It was the most exciting thing I’d ever been a part of, bar none. At first there were about twenty of us dancing up there, then thirty, forty, fifty, sixty … beyond that I had no clue of numbers, just that I was part of this glorious sisterhood of impassioned faces, some shouting slogans with anger imprinted on their features, others, like me and Samantha, alight with a strange joy. I had to admit that nuclear weapons were the last thing on my mind then. I was caught up in the moment, and I never wanted to go home. I wanted to stay with Samantha and these women forever. At that moment she moved close to me, wrapped her arms around my neck and swung me with her. I could see her freckles up close, her wide black pupils in the bright-green irises. Nobody had ever had such an instant or strong effect on me.

We slowed, swayed together, my own arms shooting unbidden round her waist, eyes locked. Softly, gently, she reached forwards and kissed my lips, sending a stab of desire right down to my groin. Our lips began to part…

…But that was when it all turned nasty. Men in uniform – police, soldiers, military police – streamed through the gate, dozens and dozens of them, wielding truncheons, faces dark with fury and aggression, their yelling drowning out the ululations still going on all around us. We broke apart.

‘Stick with me,’ Samantha shouted as I turned to see a huge policeman charging straight for me. Women were being seized bodily and dragged away screaming. The huge cop bent at the waist, grabbed me around mine and in one swift move put me over his meaty shoulder and started running back towards the gate. How could I stick with her?

As he carried me, squirming as my breasts bumped against his back, I saw her through the melee, fighting with another, smaller guy.

‘Stop resisting!’ he was screaming at her, brandishing his truncheon above her head.

I mentally entreated her to stop resisting. The thought of her being injured made my pounding heart hurt.

As we got away from the main throng my own abductor seemed to relax a bit. He slowed to a jog and asked me where I got my bear outfit from. I didn’t answer – I wasn’t in the mood for small talk, bouncing upside-down over his back.

‘Oi!’ he said breathlessly, ‘I asked you a question!’

I was scared now; scared, angry, aroused, confused. Had I really just kissed a girl on top of a silo? I’d never found a woman attractive before!

‘My nan made it for me,’ I panted. ‘For a fancy-dress party.’

The copper’s laugh made me livid, and I punched at his solid thigh until he told me, in a less nice voice, to cut it out. He even smacked my fake-fur arse at one point, quite hard, which made me scream, ‘Police brutality!’