THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MIRROR by Joe Doe JUDGE ASHLEY HAS ALWAYS ENJOYED WATCHING THE PRISONERS BEING SEARCHED. BUT NOW THE MATRON THINKS IT IS ASHLEY'S TURN. "There she is, Your Honor," the matron said. "Her name is Natalie, and she's a 24-year-old graduate student and history teacher. She locked her purse in her car, but, since she didn't have any ID, the police wouldn't open it." "Her cousin Holly arrived a couple of minutes ago with Natalie's purse and a second set of keys, so we COULD just release her," the matron said, with a smile. "But I know what a stickler you are for detail...." The matron grinned as she watched Judge Ashley staring at the prisoner. Natalie was just the way Judge Ashley liked them: beautiful, innocent, and helpless. Just like Ashley herself.... "Of course, if you'd prefer, I can release Miss Natalie and put you in there instead, Your Honor," the matron slyly suggested. "I don't understand," Ashley blinked, looking at the matron in confusion. The insightful matron knew that Ashley wasn't a lesbian, and that the staid judge watched the female searches strictly to explore her own fantasies of submission and humiliation. "You are so...uh...interested in supervising strip searches that I thought you might want to see what a search looks like from the other side of the one-way mirror," the matron said, coyly. "If I release Professor Careless there, then I could take you down to the exam room, and you could have a look around." The matron smiled. "I would have to be careful not to leave you in the room too long, though. I already told Bertha that a hot little number was waiting for her in the exam room. She's in the cafeteria right now, but she's a two-fisted eater, and I think she's anxious to get started." The matron leaned in and whispered in Judge Ashley's ear. "If Bertha found you all alone in the exam room, she might just decide to search YOU. You'd be all alone down there, Your Honor -- totally at Bertha's mercy, utterly defenseless." Ashley shuddered at the thought of stripping in front of a butch prison guard like Bertha. But she also felt an indescribable tingle… She looked through the one-way glass at Natalie, who was nervously running her hand over the steel stirrups on the exam table and anxiously eyeing the drum of goo labeled "LUBRICANT." Ashley chuckled as she watched Natalie squirm in helpless anticipation. It would be a pity to release a prisoner as lovely and intelligent as her, but Judge Ashley had a feeling she would be seeing her again someday. After all, someone as spacey as Natalie couldn't avoid the exam table forever.... "Please release the girl," Ashley said. "We can teach our pretty little instructor a lesson some other night." The matron smiled and left the observation room to escort Natalie out to meet her cousin. Judge Ashley shivered slightly as she looked through the glass at the exam table and the ominously empty box used to store the prisoner's clothes. The box wasn't very big. But she knew it was large enough to hold every stitch of her clothing. How many times had she watched the matron search some poor, innocent woman? And how many naked men had been forced to bend over and put their palms flat on the ground for Ashley's amusement? She had lost count. But tonight would be different. Tonight Judge Ashley would experience the other side of the mirror.... Ashley's soulful introspection was cut short by the return of the matron, who quickly ushered Ashley into the hallway. Before the matron closed the door, she discreetly pushed the "RECORD" button on the VCR. The matron smiled. Tonight's search was definitely going to be a keeper. Ashley was overwhelmed by the odor of rubbing alcohol and disinfectant as she entered the strip search room for the first time. She had never really thought about what the place would smell like. Or what it would feel like to actually stand in front of the exam table. She ran her soft, manicured hand over the shiny steel stirrups. The metal felt cold...impersonal...mechanical. She had watched dozens of pretty young women put their bare feet into these pitiless stirrups, often for the most trivial offenses. (When Judge Ashley was on the bench, an attractive young lady had to be careful about participating in a peaceful protest or even just chewing gum on a city bus.) She had wondered what it would feel like to put her own bare feet into the stirrups. Would she be brave? Or would her panicked eyes betray her fear and humiliation as Bertha slowly greased the dreaded rubber glove? Ashley looked nervously at the one-way glass. She knew that male police officers routinely wandered in to watch the matron search attractive female prisoners. She shuddered as she imagined the horny policemen munching doughnuts, guzzling coffee, and joking amongst themselves as she herself slowly stripped naked for their twisted