from the airline.  
Thanks to her multiple favors & backing, with the increasing seniority I was gaining, I 
got the gem of assignments: the Concorde.  A much easier run.  Jet setters, lots of money, 
winks by customs at JFK.  Enjoying the butt-stuffing, but getting tired of the risk, now 
that I had a few million in the bank under fake names, I decided to get out of couriering 
(personally), & went after a pilot's license.  I hoped I could follow in Scarlet's footsteps 
& lead the ring, & import only when I wanted to be stuffed full for several hours.  She'd 
have to 'retire' from the ring & pass the reins to someone else, sooner or later.  So, I got a 
pilot's license in my spare time.  Besides, flight commanders are suspected less than FAs 
are, even in times like these.  There were a few times, every now and again, where the 
chance of getting caught came home HARD.  Once in Miami, shortly before I got hooked 
up to the Concorde, they wouldn't wink at the obvious slutdom I was exhibiting.  They 
took me aside, gave me a complete exam, & thoroughly went over my rambone.  Thank 
God the latex was thick & they didn't see a need to cut it open.  Another time in L.A., 
when Jeanna & her grinning supervisors weren't around, same thing.  I sweated bullets 
they wouldn't figure out how to open the re-usable hard plastic cargo bole.  Got away 
clean every time, never got them confiscated.  After that epsidoe in L.A., I called up 
Jeanna.  I played mad, she smoothed things over, & we buttfucked each other HUGELY 
ten ways from Sunday.  (Butt, that's a story all it's own!)

	Things were almost too good to be true, otherwise.  That's why I kept being leery 
of the whole thing.  If I let my guard down, I'd REALLY be in the soup.  After five 
years, I'd made close to ten mil.  I wanted to get out of the 'high-traffic' end & go into 
business for myself.  I had my pilot's license, & many contacts wanted me to be their 
personal pilot.  What had begun as blackmail had become friendship, HUGE profits, & 
LOTS of butt-fucking.  I loved how things were, no matter how they'd gotten that way.  
And THAT'S when the ceiling caved in.

	Things had been getting tighter, security-wise.  That was a given after 9/11.  
Word had it the new TSA, Customs, everyone under the umbrella of the HSA was slowly 
starting to get suspicious of SO many F.A.'s & pilots coming through carrying large 
dildos in their bodies that they were thinking of... no one knew just what action.  Random 
checks? Confiscating rods? Banning carrying rods in, putting them on a list of forbidden 
items in luggage OR in the body? God forbid they should confiscate them during a take 
down & actually get one open & find the goods.  

	Unfortunately, I found out the hard way.

	After the Concorde stopped flying, I put in my paperwork for A.L.P.(AirLine 
Pilot) certification & beginning type training on MD-88s & 737s.  I was a long way from 
manning the stick of a heavy jet, I had to start small, like every other pilot.  I wanted to 
retire from this end of the business before things went south altogether.  While my 
paperwork was processed, I was put on to the Rio-Miami-JFK run.  I hated the going 
through customs in Florida, they were ALWAYS on the lookout for ANYTHING 
suspicious in Miami.  Even with the major smuggling money, things were still WAY 
tighter now than ever before.  I  did NOT want to have to go through the rigorous checks 
every time I landed.  I hoped the actual courier runs (as compared with normal cargo-less 
runs) would be only once in a while, every other week or so.  Still, I loved the run, the 
money was better with the increased risk, cargo = $$/BIG toys.  Rio was a fun place, too, 
even when it wasn't Carnival.  Then...

	Early one morning, we were on the leg from Rio to Miami.  A long 'red-eye'.  
Shortly before landing, I got myself set & stuffed my cargo tube up my ass.  On these 
runs, the contacts never got close to us.  I was good to go.  There were two others on my 
crew carrying via dildo,  and heaven knew who among the passengers was still muling by 
the riskier old ways.  As we descended, a passenger started foaming at the mouth, got 
spastic, & then STIFF.  He had every sign of a mule who'd swallowed his cargo before 
boarding, & had had one erode in his stomach.  They quarantined the flight, checking 
EVERY passenger & crew member thoroughly before they could leave customs.  When 
they got to me... 

	"You're the senior F.A. on this flight, miss?" "Uh-huh."  "Did you know that two 
of your female personnel have been found to be carrying sizable sex toys in their 
rectums?" "No; but I'm not surprised.  When you keep long hours like we do, you get 
tired, lonely, & horny.  Walking around with something inside you keeps the juices 
flowing, keeps your energy levels up when you're tired.  I do that myself." "Are you 
now?" "Yes, is that REALLY a problem? I've worked for this airline for close to ten 
years, working various international runs almost the entire length of my tenure.  I've 
carried one of multiple dildos I own, of varying size, up my ass while I'm working for 
most of that tenure; and no one in customs has ever thought it anything other than wierd 
or lewd.  And there are no regulations, federal or airline, that stipulate airline employees 
cannot carry a sex toy in their body while they're working.  Using it in public, that's one 
thing.  Privately wearing it about & acting normally, that's not against the law." "Well, 
miss, new regulations are coming down prohibiting passengers or flight crews from 
entering the country with a sex toy in their body.  Those are being lumped in with the 
regs re public behavior & sexual contact with other members of the flight crew or 
passengers while in flight.  Any found will be confiscated.  There are concerns that 
contraband is finding it's way into this country this way, or worse.  I'm sure you could 
imagine the devastation, if, say, a terrorist made a suicide bomb out of plastic explosive, 
shaped it as a phallic device, inserted it in a convenient orifice, & then detonated it on a 
plane or in another public place? A large penile device like you and your co-workers tend 
to use could easily be composed of 10-20 pounds of explosive. The effect would be... 
catastrophic.. on an aircraft.  We're going to have to examine you & your personnel 
further.  Your people are referring us to you, as the senior flight attendant, as to what we 
can do.  They're willing to submit to a BCS (body cavity search) & complete 
examination if you are; but only if you are.  That is their right.  Are you willing to submit 
to such a search?" 

	OH, SHIT.  We were sunk.  (I kind of knew that, deep in my stomach, when the 
whole thing started with that mule.) Yes or no, it didn't matter.  They'd search, legally, & 
we'd be DAMN lucky if they didn't find the cargo in any of our butt rods.  Still... "I most 
certainly will not.  That's an invasion of my privacy.  I'm smuggling nothing, and the 
only explosion my dildo is causing is an orgasm, not that that's any of your business." 
"I'm afraid we'll have to insist.  It'd be easier on everyone if we didn't have to get a 
warrant." "Until carrying a dildo up my ass on any airplane IS illegal, you'd better get 
one."  "Come with us, please." "Oh, very well."  Now, the pleasure turned to indignity as 
the rough-hewn hands of TSA doctors removed my dildo & fisted my holes none too 
gently in the name of national security. 

	 After the invasive searches & Xrays, they paid mind to my dildo, examining it 
thoroughly & cutting it open.  BUSTED.  The same for the other two, as well.  We were 
dragged off to federal holding.  WE... were in DEEP shit.  We'd be lucky to be dead.  
Then again....

END CH 4.
             


