When the Shoe's Off the Other Foot
by Johnny

Officer Antoinette Giradi cursed loudly when she crashed her cruiser into the rear of the BMW that had stopped suddenly. 'Of all the stupid things to do!' she thought as she got out of the cruiser and stormed to the BMW. She'd make that driver pay dearly for this!

"License, registration, proof of insurance, and how many fucking drinks did you have anyway?", Officer Giradi snapped quickly.

The driver of the car, a young woman no more than nineteen or twenty, a good ten years younger than the officer, handed the cop the requested documents. "Iíve not had anything to drink," she said softly but firmly.

"Shit, youíre coked up then, doing twenty down the road," Giradi shot back, looking over the papers the girl had handed her. Car belonged to someone else, but with the same last name, presumably the father. Or perhaps a husband, but she had used her left hand to give the stuff to the irate officer and the ring finger was bare. Giradi chuckled, thinking 'Just like the rest of you will be. Iím going to run you in for suspected drug use and strip search your ass. Thatíll teach you to ruin my day.'

"I was doing thirty-five which is the legal limit for this street. Besides, accidents from the rear are the fault of the one behind, so you hit me," the woman declared angrily.

"Watch your mouth, Miss Jacobsen, as is Iím taking you in for reckless driving. Donít add a resisting arrest charge to it," Giradi said sharply.

"Reckless driving? For doing the speed limit and stopping to avoid hitting a pedestrian? Bullshit!" Miss Jacobsen shot back just as sharply.

"Thatís it, out of the car now!" the now angry officer ordered. Miss Jacobsen glared at the officer but complied.

Making the younger woman assume the position, Giradi patted her down then cuffed her hands behind her back. "Give me any more fucking trouble and Iíll do the strip search here instead of waiting to get to the station," Giradi vowed as she jerked her prisonerís left arm to lead her to the cruiser. She had the womanís purse in one hand, and had a firm grip on the womanís arm with the other.

As she had hoped, the mention of a strip search brought a blush to the young woman. Officer Giradi loved humiliating young women, especially snooty rich bitches like this one had to be. A brand new BMW, and the brat wasnít even legal! The date of birth on her license indicated Miss Janet Jacobsen was only three days past her eighteenth birthday, making her thirteen years younger than the officer arresting her. Just the sort of woman that Giradi loved to humiliate.

Antoinette wasnít gay, she just loved the expressions the women would get when she made them get out of their expensive clothes and show every part of their body to her laughing eyes. It was such a kick watching the faces go from arrogant to sobbing as each piece of clothing came off. If they were reluctant to start, or would stop before skin, usually with their bra and panties left, sheíd inform them coldly that she would be forced to do it herself, but if she had to sheíd need help and she was the only female officer on duty. Which meant that men would be watching them get stripped naked. That would jolt them.

Strip searching men, which sheíd done a time or two, wasnít nearly as much fun. Normally theyíd just get a look of "Like what you see?" on their faces, and not surprisingly, the ones most likely to cop that attitude had the least to look at. Though there had been that teen boy. He had been totally mortified by the experience sheíd put him through. Another rich one, like the angry looking blonde before her.

The angry look Janet had suddenly changed to a look of fear. She started to say something but stopped with her mouth wide-open. Giradi didnít have to wonder why, she knew. She heard the distinctive sound of a shotgun being cocked and felt it press against her head.

She stood stock-still as her service automatic was removed from its holster and a tough-looking brunette woman stepped in front of Giradi. The woman, possibly twenty-five or twenty-six, with a hard face and cruel eyes, undid the holster and removed the gunbelt.

"Get the keys to the BMW," she told someone. A large burly man stepped over to Giradi, took Miss Jacobsenís purse from her hand, opened it, and removed the cash, cell phone, and keys.

"Gotíem," he said brusquely.

Another man got into Giradiís cruiser, taking the keys and the shotgun. He was a short skinny man with a face which made Giradi think of a rat. He leered at the two women, cop and civilian, who were both standing still and looking scared.

"We ready?" the burly man asked.

"Just about. It dawns on me that having a cop car might help us make our getaway. Iíll drive it and give the wrong info out over the radio. Weíll have the pigs running around in circles," the woman said with a laugh.

"And to make the impersonation complete, Iíll take that uniform. Peel, pig!" the woman said nastily.

