Chapter 1

I grew up in a devout Christian home. My parents instilled in me that the only women worth meeting were the ones you meet at church. They were equally adamant about becoming a gentleman with a reputation to match. I attended a Christian college about a 5-hour drive from home. I was shocked my first year in the dorms at how wild most of my classmates were. Almost everyone I met drank and smoked weed. Many of the girls on campus were total sluts, even when they were sober. At parties, they really let loose. I started to withdraw and focus more on my studies.

I spoke with one of my professors about the behavior without mentioning any names. His response was that this was normal behavior for kids who had been sheltered and lived under a great deal of restrictions. These kids just needed to discover their own values, and college was a safe place to do that. I accepted his response but wasn’t certain that I agreed.

At the start of my junior year, I met an incoming freshman in the statistics class where I was the tutor. I immediately sensed that Christine was different than most of the girls I had met at school. The school had dress codes involving modesty, jewelry, and even “tasteful” makeup. Most girls pushed the edges of those boundaries when attending class. Although they still looked far more conservative than most girls their age. Christine didn’t push those boundaries.

I had been tutoring Christine for a little over a month when I finally felt like it wouldn’t seem creepy to ask a little more about her.

“I’m not the most socially active person, but I haven’t seen you at any evening or weekend activities.”

“No. I live at home with my parents and only come to campus for classes.”

“They don’t allow you to attend social activities.”

“My parents are strict, but not THAT strict. They want to meet the friends I’m attending with. I haven’t met many people I’d want to be friends with.”

“I’m hurt.”

“I’m still deciding. It might be easier if you started attending my church rather than the campus one. It would be a casual way to get to know one another better.”

Christine and I became good friends during the remainder of that school year. I spent plenty of time at her parents’ house, and we attended a few social events at school together. I was interested in becoming more than friends but was equally scared of losing my only close friend at school.

I risked reaching out and taking her hand while we were sitting on a bench during a hike. Christine responded with the biggest smile I had ever seen her have and then leaned tightly against me. We told her parents that evening that we had begun dating. By that point, her parents knew me well enough that they were excited about the news. Four months after we started dating, Christine and I were engaged to be married. We got married at the end of the school year.

I suspect that, like many men before me, I allowed Christine to do nearly all of the planning for both the wedding and the honeymoon. All I did was give her a budget for the wedding. While she was researching locations for a honeymoon, she came across a site on the web that encouraged Christian couples to combine a mission project with their honeymoon. There was even an organization that specialized in making those arrangements. I agreed with her that this was a good idea. It was smart from a budgetary standpoint. We would like to do a mission trip. We also wanted to do a honeymoon someplace special. It was hard to find a better way to achieve both of those. As an added bonus, the money for the mission trip could be given through a tax-deductible donation.

The mission organization was a great help in our planning. They arranged a host for a stay with who would also show us around while we were in the area. They even found us the best price on airfare. That did mean that we would have to cut our wedding night short by just a little bit and leave directly from the reception, but Christine and I both thought it would be worth it.

Besides, the reception was going to be held in the church fellowship hall. The meal was going to be a potluck served to us by the members. We arranged all of this to save as much money so we could focus on buying our first house together. Using the fellowship hall meant that there wouldn’t be any drinking late into the night, and people would likely be ready to break much earlier in the evening anyhow. We would have plenty of time to catch our 11:30 flight that night

The wedding went flawlessly. The simple dinner provided plenty of opportunity to visit with our family and friends. Christine remained in her wedding dress until it was time to leave for the airport. She returned from the bride’s room wearing a beautiful sundress that accentuated her petite, fit body. I had never seen her wear anything that would draw attention to her body before.

“Seeing you like this is making me question our decision to wait until we are settled on the island.”

“Mission accomplished. I have a different dress I can change into if you don’t want other men to see me dressed like this.”

“Does it make me a bad person if I like the idea that other men might be jealous of me?”

“And you don’t have any reservations that I might be causing those men to sin.”

I had to quickly rationalize to both myself and her, “Maybe jealous wasn’t the right word. I like them to think, ‘How did I guy like him ever end up with a woman that beautiful.’ They have no excuse if they allow that to turn into lust or envy.”

If I were being honest with myself, I didn’t know how any man could not lust after her the way she looked in that dress. I realize that any newlywed groom probably feels the same. I also liked it when I saw other men checking her out as we walked through the airport.

