The door to the customs office slowly creaked opened and a woman entered the room. She was young, attractive and scantily attired, dressed more for the warmer climes than for the weather that she had just left. For a brief second she stood tentatively in the doorway and looked about, letting her eyes pass over the spartan interior of the customs office.

There was not much to see. Besides the waist high counter that stood but two paces before her, dividing the room in half, there was a small, potbelly stove in the corner of the room upon which sat an old metal coffee pot. As well a tall, three-legged stool stood behind the counter and a framed photograph of some official was hung upon the opposing wall. Two flags bordered the portrait. On the top of the counter sat an old style telephone, one of those black, bulky ones with a dial. Outside that there was a pile of official looking stamps scattered about one end of the counter and a ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts at the other end of the counter and a small silver bell beside it.

The woman took a cautious step forward, still glancing around as she stepped up to the low counter. As she did she released the door without thinking and let it swing shut of its own accord. The door, connected by a heavy spring to the outer frame, slammed shut with a resonating bang that surprised and startled the woman.

Out of reflex she spun around and glanced behind herself, bewildered by the suddenness of the sound and embarrassed as she slowly realized that it had been her own folly that had startled her. Thus she was distracted when the guard entered the room.

The custom guard had been in an adjoining room when he had heard the door originally open. The sound of the woman's footsteps as she entered the building and the slamming of the door had confirmed for him that he had a customer. Quickly he buttoned up his uniform, secured his holster and put on his hat. It had been late in the day and he had not expected anyone to cross the border at this hour. He had gone into the backroom just a few minutes before, planning to prepare his supper. Now however that would have to wait. Duty called.

"Gutten abend Fraulein." the custom guard said as he entered the room.

His voice startled her. Surprised the woman quickly turned about and starred wide-eyed at the man who had just entered the room. The man was tall, very tall in fact and broad shouldered, whose bearing immediately told of a military background. While young and attractive, the man had a rugged appearance and an air of seriousness and maturity. He was attired in a dark, grey military uniform that barely contained the man's muscular frame. The woman's eyes quickly darted over the man, appraising what she saw. Her gaze took in everything about the guard, his appearance, his bearing, right down to the pistol and holster that hung from his uniform.

The guard came to a halt at the counter, standing beside the stool instead of sitting on it. Towering over the woman he placed the palms of his massive hands upon the countertop and looked down her. The woman blushed as her gaze met his gaze, as she saw his dark, deep set eyes look down at her. Instantly she knew that he was appraising her in the same manner as she had just done to him. Embarrassed by the sensation she turned her eyes away, yet still she sensed his eyes moving over her body.

Thought flickered within her head and uncalled for images flooded the woman's mind, images that teased at the potential and stirred expectation within her. The guard was big, powerful looking she thought. Young and rugged just like I like men to be. A smile slowly formed on her plump, full lips and cautiously she glanced back at the guard. His eyes were still moving over her.

Her body reacted instantly, betraying her before the dark stare of the custom guard. A shiver ran down her spine causing her to tremble with expectation, raising goosebumps on her naked arms and causing her nipples to stand erect beneath her light dress. The guard's gaze fell upon her bosom for a moment. Sensing his eyes upon her caused in a small gasp of anticipation to exit her parted lips. Excited the woman's cheeks became flushed with colour once again.

The man had appraised the woman as he had entered the room and walked the short distance to the counter where she stood. He had worked this job for over a year now and was very good at judging those who tried to cross the border from his checkpoint. Instantly the guard recognized the woman as being a foreigner. Her clothing alone revealed that to him. The sunglasses that concealed her eyes, her short-cropped blonde hair that gave her a boyish appearance and the flimsy spring dress that clung to her figure screamed that she was not a citizen, that she was in fact a capitalist whore. Her behaviour told him even more.

"Gutten abend Fraulein." the custom guard said once more as he came to a halt behind the counter.