Antoinette Giradi looked at the woman holding her pistol on her and prayed she was joking. "Pardon me?" she asked timidly.

"Come on, you heard me. Get your clothes off, all of them now!" the woman repeated, raising the gun she held just a bit as if emphasizing Giradiís options.

"That would be a stupid idea. Blood would ruin the effect," Giradi said with far more bravado than she felt.

"I donít need a gun, Iíll just borrow your line. Iíve heard it before. Take the fucking clothes off or Iíll get someone to help me strip your ass naked. Since Iím the only "lady officer" on duty, Iíll have to get a couple of men to help. Well, Iím no lady, but youíve cuffed the only lady here, so itíll have to be Pete and George. And Pete would like it way too much, if you know what I mean," the woman said with a sly grin.

Antoinette looked around widely. Both men were grinning lasciviously, the black-haired bitch with Antoinetteís own gun pointing at her was smiling, and worse of all the rich bitch was smiling also! This couldnít be happening!

"Hurry it up, I ainít got all damned day. Or do you want help?" the groupís obvious leader snapped irritably.

Antoinette took her hat off, sat it on the roof of her cruiser, then undid her regulation tie. She was about to be stripped to her underwear outside! And the little punk who caused this was grinning like a cat who ate the canary! Well once she got the bitch to the station, sheíd stop the grin. She decided then and there that sheíd strip the bitch with help. Let her grin then.

As she fumed about her predicament, she had removed her shoes and socks and placed them on the cruiser also. Trying not to show any emotion she began unbuttoning her shirt.

Something she couldnít help be aware of was not only was she outside but nearly in the downtown area. Like so many other cities over the last forty years, her cityís downtown had lost most of the retail stores to the malls and become mostly a locale for lawyers, insurance companies, and government agencies, and, in this case, the cityís largest newspaper. Ironically it was only about five blocks away. More irony, the main police station was only seven.

Shirt off now, Antoinette unbuckled her pants then paused for a moment. The female who had ordered her to put on this disgraceful show had already shucked off her pullover top and jeans. She stood there in a black filmy bra and matching panties for a moment then took Antoinetteís discarded shirt and began putting it on. Antoinette made no attempt to rush her or to try to get the pistol which was back in its holster. Each man was holding a shotgun pointed her way and any such attempt would get her dead.

"Hurry up with the pants, I donít want to keep giving those kids a free show," the half-dressed woman told the equally half-dressed cop.

Antoinette dropped her pants and handed them over, leaving her in a white manís tee-shirt and matching white boxers. At first she had thought the woman had meant the men with her when she said kids, but the giggling of actual kids proved her wrong. Turning her head slightly she could see a half a dozen kids ranging in age from maybe ten or twelve up to fourteen or fifteen, boys and girls both, standing across the street watching.

As she stood self-consciously trying to ignore the giggles of the children, the grins and leers of the men, the laughter of the woman and the smirk on Jacobsenís face, the black-haired woman had finished dressing completely in her uniform. She tossed her discarded blouse and jeans into the BMW then looked at Antoinette.

"Whyíd you stop? Get the rest off.", she ordered.

"What? No! Why? You donít need them for your disguise!", Antoinette protested.

"Sure donít, but I need them off you. I think itís time you got a taste of what youíve put others through. So get nekkid or Pete and George will get to have a bit of fun."

Antoinette Giradi looked aghast not at the gloating woman dressed in her uniform but the leering men and the rapidly growing crowd of interested on-lookers. As with any large city with a dying downtown, the surrounding blocks became home to the poorer segment of society. And justified or not, a large number of those people felt the police ignored them unless it was to harass them. As a result, few of them were inclined to do much more than gawk at the mortified woman in the humiliating situation.

Fighting back tears, the thoroughly abashed officer quickly pulled her tee-shirt up and off, tossing it the pseudo-officer then dropping her boxers and kicking them over that direction. She prayed without hope that the woman would end her humiliation there.

For Antoinette wasnít naked, not yet. She still had on a very sexy very sheer lime green bra that barely covered her large (36C) breasts and equally minuscule matching thong panties. Until now it had been her secret that she wore such sexy and sheer underthings. It was her way of reminding herself that she was a woman despite the very unfeminine police uniform she wore every day. To help keep it her secret, she wore the tee-shirt and boxers as cover. Now that cover was gone and she feared what little remained would join them.

