Words by Rain DeGrey

I never travel without dildos. Because you never know. And like a Girl Scout, I always want to be prepared. Because you never know when one might run into a hole in need of stuffing. And I am a giver. A generous sort of person, that's me.

As a dildo connoisseur, I don't believe in the cheap stuff. I don't see the point of buying a cheap piece of $20 plastic. Wedging a hard chunk of plastic in someone’s holes doesn't do anyone any favors. No, I go for the best quality dildos that tend to run around $120 each. Good dick is a proper investment, and at this point I have easily over $2,000 worth of dick. Obviously, when one has put that much money in a hobby, you aren't going to risk being separated from your investment. Which means no checked bags ever. All my dildos are carry on only. My dick stays with me. And the TSA loves me for it.

To date, I have never gotten through airport security without me and my bag being pulled aside for further inspection. Either I am the most exciting thing to happen to the TSA all day or dildos look really suspicious when scanned. I am not sure which it is, but I suspect that most TSA agents secretly have a public humiliation fetish, as they always manage to drag out their needed inspections. I once had an agent pull my strap on harness and dildo out of my suitcase as I was exiting Las Vegas and make me scan them again separately in one of the grey bins as the rest of the line gave me the stinkeye.

“I guess what happens in Vegas doesn't always stay in Vegas, huh?” he chuckled as he winked at me. I stared back blank faced. If it was an attempt to rattle me, it failed. You can't shame the shameless. If anyone was uncomfortable, it was all the other folks in line. I was only pissed because it meant I was going to have to wash my harness and dildo all over again. Those grey airport bins are FILTHY.

Out of all the various dildo fondling that I have had to endure over the years from the TSA, the worst one was the one where the guy wouldn't stop talking about enemas and his upcoming colonoscopy. I already knew my bag was going to get pulled aside, as I had nine dildos packed in separate ziplock bags, a large assortment of lubes (all under three ounces, thank you very much) and a sure shot attachment, which is basically a long length of metal tubing that one attaches to a shower head to clean out their ass. My bag of tricks must have set off all of the alarms and sure enough, they pulled me aside.

First I had to wait as the woman ahead of me was getting her breast milk tested for explosives. The agent (let’s call him Billy. I never got his name but Billy works) was slowly and dramatically inserting strips into this mystery fluid that looked and smelled exactly like breast milk to make sure this tiny Asian woman was not smuggling a liquid bomb on her plane.

All the while Billy’s assistant was struggling to get the string back on a box of fudge that she had been inspecting. Evidently they don't teach you how to tie up boxes with string in TSA school and the more Billy’s assistant tried to get the string back onto the box of fudge the more tangled the string became until eventually her hands were snarled in a cat’s cradle knot. In the end, the string was too much for the assistant to conquer and she had to use tape to put the box back together. The Asian lady took her mangled fudge box and pawed-over breast milk and wandered off.

“Alright, who is next?” said Billy, looking for fresh suitcases to investigate.

I stepped up and in the interest of saving time looked Billy directly in the eyes and said “Just so you know, I have over a thousand dollars of dick in my carry on and that is probably what caused it to be pulled aside.”

Far from discouraging him, Billy’s face lit up and his hand eagerly reached for the suitcase zipper. I could tell this was probably going to take a while. He rooted through the few clothes to get to the exciting stuff, laying out my ziplocked dicks all down the counter. “What's this?” he asked, holding up my sure shot shower attachment.

“That is something that you install in a shower so that you can prepare your ass for anal play,” I replied.

“Oh really? Like an enema? Can you do it yourself? I once had an 80 year old woman give me an enema and it was HORRIBLE. Never again. I have a colonoscopy coming up and I need something to clean myself. You know, for health reasons.”

“Yes, it is just like an enema and yes, you can do it yourself,” I told him while trying to get the mental picture of an 80 year old woman giving him an enema out of my head.

“Where do you get one? Do they ship discreetly?”

“I got mine at Mr. S and yes, they do ship discreetly.” I watched as he wrote down the name on a piece of paper. No way was I telling him that Mr. S was a store for gay leathermen. His enema loving ass was going to get to find that one out all on his own.

“What is this thing?” Billy asked, holding up an enema bulb.

“That is also for cleaning out one’s ass.”

“Eh. I like the shower thing better,” Billy said as he shoved the bulb back into my suitcase and continued rooting around.

Evidently my dick must look really suspicious, as after going through all of my butt cleaning supplies Billy switched his attentions to my cock. Using his residue swabbing wand, he started opening up all of the ziplock baggies one by one and wiping down the insides. It took him a very long time. He was focused and methodical, a look of concentration plastered across his face. I tried to keep my patience while eyeing the clock. While my dick IS explosively good, there are no bombs packed in it and I didn't want to miss my plane because Billy couldn't stop fondling my junk.

The residue testing machine told Billy what I already knew: there was no bomb residue on any of my cocks. I was not a sexual terrorist and I was not going to run rampant down the aisle of the plane threatening people with my dick. I am positive it was with reluctance that Billy put away all of my dildos. He seemed sad as he pulled the zipper shut.

“Mr. S for the shower attachment thing, right?” he asked, trying to draw out the moment.

“Yes. Mr. S. I swear by them,” I replied, going around the counter to remove my suitcase for his hands. “Now if you don't mind, I have a plane to catch.”

Billy watched me go for a moment before turning his attention to the next suitcase. There was national security matters to attend to and he couldn't be distracted by his love of enemas any longer. At least I made my plane in time. I can't say that I am looking forward to my next flight-the dildo examining always takes so long I have to build in extra time to account for my security clearance…

And no, traveling without my dick is not an option. What if I needed it for some reason?? It would be horrible to be caught dickless and unprepared. I just have to get used to the TSA being all up on my junk. So it goes.

Rain DeGrey is a veteran performer with over eight years in the industry who is blessed with both an extremely open mind and a very twisted sense of humor. When she is not being a Professional Naked Person she keeps herself busy as a writer, educator, and performer. For more Rain DeGrey, go to raindegrey.com, raindegrey.net and @raindegrey on twitter.