For the next few moments there was silence in the room. The woman failed to respond to the guard's greeting once more. Instead she stood there for a second or two with her mouth slightly apart simply staring at him. It appeared that her mind was elsewhere for when at last she did respond it was for her to look away as if embarrassed.

Yes a capitalist whore thought the guard as he slowly began to become impatient with the woman. Oh, she was certainly attractive he thought as he stared down at the blushing woman. He had noticed that immediately upon entering the room. She was shorter than him with a fair complexion, and a fullness of body and form that was appealing. In fact staring down at her exposed cleavage the guard felt a stirring within himself that was certainly in contradiction to all his training. Yes he thought to himself contemptuously, very attractive and very desirable but still a western whore!

Still, regardless what he thought of her appearance or how it stirred him physically, he was a soldier on duty and he was quickly becoming annoyed at her. It was late and the border would soon close. Clearing his throat he spoke once more, firmly addressing the woman.

"Gutten abend Fraulein."

"What?" stammered the woman as if suddenly stirred from a dream, her voice soft, yet hesitant.

"Good evening Miss." the guard repeated, this time in English. His voice was edged with frustration and a slight touch of annoyance. An American he thought smiling to himself. He had been right; she was exactly what he had thought she was.

The woman however saw only the guard's smile as he spoke to her and to her it was a warm, friendly smile that was meant for her. The moistness that had formed between her thighs now became a tingle, a tingle of excitement and desire.

"Good evening." said the woman to the guard, smiling warmly at him as she did.

"How might I help you?" asked the guard courteously. His words were heavily accented but they were clear and direct.

"I'd like to cross back into the west," replied the woman. She continued to stare at the guard through her sunglasses, and to smile at him. What a wonderful voice she thought to herself; so strong, so firm, so manly.

"Papers please." asked the guard extending his hand towards the woman. He tried to ignore the way the woman stared at him, to ignore the sign's of arousal that was clearly visible in her response to him. He was on duty and while he was flattered by what he sensed, responding to it would be unprofessional. Besides thought the guard, this might all be a trick. She was after all an American, the enemy of his people. No responding would not be correct.

Responding to the guard's request the woman placed a small, cream colour handbag on the counter and opened it. From within she removed her passport. Carefully she placed it into the guard's extended hand, ensuring that her fingers brushed against his flesh as she did.

American whore he thought, smiling contemptuously to himself as he opened the document and flipped slowly through its pages. The passport was new, recently issued and marked only with the entrance stamp of his country. Unusual the guard thought. Again he flipped through the document carefully checking each page.

"Please remove your glasses," the guard said in a low tone as he finally turned to the identification page of the document and stopped.

"What," asked the woman in a startled voice?

"Your glasses, Fraulein, please removed them," the guard said once more, this time looking up from the papers and starring sternly at the woman. The woman's face was red with embarrassment and it was obvious that her mind had been elsewhere. A glistening of perspiration was upon her brow and a glanced at her heaving cleavage clearly indicated that the woman was excited.

Blushing once more the woman raised her hands to her sunglasses and slowly removed them. Slowly she folded them close and then placed them carefully on the counter top. The guard watched with interest, staring directly into the woman's gaze as her eyes were revealed.

The woman had deep blue-grey eyes that sparkled with excitement in the bare light that illuminated the office. Confidently she met the guard's gaze and held it with her eyes, smiling suggestively to the man as he compared her face against the grainy photo that was in her passport. The man stared at her intently noting the glint in her eyes and the smile on her lips. She was indeed attractive he thought silently to himself, even desirable, yet she is still a foreigner and one who should not be trusted. Silently rebuking himself, the guard returned to doing his job, giving no indication that the woman across from him had stirred anything within him.

Closing the woman's passport, the guard set it down on the counter, placing it closer to him than the woman, giving no indication that she could reclaim it. Then look the woman once more in the eye, and showing no emotion whatsoever the guard spoke.

"Luggage?" asked the guard in an authoritative voice.

