Thursday, December 23, 2010

Merry Christmas!

Hello All! I hope you have a happy holiday with friends and family, and are looking forward to the new year! I know I am! There are lots of story ideas that I've had floating around for a while that I am finally looking forward to putting on paper (figuratively at least). I am really psyched for the final unveiling of a new comic by my good friend Knave (the legendary creator of bbtoons) that will be coming out some time at the beginning of next year. It is based on a story written by yours truly, and will include Sara and Boris, two characters from one of my earlier stories, and Sara's mother Stacey. When the cartoon is ready for release, the story will it is based on will be posted here!

Sorry, but I can't give anymore away than that at the moment, but you could always peruse the archive to see where Sara and Boris left off, and if you visit Knave's blog at, and click on April 2010, you'll see sketches of the three characters.

As a nod to those of you that will be traveling by air this holiday season, I've posted a short story I wrote a few weeks ago while I was on vacation. I hope you enjoy, and have a Merry Christmas!


Security Check

Martin stood with his arms folded and leaned against the wall as the long line of travelers slowly snaked their way passed him. He had two hours left in his shift and he was feeling bored. He clicked his pen in his hand as he counted the passengers, ticking them off one by one. Ten, Fifteen, Twenty. A family of four with two little girls paused in front of him as the parents struggled to keep track of their luggage while their children tried to squirm free of their parent's grasp to go investigate the toy store they'd just passed in the terminal.

Martin had worked in airport security for 18 years, and 7 of those years had been with the TSA. It wasn't a bad job - considering the economy, he knew he should be happy having a job at all. The pay was decent enough, and despite the occasional 'tough customer', he enjoyed working with people. The problem was with how the TSA operated. Every six months a new directive was being issued that would change their protocol and he would end up spending three days in pointless trainings and certifications.

The most recent change was the new body scanners. The airport had just finished installing four of the devices, just in time for the holidays. The scanners were top of the line, capable of penetrating through a person's clothing and generating a full body image in seconds. Martin had watched a news report on TV that showed passengers complaining about the new procedures and promising to avoid traveling by air, but luckily he hadn't encountered any of them at his job - though some people may have grumbled when they were pulled out of line, but most people went through the scanners without incident and were sent on their way.

There were of course some people who refused to use the new scanners. It was never clear to Martin why, especially since refusal of the scanner meant a full body pat down. They were becoming the worst part of his job. The search required a full contact, police style frisking that left no room for modesty. It was an extremely difficult and embarrassing situation at best and it was his job - but that didn't mean he had to like it.

Earlier that morning Martin had to preform a full body pat down to an overweight 50-year-old insurance salesman from Chicago who refused to be put through the new body scanners. It hadn't been pretty. The encounter left both men embarrassed and set Martin off in a sour mood for the remainder of the day.

Martin watched the clock and counted the minutes until his shift was over. He still had another hour, but at least the end was in sight. He started counting passengers again, but gave it up when he couldn't remember where he'd left off from earlier and simply watched the line crawl past him.

A dozen feet in front of him another TSA agent was directing travelers through the metal detectors. Occasionally she would pull a person from the line and send them through to the full body scanner. Martin counted - about one person out of every twenty passengers were selected.

He continued to watch for a bit longer until his attention shifted elsewhere and he lost track. When he looked again he saw an attractive young couple enter the line and put their carry-on baggage on the conveyor belt. They both looked like they were in their early 20's. The woman was tall and fair skinned, with shoulder-length brunette hair. She was wearing a tight black skirt and a white cardigan. Behind her, her boyfriend was pulling his shoes off and placing them on the conveyor belt with the rest of their things. He was a handsome youth, standing several inches above his female companion, dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans.

As they approached the metal detector, one of the TSA agents pointed at the man and waved him off the line. Martin began walking toward them, but was still too far away to hear the exchange.

"Sir, please step out of line. You have been randomly selected for enhanced screening." The TSA officer was explaining as Martin got closer.

"I told you already, I'm not going through that. I am happy to go through the regular detector." The young man replied firmly. His girlfriend looked worried as the other people in line started to stare at them.

"Listen sweetie, I'll go." She said in effort to appease both of them.

"No you're not." The man replied sharply.

The TSA officer seemed to sympathize with the young woman. "I'm sorry sir, but once someone is chosen, they must submit to the search. Please stand aside." Then as if an after thought, the officer turned back to the woman and said, "Ma'am, you can step on through and collect your baggage."

The woman looked at her partner for a few seconds, unsure what to do.

"Please go through ma'am." The officer repeated as she ushered the young man toward the full body scanner.

"I'm not going through that thing." He repeated as they walked.

The female TSA agent remained calm and nodded. "That's fine sir, then you will have to go through a full body pat down."

The young man huffed. "Christ, whatever . . ."

"Please wait hear." The agent said as she turned away and walked toward Martin. "We've got another tough customer requesting a pat down. He's all yours." She said with a smirk.

Martin grimaced as he walked up to the young man and directed him to follow Martin back to the private screening area. By now his girlfriend had passed through security and was waiting with the rest of their bags at the outside of the security check point, watching the two of them as they disappeared behind an 8 foot tall screen. From the inside, the area looked like an office cubical, except for the missing desk and rolling chair.

