Strip search

1.4K 50 2
                                    

The cars glide to a halt, all the same I went flying. As if wed hit a brick wall instead of slowly parking. If it wasn't for Deans convent falling off his seat there would have been an Allie sized stain on the windshield.

As if was, I desperately crawled into some kind of safety as the boys were dragged from their positions.

"Bring 'em to be searched, wanna see if they got any weapons on 'em!"

I gulped, wondering if it'd be a pat down, or full on strip search, if that was the case I was in trouble.

Ross, Trace, and Chance were being similarly drug from the backs of police cars and pushed to the station.

Jerra looked at us in fear, his eyes wide. The doors were opened by another officer, who watched in disdain as the five boys were brought in.

"Where ya puttin' 'em cheif?"

"Doin' a search first."

She nodded. Letting the door close behind us.

The officers brought us into another room, the girls leaving. Two men stepping forward to unhandcuff them.
Oh no.

"Dean..."

"You are required to remove your outer clothing, here are towels it you wish to stand on them."

Dean was handed a gray towel, which he dropped to the ground. His jacket was first off, tossed to the awaiting officer. I huddled in the neckline of his T-shirt. He unbuttoned his jeans, sliding them dow n his pale legs, Jerra tossed a shirt to the other officer.
You're gonna have to hide somewhere...
Where?
Uh,
No.
You're choice.
Urg.
I dont want to either.

While the officers where busy inspecting the clothing tossed to them I whispered to Dean. He grimaced, then sighed.

"They search everything. Everywhere." He breathed.

Part of me felt relief that I wouldn't be stuck in another mouth. At the same time I grew even more panicked.

What would happen to me?

"However, it might work out, they aren't searching us for weed."

He tugged at his shirt. I cringed, but crawled into his parted mouth as the fabric pulled over his head.

It was wet, obviously.

And hot, and gross and terrifying as hell. But as the light was closed off and I plunged into darkness I felt less panicked. I trusted Dean not to swallow me.

His breath flowed over me. Saliva dripped onto me, soaking me again.
I am going to have note nightmares of this...
And we're going to smell terrible again.
And my clothes just started to actually lose the sent of spit.

Dean inhaled deeply, and I felt that he was beinging to grow worried. I rolled against his teeth as he bent over.
Ouch.

Then he pushed me into his cheek.

"You're f*cking kidding me right?"

His voice boomed in my head, and I rested awkwardly against his molars.

"Its-" the rest of the sentence was cut off as his mouth closed. His teeth ground together.

I waited in the humid room, pushed back into the center by a large wet tongue. My heart hammering, begging to be let free. My brain sent me images of what would happen if...

One of the more gruesome ones left me crying and shaking.

In that, Dean swallowed me, and I was pushed into his stomach. Where warm bubble acids splashed into my eyes, blinding me, and I felt for legs that weren't there, with fingers that were dissolving to bone.

Eventually though, he opened his mouth and spit me into his palm.

"You taste terrible kitten."

Hope you liked, vote if ya did. Me actually looked up the strip search process for this...it's really detailed and...thorough.
Anyway, loves yous. :)

Change of PerspectiveWhere stories live. Discover now