amusement. The gaping spectators in the observation room would have a perfect view of the exam table. Ashley instinctively clenched her legs at the thought. She took the clipboard off the wall and scanned the order form with a sense of nervous anticipation. It looked like the type of routine document that might be used to order office supplies...or lunch at a deli. But this order form was for a strip search. "As you can see, I marked the check-boxes for 'preliminary frisk' and 'removal of all clothing,' the matron explained. "Is that really necessary?" Ashley asked, nervously. "If a prisoner who wasn't expecting a search just stripped to her underwear, it's highly likely that you would discover any contraband that was to be found." "Skin searches are more efficient, and, besides, Bertha prefers them," the matron replied, casually, as if she were discussing Bertha's favorite color. Ashley shuddered. An innocent woman would be groped by Bertha and then stripped absolutely, 100%, stark naked. How could the matron be so lackadaisical? "I didn't check the boxes for 'cavity search,' 'pubic shave,' 'shower,' or 'delousing,'" the matron added, maintaining her perfunctory, indifferent attitude. Her tone was nonchalant, as if she were discussing why she didn't get mustard on her hot dog. Listening to the matron in amazement, Ashley realized for the first time how easily a woman's dignity could be crushed by the routine bureaucracy of the judicial system. The ominous processing form made the strip search seem routine...almost trivial. "Why didn't you check the other boxes?" she asked, nervously. "Well, Bertha tends to enjoy the cavity searches a little TOO much, if you know what I mean," the matron chortled. "All the Professor did was lock her keys in her car -- it wasn't like she joined the Manson family." "The shower, shave, and delousing would be done in the room at the end of the hall. There are some male inmates mopping up the hallway, and I didn't want Bertha to march the Professor down the corridor, buck naked, with her hands cuffed behind her back." The matron shrugged. "That's just the sort of thing Bertha loves to do, especially with the sweet, innocent ones...." Ashley felt a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she imagined Bertha parading her naked in front of the hooting male convicts. How awful! How terrible! How...exciting. She weighed the evidence, and made her decision. It was now or never. "Why don't you show me how you would check the form," she suggested. "I don't understand," the matron said, confused. "All I would do is check the boxes. What's to see?" Ashley nervously cleared her throat and moved closer to the matron. "Please check the boxes," she said, softly. The matron suddenly realized what Ashley wanted and took the pen from her pocket. "Cavity Search?" she asked, in her best "Want-fries-with-that?" voice. Ashley anxiously bit her lip and nodded. She shuddered as the matron chuckled, shook her head, and checked the box. "Shower?" the matron asked. "Be careful!" she warned. "I'd hate to see some poor, innocent girl forced to prance down the hall butt-naked in front of a bunch of drooling scum-bags!" The matron gave Ashley a sly wink. "Still, cleanliness IS important, isn't it?" she said, sweetly, as if she were discussing lemon wedges in the refrigerator. Ashley nodded again, and the matron checked the box with a flourish. "As long as we are doing the shower, we might as well do the pubic shave and the delousing, too," the matron added, moving her pen over the last two empty check-boxes. "After all, we don't want some disgusting, randy little slut stinking up our prison with her soggy, undisinfected pussy, now do we?" Ashley was soaking wet, and she blushed hotly at the matron's humiliating reference to her arousal. Though she wanted to be searched, she really didn't want to be shaved. And she definitely didn't want to be deloused. "I don't think that's necessary," she objected. "Too late!" the matron said, in a chipper voice, as she quickly checked both boxes. "And, if you think this place smells bad, wait'll you get a whiff of that delousing spray!" "There's one other part of the form that needs to be filled out," she said, slyly. "Sometimes the convicts in the hallways try to talk Bertha into letting them take the female prisoners into one of the interrogation cells, in exchange for a pack of smokes. But Bertha always checks the form first, to make sure that the inmate isn't some big shot who'd be able to make a fuss. When I think it's okay for Bertha to give the inmates some R&R, I always draw a little smiley face on the corner of the form, like this." Ashley watched in horror as the matron teasingly drew a cheerful little smiley face in the lower right hand corner of the form. She began to panic as she imagined herself being locked in a cell, stark naked, with her hands cuffed behind her