It was late, later than she'd intended, when Jax finally got out of the office having finished her paperwork. She pulled her long coat tightly around herself, as she left the building and walked out into the cold January night. Even with the coat, the temperature was uncomfortable. Her steps quickened as she crossed the street to the multi-storey employee car-park, eager to be out of the cold. She didn't even notice the trio of young men by the entrance to the car-park. Not until one of them called out to her.
"Hey baby, how you doin?" His words were slurred, he was obviously drunk.
"Cold night huh? Hey, we'll warm ya' up!" Added another, to the approval of his friends.
Jax sighed in annoyance, but resolved to ignore them. Tired and cold as she was, three obnoxious, drunken twits were a long way down her give-a-shit list. Until, that is, she walked past them on her way into the car-park, and one of them, a spotty 18 year old with long, dirty-blond hair, grabbed her bottom.
"Nice aaAAH..." The greasy drunk's crude appraisal of what he felt under Jax's coat was cut short by her elbow slamming into his temple, sending him reeling away. "OW...Fuck...It was a complement, fuckin' psycho bitch!"
Jax could barely hear him over the echo of her own footsteps. Satisfying as it may have been to stand her ground, and teach the handsy bastard a painful lesson in consent, he had two friends behind him, and she was in office clothes not conducive to fighting. Instead she was making a run for her car, which her clothes were only slightly more conducive to.

When he'd recovered from his knock on the head, the guy who grabbed at Jax moved to follow her, fists clenched, but his friend, a slightly older, more muscular guy with short, red hair, held out an arm to stop him. "Dude." He said, a knowing smile on his face, and a phone in his other hand. "I've got this." He began to dial a number.

Jax's car was on the second floor of the multi-storey, and she didn't slow down until she reached it. It was only when she was sitting in the driver's seat that she allowed herself a sigh of relief. She she started the engine and pulled out of the bay, eagerly anticipating getting home, having a long warm bath, and forgetting the incident. As she arrived back on the ground floor, and saw the entrance again, the sight that greeted her initially brought a grin to her face. A police car was parked there, and an officer was talking to the youths.
Maybe someone saw what happened and called the cops. She guessed. Or maybe I'm not the first one they harrassed
Whatever the case, Jax stopped her car by the entrance and got out, walking up to the policeman.
"Evening officer." She greeted, brimming with confidence. "I'd like to report an assault." Payback time, you little shits. she grinned.
"Really?" Replied the officer, his tone neutral and measured. The kind of tone onto which the listener can infer anything they want. "Who's been assaulted."
"Me." She answered, then pointed at the one with long hair. "By him. He grabbed me, without my consent." She explained.
"I see." Said the cop, nodding slowly. A smirk was forming on his face, as if he were trying not to laugh at a joke someone else hadn't gotten yet. "Well, if that's true, I suppose I should arrest him." He nodded, before turning to the youths. "Unless it's not true. Beck..." he addressed the red-haired one. "What did you see happen."
That was when Jax's certainty shook a bit. Why does he know one of their names? she wondered.
"Well, dad..." replied Beck.
That was when Jax's certainty was obliterated, and she realised the dynamics of the situation were fundamentally different to what she had believed them to be. "Fuck." She muttered under her breath.
"...Dennis didn't touch her, none of us did. We were just minding our own business when she came up and elbowed him in the head. Look, he's got the bruise."
Dennis pulled back his hair to show the cop his bruised temple.
The officer turned back to Jax. "Well, it seems they have some evidence for what they accuse you of. You got anything to prove this young man attacked you?"
"What kind of evidence could I possibly have?" Jax argued. "Yeah, I elbowed him, but it was only after..."
"Okay, I've heard enough." Replied the cop, taking the handcuffs off his belt. "Hands behind your back."
Jax gaped. How quickly the situation had seemed to turn around. This officer was clearly a nepotist, arresting her to exact petty revenge for his son's friend. She thought about running or fighting, but corrupt or not, he was still a cop. That would end badly.
Jax gulped, as her hands moved slowly behind her back, and grimaced as the cold steel cuffs closed around her wrists.

***

Jax couldn't have looked more out of place among the other arrestees on the sitting in cuffs in the police station lobby. The there were some 20 of them, mostly slouched drunks, a few prostitutes in tiny dresses, and one unnaturally pale man in a hoodie. And yet, there Jax was, in her long dark coat, now open to reveal the expensive pantsuit underneath, cuffed alongside the rest of them.
Every few minutes, the woman at the desk would call out another name, and one of the prisoners would be taken through to the processing room. Jax didn't know what happened back there, and she didn't care. She was paying just enough attention to know when her name was called, while devoting the rest of her energy to not panicking.
This is a mistake. She assured herself. They're going to question me, realise I've done nothing wrong, then let me go. Then I'm going to sue the ass off that bastard cop, and his little brat...