"None!" replied the woman in a soft, gentle voice, her eyes gazing deep into the guard's face, returning his gaze.

"Was!" snapped the guard, looking thoughtfully at the woman before him. Impossible he thought silently to himself, yet he could see no bags with her except her handbag. Snapping up her passport once more he quickly flipped through the pages stopping on the page that bore the access stamp of his country.

"You entered my country three day's ago Fraulein," the guard said in a firm voice, closing the passport once more and staring intently at the young woman, "and you tell me that you have no luggage!"

"Yes!" the woman replied looking innocently, yet firmly into the guard's face.

The guard stared back blankly at the woman, his thought's buried behind is stern visage. His eyes held hers for a moment, searching for the answer that for the moment eluded him. Something was wrong about this woman. The guard knew this, experience told him so but he could not prove it. Not yet anyways.

"Auto?" the guard asked after a second or two of thought and reflection. His eyes flickered away from the woman's for a moment, glancing deliberately over her shoulder towards the door to the customs office. After a brief moment the guard turned his gaze upon the woman once more.

Instinctively the woman's gaze followed the guard's. Because he had shot a searching glance over her shoulder the woman was forced to turn in that direction to see what he was looking at. Seeing only the door to the room the woman turned back to face the guard. To her surprise she found that the guard was staring down at her, his eyes obviously playing over her body, silently undressing her. Blood rushed to her face, and wetness stirred between her legs once more as she realized that the guard was more man than official. A smile slowly appeared on her face and collecting herself, the woman returned the guard's stare with one of her own, holding herself before him in as pose that was clearly inviting.

"Fraulein," the guard said in a low but firm voice. "I asked if you had an auto, a car? Do you Fraulein?"

The woman blinked with surprise and then blushed. She had not expected the guard to continue in such a formal way. She had not imagined that he would have resisted her obvious charms. Her eyes lowered away from his gaze, and as redness returned to her cheeks, she stared instead at the counter and her bag that she clutched before her.

The guard saw the woman's discomfort and embarrassment. Good he thought silently to himself. Perhaps she will cooperate now instead of flaunting her sex at him. Not that she was not attractive or even desirable. Given other circumstances he would enjoy taking this woman to his bed. But not now, not when the woman is arrogant enough to think that he would be derelict in his duties because a woman with good tits threw herself at him. Never! He knew his duty.

"Will you answer me Fraulein?" the guard snapped after the woman failed to respond. Anger clung to his words and woman lowered her head even further, rebuked by his stern voice.

"No..." she replied in a soft, hesitant voice.

"No?" questioned the guard looking at the woman in disbelief. "No you will not reply Fraulein, or no you do not have a car?"

"No, I don't have a car!" the woman replied. As she did she forced herself to take a deep breath and look up into the guard's inquiring face. The face was hard, etched with wonder at the woman's reply, lacking any sign of interest beyond that of his duties. It took a great deal of effort for the woman not to look away.

The guard had met the woman's gaze with the resolve of his duty as a soldier of his nation backing him up. He was of course stunned at the woman's reply for it was incomprehensible for a visitor to his country to be without a car, and more importantly without bags. His eyes narrowed as he stared down at the young woman, thinking about this situation. Something was wrong with this woman, he knew it and while a part of him saw the hurt that was in her face, experience told him that this could all be a ruse, a trick either to catch him up by agents of his own government or by an enemy trying to sneak across the border.

The guard cleared his throat suddenly, startling the woman who instinctively stepped a few inches away from the counter. The guard smiled at the woman's reaction and then picked up her passport once more and quickly flicked to the page bearing the access stamp of his nation.

"So Fraulein," the guard said in a low, deliberate voice. "Your passport shows that you entered my country three days ago, yet you stand before me without baggage or transportation. Tell me Fraulein, where have you stayed for those three days that you did not need fresh clothing and how did you move about without a car. This checkpoint is a fair distance from the city, Fraulein. Do you expect me to believe you walked here by yourself?"