Whistling appreciatively, the lady leader mocked. "Damn sexy things for such an old lady." Antoinette bristled a bit at being called old, she was only thirty-one. "Looks like theyíd be a bit small on me but what the hell, Iíll take them anyway," she added, much to Antoinetteís fear but not surprise. She had expected as much.

Removing her remaining garments utterly demolished her pride and her willpower. She didnít even protest when the woman ordered her to keep her hands on her head so the crowd could get a good look. She did sob when she was instructed to bend over and spread her asscheeks but she complied without protest.

"Blackie, we best get our asses in gear, the cops will be here eventually," Pete, the rat-faced man, pointed out.

"I hate it when youíre right," Blackie groused good-naturedly. She was enjoying herself. She herded Antoinette and Janet Jacobsen into the rear of the police car while the men got into Janetís BMW. Both cars sped off in different directions, and Antoinette got the impression Blackie knew where to meet up with the men. What she had in mind for her prisoners, Antoinette neither knew or truly cared. At this point being shot would be a blessing.

"Iím sorry," Janet said earnestly to the downcast officer.

"What for?" Antoinette idly wondered aloud.

"She was the pedestrian I braked for, which is why you rammed into me. I think she was counting on an accident getting and keeping your attention."

"I shouldnít have been following you so closely. If I hadnít, none of this would have happened, so itís my fault not yours," Antoinette admitted.

Blackie stopped the cruiser at a corner several blocks to the north of where sheíd stripped Officer Giradi. Antoinette saw the woman rummage through the pockets of the jeans she [Blackie] had discarded earlier. With a grin she got out of the cruiser and with weapon in hand opened the rear door.

"You with your clothes on, come on out. Stay smart and live, get dumb and die," she warned. Janet heeded the warning, especially as she was still cuffed with her hands behind her back. Antoinette stayed in the car and Blackie shut the door.

Quickly unlocking one of the cuffs, Blackie re-cuffed Janet after the young woman had put her arms around the base of a street light. Swatting the cuffed woman hard on her ass, Blackie warned. "Start yelling and Iíll rip your fucking skirt and panties off. Keep still and you get to keep your clothes on." Janet nodded her understanding.

Going back to the cruiser, Blackie opened the rear door after unholstering her gun. She smiled wickedly as she tossed two pairs of handcuffs at Antoinette. "Snap one on each wrist then get out of the car. Donít argue and donít try anything cute or Iíll fuck you over but good."

Totally defeated, the thoroughly mortified police officer did as she was instructed. Instructions which included standing next to the same street light Janet was cuffed to with her left arm held high. Blackie stood up on the base, took the loose cuff on Antoinetteís left hand and cuffed it around a metal cable.

Coming around to stand in front of the naked cop, Blackie warned. "Iíve left the keys in the cruiser, so if you try kicking me or grabbing me, it wonít do you a bit of good." Then she grabbed Antoinetteís left leg and tied a bit of fishing line around the ankle. Going back to standing on the base, she tied the other end of the fishing line to the metal cable running from the light. The net result was that Antoinette, already on tip-toes, was forced to keep her leg up and spread. Her right hand which had a cuff on it was then cuffed to another cable, not quite as high.

"Itís four twenty-one, girls. I imagine you both know what that means," Blackie said wickedly just before getting into the cruiser and driving off. And both women did know what that meant. At four thirty, the cityís largest employer, an insurance company, let out. In less than ten minutes the streets would be full of people.

"Donít worry, Iím sure the police will be here soon," Janet said in an attempt to console the nearly in tears Antoinette.

"Like hell, most of the force was out looking for the guys who hit the bank on the west side. I bet it was them. And with the bitch using my radio sheíll be able to confuse things but good," Antoinette explained in a sour tone.

Janet had no reply to that. All they could do was watch the clock on the YWCA tick off the minutes and pray the cops did get there first. Alas, it was not to be.

Four-thirty came and a veritable mob of people, mostly women, but still a very large number of men, came pouring out of the buildings. By four thirty-one, they had crowded around the two women, one dressed, one totally naked.

By four forty, the news media who had been listening for the latest update on the robbers showed up. Cameras and all. That was the final straw, Antoinette broke down completely, bawling like a baby.

At four fifty the police finally showed up, three cruisers responding to what they thought to be a riot. It took fifteen minutes for them to get the crowd back enough to even attempt to release the two women. And the cameras kept rolling.