When she had been repeating variations on this to herself for some time when the woman at the desk finally called: "Hickock, Jax."
She stood up, with a sigh of relief. Now I get to talk to someone. She thought. Nearly over.
There was another policewoman standing by the desk: Tall and strong, her red hair tied in a ponytail, possessed of an amazonian beauty that wasn't lost on Jax.
"Hello." The policewoman greeted, in a tone devoid of warmth. Her eyes were running over Jax, and a smirk was forming on her face. It made Jax uneasy. "I'm officer Quinn, I'll be handing your processing. Follow me."
"Um...Yes ma'am" Jax said, disorientated by the whole turn of events.
Officer Quinn took her through the door marked "Processing", to a corridor with doors on either side. Half the doors were marked with numbers, the other half were marked with the same number as the preceeding door, plus the word "Observation." Officer Quinn stopped at door 5, and took out her keys to unlock it. Jax heard footsteps behind them and idly turned to look. Her eyes widened. The three assholes who stated this were advancing up the corridor, along with the officer who'd arrested her.
She frowned. "What are they doing here?" She asked.
"No talking." Was Quinn's only reply.
The one who had grabbed her gave her a leering grin as he passed, and the other two smirked knowingly. They walked into "Room 5 Observation".
Officer Quinn unlocked the door, and began to open it.
"Um...What exactly are you going to..." Jax's question died in her throat, and her heartbeat quickened as she saw the room beyond the door. An entire wall, the one facing the observation room, was a one-way window. In the room itself was an examination table, with a cardboard box on top, and stirrups fitted. The kind of stirrups used in a gynecological exam...stirrups facing the window!
Panic seized Jax, as she realised what "processing" consisted of, and what those assholes on the other side of the glass were going to see. She took a step back, but before she could take a second, Officer Quinn seized her, putting one hand firmly on her arm, and the other on her shoulder. She marched Jax into the room, and closed the door behind them. Jax heard it lock with a click

Oh God, this is really happening. Jax's heart raced and her eyes darted around the room. In addition to the table, she now took a good look at the box on top of it. Printed on the side was:

HICKOCK, JAX
H-8062890
31-01-18
BELONGINGS

Jax gulped. Also on the table were a set of folded blue clothes, and a smaller box she hadn't noticed before: a box of latex gloves, next to a bottle of lubricant.
Jax was sweating as Quinn removed her cuffs. She alternated  between staring at the boxes, and at the window, knowing who was beyond it, watching her squirm.
When the cuffs were off, Quinn gave the order: "Okay, coat off, put it in the box."
Jax took off her coat, slowly, as if playing for time, as if hoping something would save her. She had no idea what, but she was hoping for something.
She folded the coat neatly, and put it in the box. She turned to Quinn for her next instruction, with a sense of dread.
"Hands up on the wall." She commanded, gesturing to the wall facing the window. "Legs spread wide, bend over some."
Jax obeyed the demeaning instruction, glad, at least, that it didn't involve taking any clothes off. She positioned her hands highly up on the wall, palms spread, and bent over with her feet wide apart. Quinn came up behind her. That smirk she'd had earlier had evolved into a predatory grin, as she ran her fingers through Jax's auburn curls.
"W-what are you doing?" Asked a flustered Jax
"Checking for contraband" The cop explained. Her fingers moved from Jax's hair to her arms, feeling all the length of the sleeves for anything beneath the fabric. She then moved down to Jax's chest.
"Mmm..!" Jax jerked as the policewoman grabbed her breasts, and squeezed through the suit. "What are you..."
"Shut up!" Snapped Quinn in a tone that brokered no discussion, as she slowly ran her hands down Jax's sides.
Jax was turning red. Despite the situation, being commanded and roughly handled by the domineering, and not unattractive woman was turning her on more than she'd like. She could feel the dampness forming between her legs.
Bet thoses pervs on the other side of the glass are enjoying the show. She thought, bitterly.
When Quinn was done frisking Jax (having spent a lot of time on her ass and legs), she took the box off the table and dropped it at Jax's feet.
"Now we begin your strip search." The cop explained. "Shoes in the box."
Jax was reluctant, looking at the glass. "Is...is this really...there are men on the other side of that window."
Quinn didn't miss a beat. "No there aren't." She replied.
Jax's brow furrowed. "Yes there are...I saw them go in there. So did you!"
"No I didn't."Quinn persisted. "I say there's nobody behind that glass, and that's what I'll say in court. So will the officer you think is back there, and two or three others who'll give him an alibi. Understood?"
Jax sighed, closing her eyes. They had her, and they knew it. With trembling hands, she reached up, and began to unbutton her jacket. She dropped it in the box.
"Shirt next."
On Quinn's orders, Jax dropped her shirt, shoes, socks and trousers into the box. Standing there in her black bra and panties, the gave Quinn a pleading look, asking for that to be all. No such mercy.
"Everything." Quinn ordered, now openly leering and Jax, running her eyes all over the embarrassed woman.
With a resigned sigh, Jax turned away from the glass, unhooked her bra and, covering her breasts with an arm, turned back around to drop it in the box.
Quinn smiled. "Now your panties. Don't turn around."
Jax grunted in frustration. She looked at the glass, imagining the smug, drooling perverts on the other side. She wondered if the blond one had imagined he'd see this much when he grabbed her ass tonight.
"Some time this week, Princess!" Snapped Quinn.
Jax gritted her teeth, took her hands from her chest, exposing her perky, firm breasts to her invisible audience, they're white pigment sharply contrasting with the deep red her face had tuned. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, and pulled them down, dropping them into the box, leaving herself completely naked.