back. She would be totally at the mercy of the drooling scum that she herself had locked away.... "You have to erase that!" she yelped. "You have to erase it NOW! We need to change that form, so...." "Too late," the matron repeated, crisply, returning the clipboard to the wall. "It's time for my break, so we'd better leave now, Your Honor," she said, diverting Ashley's attention from the clipboard on the wall. "I'm sure Bertha is almost through eating, and I wouldn't want her to catch you in here...all alone." Ashley felt a cold chill run down her spine. The prospect of being turned over to the male convicts was terrifying, but she could always change the instructions after the matron left. "Why don't you just leave me in here?" she suggested. "I'd like a few more minutes to look around, and I'm sure you'll be back before Bertha arrives." The matron smiled as Ashley nervously fidgeted in front of her. "You're probably right, Your Honor. I'm CERTAIN you'll be safe. Bertha will check the ID in your purse against the form, and, when she sees the names are different, she'll call the warden." Ashley hesitated for a moment, before taking her purse off her shoulder. "Actually, I was going to ask you to take my purse with you. I don't feel safe walking around a prison with such an expensive purse, and I'd hate to lose it." "Excellent point, Your Honor," the matron said, as she took the purse out of Ashley's trembling hands. "But there's still the matter of your name-tag. It clearly says 'VISITOR.'" "But it doesn't say 'JUDGE,'" Ashley quickly countered, unclipping the tag from the breast of her expensive designer jacket. "I'd like you to take this to the entrance of the prison and have them write the word 'JUDGE' across the top." "But that's on the other side of the prison," the matron protested, feebly. "I'd never get back here in time." She took out her pen again and said, "Maybe I should just write the word 'JUDGE' on the tag myself." She matron smiled and teasingly held the pen inches away from the tag. "After all, if Bertha finds you in here alone, without a name-tag, and she reads that strip search order on the wall, she might get the wrong idea." Ashley had momentarily forgotten about the strip search order, and the matron smiled as the judge stared nervously at the clipboard that was now hanging casually on the wall. "I think you'd better take my name-tag...down to the front desk...and get it corrected," Ashley murmured. "That would be more official. But, if you'll leave me your pen, I would like to make some changes to that order form." The matron took Ashley's name-tag and dropped it into her purse. "I think the order form is fine the way it is, Your Honor. But I think I'd better take charge of that gold Cross pen you keep in your pocket. I wouldn't want some criminal to break into the room, steal your pen, and try to alter the form." she said, archly. Ashley glared at the smiling matron, who stood with her hand outstretched for almost a full minute before Ashley surrendered her pen, her final chance of escape. She looked anxiously at the clipboard. She still had a few minutes to figure out some way of changing the form before Bertha arrived.... As if reading her mind, the matron removed the clipboard from the wall. "I think I'd better hang this form on the hook outside the door -- after I lock you in, of course." "But I think...." "No buts, dear," the matron said, giving Ashley a patronizing pat on her cheek. "After a search form has been completed, it must be executed -- COMPLETELY and FULLY." The matron smiled. "After all, I remember what a stickler you are for detail." Her expression was deceptively bland. "Don't worry, Your Honor. Maybe the convicts in the hallway won't have enough cigarettes. Then again, there are eight of them, and I think they are all from the segregated 'sex offenders' wing. Statistically, they tend to be poor, uneducated, and heavy smokers...." The matron carefully double-locked the door behind her and hung the examination order form on the hook outside the door. She noticed Ashley peeking through the tiny window in the door, staring at the form with frenzied, panicked eyes. The matron smiled when she saw sweat forming above Ashley's lovely brow.... The matron strode down the hallway to meet Bertha, who was waddling towards the exam room. She generously offered to buy Bertha a doughnut, and Bertha eagerly accepted. The matron chuckled as she imagined Ashley's wild eyes frantically staring at the damning form. The clipboard was agonizingly close, and the matron giggled as she imagined the proud jurist's fists pounding on the door in helpless frustration. The anticipation would be unbearable...but the matron was determined to make it last as long as possible. Besides, she still needed time to turn on the video camcorders in the interrogation cell and the shower room.... Edited by C. Lakewood