Finally, the only woman officer in any of the cruisers took a knife and cut the fishing line, then used her keys (generally any police cuffs can be opened by any police handcuff key. Keeps things simply with multiple busts) to undo the cuffs. And provide Antoinette with a blanket. At 5:03.

When it was discovered that Janet Jacobsen was the daughter of the owner of the newspaper (at 5:04), the news media went wild, forgetting all about the no-longer-naked cop. And when he found out how his daughter had been treated, (at 5:12), Mr. Jacobsen went nuts. Especially after it came out that 911 had gotten a call from someone living around the area where the initial accident had occurred. The caller had reported the accident then called back to report the woman being stripped. Apparently he had missed the initial part where the bank robber had taken the uniform from Antoinette, as he reported a police officer stripping a motorist. The accident call had been at 3:45 and the stripping call at 4:05. Oh, the robbers made a clean getaway.

The paper kept the story going for days, prompting the TV people to keep it going also. They emphasized the irony of a police officer being treated so humiliatingly and the police not responding quickly since they thought it was an officer who was conducting the humiliation, not enduring it. Insinuations abounded that had the police known, they would have assembled swat teams to help the unfortunate officer. Instead, they allowed what they thought was a cop publicly strip-searching a motorist.

Antoinette was interviewed more times than she cared to think about. All she wanted to do was forget the whole horrible mess; instead, she re-lived it for weeks. And the last thing she wanted was her face plastered all over the airwaves. Especially since at least two of the local area stations were wont to showing a clip of her fully-dressed and saying, "No comment." then a clip of her cuffed and tied to the street lamp. Of course on TV there was the appropriate blurring but as Antoinetteís brother was pleased to inform her, the ones on the Web werenít blurred.

The police brass announced changes to strip search policies, reaction time to an emergency call would be monitored, and they gave Officer Giradi three months paid vacation. (Which she took to the Bahamas and had another unfortunate experience involving considerable embarrassment but thatís a tale for another time.)

Epilogue - Seventeen Months Later.

"So Toni, did you see the episode of Americaís Most Wanted? They had your case on it," Officer Powell teased his partner.

"Fuck off," she told him pleasantly. She was well over all three (yes three) of her humiliating experiences and she glanced down at his groin then snickered as a gentle reminder she was one up on him. Since he wasnít wired into the Web, he was one of the few people in the city who hadnít seen her naked, or so it seemed to her. Which put her one up on him, since she had seen him naked. (Yet another tale for another time.)

Responding to a call about a streaker, the officers drove to a spot which brought a chill to Toni. It was only three blocks from where sheíd hit Janetís car. They parked and walked around looking for the perp.

Spotting a bit of fast motion out of the corner of her eye, Toni gave chase and quickly cornered a naked woman trying to climb a fence. Toniís shout of stop or Iíll shoot, persuaded the woman to do just that; stop.

"Thank god youíre here officer, I thought it was that crazy boyfriend of mine. Heís gone mad, all coked up and pissed off at me. He threw me out of the house naked and oh shit!" the woman said with emotion.

'Oh shit indeed,' Toni thought as she recognized the shivering woman; Blackie!

"Tsk tsk, let me guess you spent all the money? Assume the position or trust me I will truly enjoy macing you," Toni advised pleasantly.

Pleasant voice, but very cruel blue eyes, so Blackie did as she was told. Toni grabbed one arm, put it behind the womanís back cuffed it then did the same to the other. Then she walked the woman out to the cruiser.

"Well I see you found our little streaker," Powell said when he returned to the car.

"Better yet, I found our little bank robber!" Toni went on to identify the woman for him.

"God damn, going to be a good bust there. Bank robbery, kidnapping, gross sexual imposition, grand theft auto, petty larceny, impersonating a police officer. Sheíll do years," Powell noted.

"Iím going to take her back behind that abandoned house. Oh Iím not going to hurt her, just want to ask about her two buddies. You have my word," she told him then walked up to him and said softly. "And when I do, why donít you drive on back?"

"What will you do?" he asked as softly.

"Oh itís a nice day, I think weíll walk. Itís only ten blocks or so. Say, isnít it close to four thirty?" Toni asked loudly which made Blackie blanch.

The End

Copyright© 2007 by Johnny. All rights reserved.