"No," replied the woman, her voice sharp and defensive. "I hitched a ride here!"

"You hitched a ride, Fraulein?" repeated the guard noting the change in the woman's tone and posture. "And with whom did you hitch a ride?"

"With a friend." came the woman's reply.

"A friend, Fraulein?" repeated the guard once more. He stared into her defiant face and realized that he was going to have to detain her. Wherever she had been, and with whomever she had been with were unknowns that must be inquired into. It was obvious from her expression that she was challenging him to force her to speak, believing in her western arrogance that her appearance and appeal would protect her. Confident that in the end, she, the American whore would be released victorious, free to leave and go as she chose. The guard smiled once more to himself and thought no. No, the woman would not go free and if it was in his power, he would see her broken.

"A friend!" the guard said once more, this time as a statement of fact. Closing the passport that he still held in his hand he slowly slipped it into the pocket of his tunic. As he did, he watched the woman, looking for any change in her attitude or bearing. It did not take long to show on her face. Her eyes widened in disbelief, perhaps even fear as the passport slipped into his pocket and he slowly buttoned it close.

"Fraulein, I must ask to examine your handbag," the guard said in a steady firm voice, extending his hand as he spoke. "Please give it here!"

"What?" said the woman, her voice quivering as she spoke. At the same instance the woman took another step back away from the counter. Before her she clutched her handbag as if to protect it from a thief.

"Nein, Fraulein!" the custom guard snapped sharply at the woman. As he spoke he placed his hand on the gun that he wore at his hip. "If you continue Fraulein, if you take one more step towards the door you will force me to draw my pistol. I assure you Fraulein I will shoot. I have no reservations in this regard. Now step back here and give me your purse!"

"But..." stammered the woman, her eyes travelling from the guard's face to the hand that was now hidden behind the counter, the hand that was on his gun.

"Nein, Fraulein!" interrupted the custom guard. Slowly he drew his pistol and pointed it at the trembling woman. "There will be no buts! You will obey or I will shoot, verstehen Sie!"

The woman stared at the gun for a second and then nodded. Whether she truly understood or not was unimportant. As she slowly stepped back towards the counter, the custom guard, still holding his pistol on her, reached out with his other hand and took the handbag away from the woman.

"Gut!" he muttered half to himself, half to the woman after taking the bag firmly into his grasp. Carefully, he replaced his pistol into his holster and then returned his attention to the bag. Quickly unsnapping the clasp that secured it, the guard yanked the bag open, turned it upside down and proceeded to empty its contents onto the counter top. As he did, he watched the woman's face. He smiled with confidence and satisfaction, silently congratulating himself, as the woman looked away her cheeks flushed with colour.

"So, Fraulein, let us see what we have here." the guard said deliberately drawing the woman's attention back to what he was doing. Upon the counter there was a small pile of debris. Small coins were scattered here and there, covered by a clip of bills of various denominations. There was also a tube of lipstick and something else, hidden beneath the pile of bills. Reaching down the guard lifted the bills from the top of the pile to reveal what was there.

"Mein Gott!" declared the guard in a surprised voice. His eyes went from the counter top to the woman and back again. Quickly he snatched up the object that was lying there and thrust it towards the woman.

"Was, Fraulein, is this?" snapped the guard angrily. In his hand was a vibrator, lavender in colour, small, no more than four inches in length and an inch in diameter. A woman's sex toy, it sat in the guard's out stretched hand, screaming silently for the woman to reclaim it, to confess ownership of the intimate object. The woman however looked away and refused to speak.

"So, that is how it is to be Fraulein!" declared the guard. Quickly he stepped away from the counter and began walking around it towards the woman. As he did he drew his pistol once more and pointed it her. The object that had been in his extended hand was thrust absentmindedly into his pants pocket.

"Now Fraulein, you will come with me!" the guard said as he reached the end of the counter. Pointing the weapon at the woman the guard gestured with the barrel of the pistol from the woman towards the door that led into the backroom of the guardhouse.

