Doctor Jenny Barnes was not in the least bit amused by the turn of events that caused her to be placed in the holding van along with the protesters who were still shouting curses at the police like some rag-tag band of hot-heads looking for trouble.
She was mortified by the fact that the policewoman who had put a chokehold on her had gotten leverage by shoving her short nightstick right into the crack of her backside like some rapist intent on dirty business. The chokehold had deprived her of the power of legitimate objection and she had no choice but to go with the flow and get onboard the dirty vehicle with the rest of the common protesters.
Jenny's only reason for being in the square in the first place was to tend to a gentleman who had fallen to the ground with chest pains and she felt that in her role as "guardian angel" she should have been excluded from the order to "scoop them all up and send them to headquarters!"
There was not enough room to sit in the van and the detainees were all jammed up next to each other.
Her designer outfit was wrinkled beyond belief and there was a bearded man to her rear that was gleefully enjoying the act of rubbing his inquisitive erection on her expensive pleated skirt imported from Scotland whilst holding her hips in place to gain entry. The friction of his beard on the back of her neck and the hard rod in her dignified gap combined to make her feel like she was "Alice in Wonderland" where things are never what they seem. She watched in disgust as two women directly in front of her were French kissing each other with serious intent like lovers on the way to the Eiffel Tower.
After all, she was a recognized Doctor of Medicine and was accredited by the State Board of Physicians and besides, she was a Psyberterian and her parents were influential in the church as well.
She heard the bearded man mutter something in her ear that sounded suspiciously like,
"Don't move, baby, here it comes!"
It was all too much for her and she started to silently cry hiding her tears from those around her not wanting others to know how deeply she was put out by the entire sordid episode. Suddenly her expensive skirt felt wet and she knew the scruffy fellow had truly taken advantage of her defenseless situation. Jennie decided to ignore the facts and pretended nothing was happening. She hated the idea of being a victim and it was far better to just refuse to accept the fact that she was serving as the bearded man's cum-bucket and treated it as a sort of circumstantial activity excused by the crowded condition of the transport.
They were all herded off the van at the holding headquarters and they separated the males from the females. She breathed a sigh of relief and thought it was long overdue for simple advantage of female privacy. One of the French-kissing women with a smile on her face cupped her breast with a bold movement and she realized she might have been a bit premature in her approval of the separation of the sexes. She wanted to screw up her courage and frown at the woman or say something critical but she was tongue-tied and hesitant because she didn't want to make any unnecessary enemies in such dire circumstances. So she stood there with a foolish grin on her face and let the girl explore her shy and seldom fondled breast without any comment. It was an eye-opening experience because she had never been forced to keep silent like that ever before in the face of such rude behavior.
Jenny looked around to find someone in authority to register her credentials and get out of the silly position she should never have been in in the first place.
Before she could make a move in that direction, a short, weather-beaten female with boots and what looked like an actual cattle prod came into the holding cell and told everyone,
"Ok, ladies, up against the wall and hug it like it was your boyfriend or some well-heeled slob with greedy fingers. Some of the women groaned and others were hesitant to react. The sound of the cattle prod zinging against slow-moving flesh was all it took for the remainder to rush to follow the orders of the tiny female in charge."
The woman was strutting up and down the cell looking at the backsides mutely facing her unable to speak or give her a dirty look. That was the way she liked it. She wanted them to be unknowns merely a heart-shaped package of twin buns and spread out thighs waiting for her intimate inspection of their body cavities to confirm they had no weapons, drugs or other forbidden items hidden away to take into the jail cells above them.
Doctor Jenny was upset now because she was always the one on the other end of this sort of activity and it bothered her that some strange female with an disagreeable attitude was about to gain intimate knowledge of her vaginal channel and her sensitive puckered entryway. She looked at the females on either side of her and saw that they were familiar with the routine and was not overly upset with the prospect.
Perhaps she was over-reacting.
It certainly didn't feel that way when it came her turn for the degrading examination.
Jenny had been in the reverse role many times and could appreciate the irony of being told to "bend over, and spread your legs". She had rooted around in so many humiliated rectal compartments and vaginal passageways that she knew when her subjects were fearful and when they were in breathless anticipation of further degradation.
She was thankful that the diminutive prison supervisor was wearing a hygienic glove but was dismayed that she had not changed it from the last victim who was obviously in the terminal stages of some illness that had wasted away every last once of fat on her skeletal frame.
Hopefully, it was not contagious.
.... There is more of this story ...