[Warning, this fictional story contains elements of NBM - a detached parts fantasy. If it isn't your thing, you can turn around now]

Jackson and Tara stepped off the propeller plane, feeling the immediate hit of the Caribbean humidity cut with the ocean breeze. The newlyweds had saved up for a honeymoon getaway to an exclusive hotel at the recommendation of a few friends who had gone before - and a few who wished to go in the future.

St Denis de Paris, a small lonely island in the warm blue sea, was renowned for its hospitality and luck with dodging hurricanes, though the lengths it took to get to the island prevented it from getting overrun with tourists and developers. The locals prided themselves on the experience and took great steps to preserve it.

Tara clasped her hand in Jackson’s as they walked to customs and security at the surprisingly small but sophisticated airport. Jackson had planned the trip down to the day, which took a lot of stress off of Tara’s mind so she could focus on writing thank yous from wedding gifts or the mountains of paperwork in getting things changed over in her new name - as she took her husband Jackson’s last name.

Jackson looked over at his new bride. They were still in the afterglow of the wedded bliss, and took every chance they could to physically show their love for one another. Jackson couldn’t believe a girl as wonderful as Tara fancied him and Tara felt blessed to have a caring, dutiful partner who also knew how to have a good time. Jackson stood a little taller than Tara and would from time to time peak down her top to glance at her cleavage - she was his and he was hers.  When Tara did turn back to face Jackson, he’d avert his eyes quickly but she knew and took joy in knowing she was desired.

The line for checking passports was pretty short, as it was a small plane. The gates for the guards funneled people into 3 lines, and so the happy couple walked together into the middle line.

“NEXT! ONE AT A TIME! EVEN IF YOU ARE TRAVELING TOGETHER,” shouted the female guard. Jackson motioned to Tara, “Ladies first,” and let go of her hand to let her go to inspection. Passport in hand, she handed it over to the guard in police regalia. Jackson was a bit far to hear their conversation, but sounded like standard “Where are you staying? Who are you traveling with? - (to which she pointed back to Jackson) - How long are you visiting?” questions followed by scanning the passport in some fancy device. A red light blinked following the scan.

“Sorry ma’am, just need a few follow-up questions to verify your identity, follow me into this room,” another female guard said with a gentle but firm authority. That short guard walked Tara into a side room to the left. Tara looked back at Jackson and shrugged her shoulders - she didn’t want to think, she just wanted to get to her vacation. She disappeared behind the door.

Jackson was next. He stepped up with his documents and began the process with the guard. After answering a few questions, she scanned his passport and it returned a yellow and green flash from the machine. Great, Jackson thought. The border guard assured him, “Looks like you were randomly selected for our enhanced security. Nothing to worry about since you appear good to go but out of abundance of caution, we have to be on watch for body smugglers and randomly test travelers. Please step over here.”

“Body what?” Jackson wondered aloud. His next thought was why was there a metal collar placed around his neck by a third guard behind him - another female almost as tall as him. Were all the guards female on the island? This guard pushed a button on the side and Jackson felt a loud whirr before feeling cold metal pushing through his throat. He was beginning to panic - no one said anything about this in the travel blogs or among his friends. It wasn’t painful but he felt a bit detached - in fact, his head was now detached from his neck and only held in place by the collar.

The taller guard pulled his head off his neck and set it on a conveyor belt. Jackson, horrified, saw his body reach up to his neck, under his instinctual direction, and he tried to guide his body to his head moving down the belt. He could only manage a few steps from this perspective before an additional guard grabbed his arm and with the help of the tall guard, walk his headless body into a side room on the right. He’d never seen his body from this angle - he had to admit he could see why Tara liked having a his larger body around like a security blanket - and was happy to see the progress he had made in the gym showed up in his glutes and calves. He heard the guards say “Protocol 141 for White, Jackson” and a sticker was slapped on his forehead. His stumbling body was ushered into the room and his head went through an opening to a well-lit room with a wooden table in the middle.

A younger guard with a walkie-talkie picked him up from the stopped conveyor belt. She inspected him, checking under his neck stump and comparing his face closely to the printed version of his passport.

“Please answer truthfully and if you feel anything, please let me know,” said the young guard, who decided to unbutton a few buttons from the top of her uniform. She certainly was the bustiest of the guards so far, thought Jackson.

He was placed on the warm, wooden table, the unfamiliar feeling of his neck planted on a solid surface was jarring but he just wanted to get out, back in one piece, and with Tara in his hotel.

“What is your name?”

“Jackson White.”

“Your date of birth?”

“December 24, 1995”

He felt his body sit in a chair. But the guard in front of him had his attention as she took another button down.

“Where are you staying?”

“Sol y Sin Cabeza resort, with my wife Tara.” Jackson did concede it was a weird name for a hotel.

The guard wrote down a few items and took off her entire shirt, leaving her uniform cap on.

“And what do you think of these?” She unclasped her bra, letting her heaving chest bare and breasts bouncing with each step around the table to him. She leaned over.

“Um, they, they look great?”” Jackson said nervously. What was going on? And yet he was getting harder - from the other side of the airport, he felt his arousal stretching his shorts.