I felt lucky when we landed at our destination. We didn’t have any delays or missed connections. We were near the front of the customs line. We were only minutes away from being done with our travel.

“Ma’am, you have been identified for additional screening. Please follow me to the office.”

“Are you her husband?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You may accompany her if you wish.”

I followed Christine and the customs agent. He led us to an office that looked more like a doctor’s exam room than a place to meet. Seeing the exam table in the center of the room, I had a sinking feeling in my heart and some swelling in my groin.

“I must apologize. We are a poor country. We don’t have the same technology here. Please undress so that we can verify that you aren’t carrying any contraband.”

Glancing back and forth between the three black men in the room, Christine asked, “Is there a female agent who can do this?”

“We don’t have any female agents. In our society, some jobs are considered men’s work, and others are considered women’s work. Protecting our borders is a man’s job.”

This isn’t how I had imagined seeing my wife’s naked body for the first time. But, I was still excited about seeing her even if these strangers would be seeing her at the same time.

Christine’s pale, freckle-splotched complexion turned a deep shade of red as she started undressing. She reached under her dress and removed her white lace panties, preserving her modesty for a few more seconds. My new bride unzipped her sundress and lowered it slowly past her narrow hips, revealing sparse blonde hair covering her pussy.

She hesitated more when removing her lacy white bra than she did with her dress. After a short pause, she released the center clasp and let the bra fall open. Now I understood her hesitation. Christine’s bra was heavily padded. She might have looked like a C-cup with the bra; without it, she was barely an A-cup. Her breasts were tiny mounds topped with prominent nipples. I thought they were the most beautiful breasts ever, but I didn’t have any real-life experience to serve as a reference point. The guards cut open the padding in the bra to verify that my wife wasn’t hiding contraband there. I don’t understand how anything could have been hiding in her panties, but they cut those to shreds as well.

“Your clothes seem fine, now we need to check your body. Lay back on the exam table.”

Any remaining fight was already gone. Christine complied without protest.

“Place your legs in the stirrups. We need to search the normal hiding places.”

“Please, I’m still a virgin.”

“I thought this was your husband.”

“He is. We just got married yesterday afternoon and boarded the flight before we could be together for the first time. I’ve been saving myself for the special night that we will have together once we are alone.”

The guard used his fingers to spread Christine’s pussy lips.

“Look at this! She isn’t lying. She really is a virgin. Do we still need to search this cavity?”

“No, we can leave that hole intact. She couldn’t be hiding anything there. Let’s check the other hole carefully.”

The three guards lubed their fingers well and took turns probing Christine’s butt, looking for any signs of smuggling.

“Nothing obvious. Should we search deeper?”

“Let’s irrigate and flush out any potential contraband.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

The guards retrieved a large enema bag from a desk drawer and filled it with soapy water. The nozzle was noticeably long and thick. A guard massaged Christine’s abdomen while the sudsy liquid slowly filled her.

“Stand up and exercise. The movement will pull that liquid deeper inside you and flush anything you might have hidden. Our protocol is to wait 20 minutes before you can relieve yourself so that we only have to do this once. If you have an accident before the time is up, you will be punished.”

The guards were happy to provide guidance about the exercises. Christine began with jumping jacks. Her little tits barely bounced as she jumped up and down. Alternating toe touches provided a great view of her narrow hips, thin legs, and hairy pussy. During the squats, a few drops of brown fluid landed on the floor.

“Kneel on the bench for your punishment.”

I have to confess that the idea of seeing my wife get spanked was highly exciting. Even before we started dating, Christine would confide in me about spankings she received from her parents. I tried to express my empathy about being spanked as a grown child while asking about details that fueled my fantasies. I could hardly believe my luck that I was going to watch one of my favorite fantasies unfold in front of me.

The guard grabbed a strap from a hook on the wall. It resembled an extra-wide leather belt attached to a wooden handle. The guard lined up beside Christine and took a full swing.

“SMACK!”

I couldn’t believe how hard the swat was and that my wife didn’t even flinch. The rectangles from the impact were growing more red on each cheek. The second swat was just as hard. Each guard gave my wife five swats. By the final few swats, Christine was crying a little. Her tiny butt was one large red mark.