"But..." stammered the woman again, her face reflecting obvious fear and hesitation.

"Nein Fraulein!" growled the guard impatiently. "I have said there will be no buts. You will do as I say or I will be forced to shoot you."

The guard raised his pistol and pointed directly into the woman's face, emphasising his threat. The woman's eyes widened at the sight of the weapon so close to her. The guard once more indicated for the woman to move. This time, her head dropped in resignation, the woman obeyed. Carefully she squeezed pass the guard and walked slowly towards the door he had indicated.

"Go on." the guard said firmly as the woman reached the door. "Open it Fraulein."

Slowly the woman extended her hand and took hold of the door handle. It was a lever type and it offered little resistance as she pressed down upon it. As the latch slipped free, the door swung inward revealing the room beyond.

"Enter Fraulein!" the guard commanded. He had followed her over and was now standing a few feet behind her. His pistol was still out and he held it at the ready, pointed deliberately at the centre of her back. The woman looked from the room to the guard and then moved into it, the realization that she had no choice clearly etched on her face.

"Gut," declared the guard following her into the sparely furnished room. "Now Fraulein, you will remain here. As you can see there is no escape from this room. No windows or doors save this one and I will be guarding it. You will not be crossing the border to night Fraulein. Nein! Instead you will be questioned about what you were doing here in my country, without luggage or a car, with this decadent capitalist object for three days."

The guard paused for a second taking a moment to appreciate the situation. The woman had glanced around the room as he had spoke, recognizing what he said to be the truth. Her face fell as she realized that there was no escape. Her breast heaved in distress and she fidgeted with her hands, refusing to look at the guard.

"Now Fraulein you will remove your clothing." the guard said bluntly to the woman.

"What?" gasped the woman in surprise, her head snapping up and her eyes fixing upon the guard's face. The shock and disbelief was obvious in her expression. The guard smiled at her reaction.

"Yes Fraulein," the guard said once more. "I will leave you for a moment to call for assistance. While I am gone you will remove all your clothing and wait. I will be calling for a female officer to come here and examine you. It will be a thorough examination I assure you. Cooperate and it will be quick and private, between you and the female guard. Resist and I assure you that you will have an audience. A very large audience, verstehen sie Fraulein!"

"Yes!" the woman said, hurt and anger tinting her voice. Yet she held his gaze with her eyes, exchanging a look that still suggested that surprised or not, embarrassed by the situation and helpless before the armed guard, she would still stand her ground. No matter what!

"Gut," said the guard once more, ignoring what he saw as last minute posturing. Glare at me rebelliously if you wish, but you will lose in the end. Duty will prevail against the games of an American harlot.

"Now I will leave you to undress. A female guard will be here soon. Obey her and all will be alright."

The guard did not wait for a response from the woman. Stepping backwards he exited the room, closing the door separating the two rooms. The woman was left alone to do as she had been commanded; yet she did not. Instead she glanced about her appraising the place where she had been left.

The room appeared smaller that the other, about half the size of the customs office. There were no doors save the one leading to the office and no windows. There was a single large wooden table, old and sturdily made in the centre of the room with a metal cup, plate and utensils on it, and a mismatched chair that stood next to it. As well there was a matching potbelly stove similar to the one sitting in the customs office. Beyond this the only other piece of furniture was an old, metal frame bed that looked very uncomfortable and extremely rickety.

A shiver ran down the woman's back and instinctively she embraced herself, attempting to stem the fear that was building in her. Shaking the feeling from her, she walked quietly over to the door to the room. Pressing her ear to the door she strained to hear what was happening in the other room.

Fortunately the door was thin and cracked so it took little or no effort to hear beyond it. Unfortunately by the time the woman had decided to spy on the guard it was too late. All she caught was a guttural word or two and then the sound of the phone being replaced on its cradle. Then came the sound of the guard's boots upon the flooring, pounding hard as he walked towards the door. Frightened the woman quickly backed away into the centre of the room.

