You wake up to find yourself lying on a rubber mat. As you come to, you realize two things – first, you're naked as the day you were born, and second, you're lying in what appears to be a cell of some sort. It is a well-lit room, about eight feet wide and about ten to twelve feet long.
The mat that you are on is framed by a cement box, with what appear to be three pairs of loops on both sides of the box, embedded into the floor. There is a loop about a foot and a half from the head of the frame, one in the middle, and one near the foot of the frame.
The one wall has a metal mesh window set in concrete block. In fact, the entire room is painted concrete block. There is a tile floor – tile like you would see on the floor of a sauna or of a locker room shower, very heavy-duty. As you roll over – uncomfortably, as the mat is not intended for extended sleep – you see that there is a metal sink and a toilet. The toilet is reinforced with a concrete "shell" that makes it look as though it is part of the floor. Right next to the toilet is a large metal door with a window about halfway up. The window is of pretty decent size, about a foot and a half wide by about two feet. Below the window are two openings – chutes that are obviously made to allow for handcuffing and shackling.
What catches your eye is a metal box with a glass plate in the upper corner of the room, across from the toilet. Below it is a metal grate that looks like a speaker. You instantly realize you're being watched on this camera. A second later a face appears at the door window. The face, however, is hid by the visor of a helmet, almost like a motorcycle helmet.
You hear a voice boom over the speaker: "Are you ready to comply to that search now?" the voice says. You vaguely remember hearing that voice before, but you don't know where from. You realize you're cold, tired, and have no clue as to why you are in the room you're in.
"Wh-wh-wh-where am I?" you squeak out. The visored face pauses, apparently needing to hear what you said repeated to him.
"You were brought in last night from a concert, as part of a disruptive crowd of people," you hear. "You refused to be searched for contraband, so you were placed in here until you decided to comply."
"Muh-mu-muh-my clothes?" you stammer out. Another pause.
"You didn't have much on when you were brought in," the voice says, with a note of sympathy – or was it amusement? "We had to remove what you did have on because of the tear gas." You suddenly realize that your eyes are burning a bit. "Should have gotten most of it off of you – the tear gas, I mean." Another pause. "Are you ready to comply to that search now?"
You don't remember anything about last night. You don't remember a crowd, about refusing anything. You just know that you're cold, scared and huddled in a very hard and strange cell. You don't say anything for a few beats.
"Fine, then you can just stay in there until you do agree to comply," the voice says, and the visored person walks off.
"Wait!" you nearly scream, but it comes out as a squeak. The visored person stops, turns toward you. "Yes, yes, I'll agree to the search, anything, anything to get my clothes back…"
The visor looks down for a second. "Come over to the door." You do so. "Turn around and face the back of the room, with your hands behind you. Don't move." You do this, and you hear the upper chute opening. You turn your head, only to hear "DON'T MOVE" said to you sternly. You freeze and close your eyes. Your eyes have stopped tearing. You don't recall anything about last night at all… A pair of handcuffs is placed on you, and you hear them click shut, and then a further click as they are locked, one manacle at a time. Then, you feel tension on the cuffs.
"Kneel down on the floor." You do so, awkwardly, as you feel your arms being pulled above and behind you from the tension on the cuffs. The lower chute is opened, and a pair of shackles is placed on your ankles, one leg at a time. Quickly the cuffs snap shut, and the click tells you that they have been locked as well.
The tension on the cuffs is released. "Get up and move to the mat, kneeling down facing the wall away from the door." You do so, somewhat uncertain as to what will happen next. Out of the corner of your eye you see the chutes being closed, and then you hear and see the center mechanism move – and the door opens.
In walks what appears to be a man behind a padded suit, wearing a visored storm-trooper-like helmet. He has on rubber gloves and what appears to be a mostly armored suit. He quickly goes to your arms and pulls them back, giving you a sudden pain in your shoulder muscles.
"Now, if you have any ideas about not complying while we do this search," the voice says from behind the visor, "you'll find yourself in this position. Understood?" You nod vigorously, and he lets your arms fall back to a more comfortable position. "Remain still." The trooper begins to run his fingers through your hair – looking for anything that might be there. He runs his fingers over your entire head – you realize that your earrings aren't there, oh God, those were my good earrings too – and then you find his latex-covered fingers prying your mouth open. The fingers run along the sides of your teeth, lifting your tongue unwillingly. After they are removed you involuntarily spit – he has made sure to get out of your way from that. He remains silent as he takes his hands and lifts both of your breasts, feeling the underside for anything that may have been there. A hand on both sides pats down your front and back, to just above your buttocks and just above your pubic area.
