Stepping out of my panties, I stand up; my legs close together, as he motions for me to place my panties in the bag. My hands shaking, face bright red, thinking it cannot get any worse; I drop my panties in the bag. He steps back, asks me to look in the camera, and takes a picture. I look at the camera, looking displeased, as he takes more pictures. ?Spread your legs? he sternly orders. ?Spread? But why? I say, my voice shaking. Scared, of been sexually violated, knowing that I cannot complain to anyone. ?Now!? he orders, ?I will not ask again?. Slowly, I shuffle my legs apart, still wearing my platform high heels. ?Further? He orders, as I spread further, my feet nearly one meter apart. He pulls out a rubber glove, puts it on, as he explains, ?I need to check to see if you have hidden any contraband inside your orifices, if I experience and resistance, on your behalf, I will call in the guards, to ‘scrutinize’ you?. This sends a shiver down my spine, not really understanding exactly. The friction caused a lingering trace of his scent to invade her senses, a potent mix of spice, soap and pure male that upped her hormones another notch. She surreptitiously inhaled, knowing that if she were to rub her thighs together to ease the ache building there, the naked lips of her sex would be slippery with desire. He dropped his arm but made no move away from her otherwise. They stood in silence, surrounded by the muted music coming from within the nightclub. She hadn’t lied to him. Physically she was alright; it was her emotions that were a wreck. She realizes that she is virtually plastered to a man who, while having saved her from a 3 am trip to the hospital, had also shaken with the need to crush the skull of the creature who’d insulted her. She was both enamored and terrified of him in equal measure. She felt him shift and was puzzled when he stopped. She’d expected him to leave and belatedly realized that he had stopped because his braid was wrapped around her hand..
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