The swung open and the guard stood there glaring directly at the woman. His face was stern, hardened with resolve. As he spied the woman his eyes narrowed and anger crept into his expression coupled with frustration. He took two steps into the room and then closed the door behind him.

The guard said nothing to the woman, just stared at her for a second, his powerful arms dangling limply at his side. Then casually he reached up and removed his hat exposing a head of closely cropped blonde hair. Turning where he stood, the guard hung it on one of the hooks by the door. Then to the woman's horror the guard took hold of the snaps and buckles to the harness of his holster. Slowly he undid this, slipping it off when he was done and hanging it from the same hook beside the door.

The guard paused for a second, noted the expression of concern upon the woman's face but still said nothing. As he met her gaze with his own, the guard slowly began to undo his tunic, unfastening one button after another. When this was done he slipped it off and turned to hang it on the second hook that was positioned beside the door. The woman took one more step backwards as she began to realize what was about to occur. Her eyes widened with shock and fear became etched upon her face as silently she watched the guard reach into his pocket and pull out a pair of surgical gloves.

"What are you doing?" the woman asked anxiously, watching the guard roll up the sleeves of his shirt.

"You were told to remove your clothing Fraulein!" the custom guard said in a stern tone, ignoring the woman's question. As he spoke he put one glove on one hand and the other on the other hand. The latex snapped audibly against his flesh as he pulled them up his arms.

"But..." stammered the woman.

"Nein Fraulein!" snapped the guard taking a step towards her. "You were told to remove your clothes, now do it!"

"No... !" cried the woman in fear. Again she stepped backwards, retreating from the approaching guard. This time however there was no more room to retreat. The woman banged up against the table that stood in the centre of the room. The force of her movement knocked over the cup that had been sitting on it sending it rolling off the table and clattering to the floor. Instinctively, the woman turned to see what was blocking her way and what had made the noise.

The guard saw his opportunity and took it. Quickly he rushed forward and taking hold of the woman spun her about so that she was now facing the table. Size and strength ruled, with the guard easily dominating the moment. Forcefully he took hold of the woman's right arm and pinned it behind her back. His left hand shot out and grasped the woman's neck from behind and his momentum carried her forward. In a second before she could even react the guard had slammed her against the table and pinned her there.

"No!" she cried as her body struck the tabletop. The guard however did not listen. Instead pinning the woman firmly against the table, using her twisted arm to immobilize her, the guard quickly reached down and unfastened his belt. With one smooth move he pulled it from his pant loops and then slipped about the wrist of the arm that he was holding. The woman squirmed against his actions, her free arm flailing and her legs kicking wildly. Unfortunately her attempts were weak and futile.

Having looped the belt around the wrist of the woman's pinned arm, the guard pulled it tight. He then released his grip on the woman's arm and took hold of belt strap, keeping the woman pinned with the weight of his body. Pressing down upon her, his groin shoved against her ass, the woman gasped with surprise at the firmness that she detected in his pants.

The guard however took no notice of this, focused as he was at securing the woman's arms and ending her resistance. His free hand snapped out and took hold of her left arm, which had been flailing madly to one side, lashing out at him in a futile attempt to force him to release her. Once he had firmly grasped her arm he pulled it behind her back, pinning it against her back so that her two wrists were crisscrossed. Then as quickly as possible he lashed the belt strap about her wrists, pulling it tight as he did, weaving it in and out to ensure that once secure she would not be able to free herself.

All of this took but a few minutes, yet to the woman, angry at the guard, embarrassed at the situation and afraid of what was about to happen it had seemed like an eternity. Her heart raced with excitement and her body trembled with rage. When at last the guard had tightened the last loop of the belt about her wrist, and had stepped away satisfied at his work, the woman tried to free herself. But it was to no avail and after a few desperate attempts; she gave up, collapsing against the table waiting for what would come next.