Martin directed the young man to stand tall and lift his arms to form a 'T'. He grumbled under his breath, but reluctantly did as he was told. "This is just ridiculous, all those people out there and you picked me."

Martin rolled his eyes as he frisked the young man's arms and torso. It was hardly necessary - the snug fitting t-shirt clung close to his body, revealing every bump and ridge of his muscular chest and abdomen, but Martin followed protocol and checked anyhow.

"I realize this is your job, but really, do you think I look like a terrorist?" The young man continued.

Martin shook his head. This kid was really starting to annoy him. He shook his head again. "No, sir." Martin said without further comment as he proceeded to pat down the back and sides of his legs. They felt skinny, and yet they had muscle tone.

"Widen your stance sir so that your feet are 18 inches apart." Martin instructed.

The young man looked at him skeptically and hesitated. Martin rolled his eyes. "Please sir, the sooner you comply, the sooner we'll be finished."

The young buck scowled at him for another moment before he did as he was told and widened his stance. Martin nodded curtly and knelt down and checked around his ankles.

"Seriously, you guys keep inventing new reasons to justify your jobs."

Martin grit his teeth.

"I mean, I get that, but why do you have to infringe on other people's civil liberties? Why can't you get a real job?"

Martin's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.

"What's wrong with you people? You like feeling up old people in wheelchairs and kids?"

The young man went on and on as Martin's hands traced along the inseam of his jeans. Martin was fuming with anger, and the more this kid yapped, the angrier he felt himself get.

"I hope you realize that you're actually performing an unlawful search right now. I know we're supposed to pretend that because you have a badge, it's OK for you to grab my junk, but if you didn't work for the government, I'd have you arrested for-" Suddenly his words cut out as Martin's hand shot up into his groin and closed around the soft jean bulge.

"Hey, what the hell man? Let go!" The young man yelled into the TSA agent's face as Martin squeezed the contents of his jeans.

On the outside, Martin kept his composure, but on the inside his blood was boiling. Martin grit his teeth and tightened his grip until the younger man squeaked.

"I'll ask that you keep your voice down sir and let me do my JOB."
Martin punctuated his sentence with another firm squeeze.

The young man covered his mouth and coughed. "Ugh, fuck."

Martin ignored him and continued to squeeze the contents of the young man's prominent bulge. "Now what do we have here?"

"Are you kidding? Dude, those are my nuts." The young man replied angrily.

"Is that so?" Martin asked as he sunk his fingers deeper into the youth's tender gonads. "I'm a little surprised. I'd of though a smart, good looking guy like yourself would have enough sense to show some respect to a man who's got you by the balls."

The young man nodded his head. His face was flush, but he no longer looked angry so much as he looked scared. "Yes sir, you're right. I'm sorry."

Martin allowed the muscles in his face slacken and he gave the young man a nod. "Alright." It wasn't much of an acknowledgement, but the young man sounded sincere. "Now that we've got that sorted, I'm going to ask you to remove your pants."

"Excuse me?" He looked back incredulously at Martin, but the TSA stared back at him.

"Your pants, take them off." Martin replied flatly.

The younger man continued to stare back at him. Though the sounds of the airport filtered above the divide, no one had come int to check on them. They were completely alone.

"Why do you want me to take my pants off?" The young man insisted.

Martin's jaw tightened. "TSA regulations stipulate that we can require individuals to remove loose or concealing clothing. I am within my rights, now strip."

"I want to talk to your supervisor." The young man replied.

"Fine sir, I will get him right after you comply and lower your pants." Martin shot back and gave his junk another squeeze.

The young man shook his head and angrily worked the buckle of his belt. When it was free, he unclasped his jeans and let them fall down around his ankles, revealing a tightly-packed pair of white boxer briefs. He stared back at Martin defiantly, every bump and curve of his manhood was visible through the soft cotton fabric.

"See, no God damn weapons, or drugs, or anything. It's all me down there." The young man said. His eyes were smoldering.

Martin's face was expressionless. He simply walked up to the young stud and rammed his knee into the young man's soft bulge. The boy cringed and bent forward. "Fuck, what the hell man?" He croaked.

Martin lifted the boy up by his shoulders and sunk his knee into the boy's juicy nuggets once more. "What'd I say to you earlier about respect, BOY?"

The young man was unable to respond and felt himself begin to gag as the taste of bile entered his mouth.

Martin kneed the young man in the crotch again, crunching his nuts up against his body. He double over and teetered on his toes as Martin held his knee in place, drawing out the agony as he continued to grind the poor boy's balls against his pelvis . When he could stand no more, the young man let out a miserable moan and collapsed on the ground, cupping his crotch.

Martin grinned as he stood over the young man's twitching body. "The next time you pass through airport security, you remember what I said about respect. After all, we are here to serve and protect you."

The young man's only response was a loud groan.

"I'm going to go get my supervisor now, so make yourself comfortable, it may take a while." Martin walked back out into the public screening area and checked his watch. Ten minutes left in his shift. He paused and looked back at the screening room and shrugged his shoulders. Someone else could finish dealing with the problem passenger - he was done. Martin nodded as he past the young woman standing at the edge of security and kept going, whistling as he went.

The end.

- And here's our young stud. -

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