“Look great or feel great?” She cradled her boobs for a second, before picking up Jackson’s decapitated head and putting him between her milkers - shaking them against the sides of his face and having him motorboat her.

More government agents should be like this, Jackson thought. “FEEL GREAT!” Jackson shouted. It was refreshing to be the one being handled, quite the role reversal but he was unsure of the status of the rest of him, until he felt his shorts pulled off. He was not ready for a cavity search but was it less invasive than getting your head chopped off?

Then, he felt a warm wetness surrounding his erect cock. Jackson’s head was caught off guard - a “GUH” uttered from him from his position between the guards’ tits. The guard stopped and asked him. “So, what do you feel now?”

Whoever was sucking his dick was going back and forth and gently biting it like Tara would sometimes. “I feel, like someone is giving my body fellatio? A blow job? It feels good.”

The guard picked up her radio, and spoke in Spanish into it.  A static voice seemed to agree with her and so the guard began to get her top back on.

“You passed, Jackson. To combat body smuggling, we have to make sure that it is really your body you are wearing. Looked like you lost some weight from the driver's license in the database so that also triggered the random search odds.  Based on your reaction, didn’t look like you had been separated from the neck before but we have to check the connection between your head to your body and body to head. And why not have a little fun with it, we are in paradise,” the guard winked.

Jackson was relieved this was almost over, but not relieved that the blow job had ended before he had a chance to, well, blow.  “Thanks,” he said as another door opened and he saw his headless body, sporting a tacky flower shirt and raging hard-on, walk through, guided by the other guards. “Hey body!”

The guard who smothered him in her chest lifted Jackson’s head back onto his shoulders and with a snug push down, he felt reconnected as if it had never happened. He touched his face and neck to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Go ahead, try it,” the taller guard said.

Jackson pulled up and sure enough, he could detach and reattach his head. This could make intimate time with Tara interesting, he thought, with his head held like a football in his right arm. Wait. Tara. Where was she? Caught up in his own predicament was the concern Tara was alone or worse.

“So if I’m good to go through, where is my wife Tara?”

The two guards looked at each other, seeing who wanted to notify him. The taller one spoke.

“Tara checked out on 99% of our questions and background but when we saw her driver’s license, the last name on the card didn’t match her passport or plane ticket. And she had blonde hair in that passport photo.”

Jackson gulped. He thought he had everything ready on the trip and it was this change to her new last name on the driver’s license that tripped things up? They had booked the ticket under her maiden name since it matched the passport and he must’ve applied for her new driver’s license not thinking it would cause an issue.

“So, where is she? Is she in trouble?’

The guards broke down their rigid outward appearance and bent over laughing. “She’s OK. Go see for yourself!”

Jackson put his head back on his neck and walked out the door to a headless body suspiciously wearing the clothes his wife wore on the plane. No it was the headless body of his wife! Jackson turned around to the guards, eyes panicked and wide.

“Process demands we “detain” her but this mismatch of names happens all the time for the honeymoon crowd. So, to keep our jobs and our own heads, we have to hold onto hers until the office in the U.S. opens to confirm. Miss Tara thought it might be fun for you too to have her body to yourself, and she had the idea to verify your body by providing, um, “oral confirmation” and we could match up your reactions from the separate rooms. Don’t worry, she will be taken care of here with the others, it’s a nice sunset view. And then she will be valet delivered to your hotel free of charge, in fact you may get comped.”

Jackson looked back at his beheaded wife. She must’ve been within earshot because her body gave a thumbs up as if to agree with the plan. If she was OK with it, he could be too. He hugged her from behind, partly to press his erection against her butt and to look down over her neck and down her sundress. Tara’s hands reached up to his arms and gave a gentle squeeze, letting him know she was into this new situation with him. She really didn’t need to think and she’d get to mindlessly enjoy the island for a bit. And she did have a kink she found one night of being blindfolded during sex - what’s a more intense version of this fantasy than if your head was miles away from the touches on your bod from your lover?

The busty guard interrupted the lovebirds. “Here is a paper copy of her passport in case you need it to check into the hotel, we will get her back as soon as we can. Remember, put sunscreen on your neck stumps and enjoy that resort. It has a famous topless beach but not that kind!” and with that she slid a finger in a slicing motion across her neck. Jackson couldn’t wait to see this, even if he would have to take his head off on a towel to blend in.

“Thank you. Gracias!” Jackson said, waving goodbye to the guards. “If you need my head again, you know where to find me!” he directed to the guard blessed with big boobs, getting a wry smile from her. Tara blindly felt out for her husband, and he met her hand with his, just as they did when they first arrived on this strange island.

They hopped in the shuttle and Jackson took a selfie with him and his headless wife. That’s when he saw the date on his phone. It was a federal holiday tomorrow, so he’d have at least an extra day with Tara’s body without a head. He put his arm around her waist and gave a quick pinch on her ass. She jumped, slapping his head off playfully, before feeling around for it and putting it back on his head. She lightly tapped a finger to his lips and then rested her hand against his chest for the duration of the shuttle ride. They both would have an incredible time ahead of them - even if there was just a head between the two of them combined.