Quinn closed the box and put it to one side. "Okay, honey-buns, it's that time." She took a latex glove from the box on the table. "On the table. Lie down. Feet in the stirrups." She punctuated the sentence with the snap of the glove as she put it on.
Jax looked from the glass, to Quinn, back to the glass, to the table.
They'll be able to see everything... she realised.
"Now!" Snapped Quinn, moving next to Jax, and punctuating the command with a bare-handed smack on the ass.
Jax squeaked in surprise. "Yes ma'am!" She cried, in a submissive tone, unusual for Jax, dominant that she was. I guess being naked at the mercy of a merciless and kinda hot cop does that... she reflected, as her feet found their place in the stirrups, exposing her most intimate places to the full view of everyone on the other side of the glass.
Officer Quinn's gloved finger touched Jax between her legs, and she let out a soft moan. The cop grinned. "Exciting you, am I?"
Jax didn't answer. She was breathing heavily. Being commanded, stripped, forced to expose herself to people she hated. It was horrible, humiliating, and so, so hot. She could only squirm, and moan quietly as Quinn began to search inside her.
Quinn's method of 'searching' seemed to involve sensually rubbing the clit, and moving two gloved fingers rhythmically in and out. It wasn't long before Jax was close to the edge...and then Quinn stopped.
Jax's eyes opened in frustration and confusion. Well don't stop there! She wanted to yell.
Quinn stood up so Jax could see her beaming face. "You want me to finish you off?" She asked.
Red from equal parts arousal and embarrassment, Jax weakly nodded.
"Say it." Quinn said, in a sadistic tone. "Say, 'Yes please, mistress'."
Jax closed her eyes in embarrassment...but said it. "Y-yes...yes please...mistress."
"Beg for it."
Jax sighed, but spoke anyway. "Please give me an orgasm, mistress, please! I'm begging you!"
Quinn was silent for a few seconds, which passed like an eternity before speaking again.
"No." She said simply, before unceremoniously shoving her two fingers into Jax's ass.
Jax howled in pain, surprise and frustration at her denial. Hot tears ran down her face, and she stared at the ceiling, begging God for it to end.

***

10 minutes later, Officer Quinn escorted a miserable Jax (now dressed in a blue denim jail uniform, with her hands cuffed in front) to the holding cells. Jax's slouched stance, staring at her feet, couldn't have been further from the confident, well dressed, professional woman who left her office a couple of hours before.
Quinn opened the door to one of the cells, and took off Jax's cuffs.
"Welcome to your new home away from home." She said, in the same infuriatingly smug tone she'd said everything since denying Jax the release she had begged for.
"I...don't...don't I get a phone call?" Jax stammered.
"Sure thing, once we've done your paperwork...in an hour or two...or in the morning...or afternoon..."
Jax sighed, but was too scared and emotionally exhausted to respond. She went dejectedly into the cell.

Inside, already sitting on the top bunk, was a large, strong, Hispanic woman, with short black hair, uniform sleeves rolled up to show arms covered with tattoos.
She dropped down from the bunk and approached Jax, as the door locked behind her.
"Hey there, cupcake..." Jax's cellmate said with a grin. She inhaled deeply through her nose. "You smell nice..."