WARNING, SEXUALLY EXPLICIT MATERIAL!                           ADULTS ONLY!

POLICEWOMEN (in which Senior Constable Jacinta Salter adopts the undercover
             name of Tyfani to discover how far she'll go in pursuit of the
             crooks)

by Ozman (c) 2010 (with thanks to Suzanne)

  "See that place there, Senior, the red brick flats. That's a drum," young
Probationary Constable Martin told me  with his normal air of authoritative
certainty.

  He'd been allocated to me as my partner for his first month following his
graduation from the Academy, but seemed to have listened a lot more closely 
to the canteen rumours than to my advice on practical policing and my local
knowledge.

  "A which," I demanded, completely aware of the meaning of that particular 
colloquialism.

  "A brothel," he smiled smugly. "I don't know whether or not female police
are supposed to know that sort of thing."

  I was about to tell him how ridiculous that rumour was because I lived in
those flats and I'd never seen anything untoward, but suddenly remembered a
feeling I'd had on hearing movement behind my bedroom wall in the wee hours.

  "Yes Darren, we do know stuff like that too, but I haven't heard that one
before," I told him patiently. "You've been in to check it out, I take it?"

  "No!" he told me adamantly, flushing. "I never go to places like that."

                                     *    

  I didn't think much about what young Darren had told me until it became a
bit obvious that there was movement behind my rear wall; as if there were a
corridor in there. I'd described myself as a public servant when I'd rented
the apartment some months earlier so, unless I'd been spotted on the job, I
couldn't see that anyone there would know I was a cop and could snoop at my
leisure with impunity.

  One evening I parked opposite my flats and watched the comings and goings
for several hours. No less than seventy guys entered the doorway beside the
caretaker's flat at the front of the building between six p.m. and one a.m.
The occupied car spaces testified to around half of some sixty-odd tennants
being home at eight p.m. so somebody had been busy, as I'd by then accepted
that hanky-panky was definitely on the agenda there.

  I had a week on nights before I could investigate any further, although I
was able to take a peek at the computer file on houses of ill-repute or any
suspected adresses, finding my block to be known, but of no interest due to
the tennants' working from home and each flat effectively a separate abode.
Nobody apart from the landlady was committing any offence, it appeared, but
as she too was a  working woman there were a number of technicalities which
had the potential to negate any charges she might face. It didn't seem that
anybody in the police service was particularly interested in the matter and 
the government was moving towards liberalizing the laws on prostitution. 

  Out of interest I walked along the balcony which ran the entire length of 
the building on the first and second floors, hoping to catch a glimpse of a
sinful scene in any of the flats. The curtains were drawn in each one where
somebody was home, so I saw nothing, deciding then to knock on Jo and Amy's
door on the pretext of going out for a drink at the local watering hole.

  Jo answered the door dressed in lingerie, stockings and the tallest high-
heels I'd ever seen,  her face made up to make her almost unrecognizable as
the pretty young navy communicator I saw regularly leaving for or returning
from duty at the nearby base. She appeared to be quite unfazed at my seeing 
her like that; obviously comfortable with her second career as a prostitute. 

  "Oh, you're busy," I blurted, flustered and flushed at discovering what I
was looking for. 

  "No," she smiled, "I'm waiting, come in, have a drink."

  Her solid body was on display, even her hair-free vulva, beneath a yellow
pegnoir of a diaphanous fabric trimmed with black lace.

  "So when do you work?" she enquired. "I haven't seen you in the reception
area."

  "Oh, I don't," I said self-consciously.  "I'd lose my job if anyone found
out. Anyway, it isn't something I could ever see myself doing."

  "So why did you take a flat here?" she asked, looking surprised.

  "Debby suggested I take it when she moved back to the bush," reddening as
I remembered the mornings she'd come in to work looking completely shagged.

  "Debby the cop? Jeez, she was a goer.  She took a bundle of cash from her
last few months here. You a cop too?"

  I nodded as Amy came into the room from a doorway  which is firmly locked   
in my identical apartment.
  
  "Ooh, that Harley," she smiled dreamily. "I come every time with his big,
bloated dog-wolloper in me."

  "You owe me a hundred," Jo told her, pointing at me.

  "You're a copper?" she asked and I nodded again.  "Well there you go. I'm
not wrong that often though."

  A melodious chime sounded and Jo went into the room from which her friend 
had just emerged.

  "No rest for the wicked," she laughed lightly,  obviously looking forward 
to what was in prospect for her. 

  "God, she's changed," chuckled Amy,  "although I suppose I have too, come 
to think about it. We were such mice, when it came to guys, but now we're a
long way in front of them."

  "What made you take this up?" I asked.

  "Sex and money,  maybe money and sex, but I haven't thought about it that  
deeply. My predecessor in the comms centre inherited the flat and what went
with it from her's.  She took me for drinks one night to show me this place 
and her flash new car, telling me what she'd done to earn it all. Of course
I was horrified, but she persuaded me to move in on rent assistance and see
how I felt after watching Stephanie at work, agreeing to make way for a new
girl if one wanted to come in as a trollop.  Stephanie was my new colleague 
at work and appeared more than happy about her second job, having inherited
it too, but needing the security of another chick in the place.  Eventually
another chick, a civilian, from work asked about a place here and so I then
needed to make a decision about my future. Strangely enough, when this girl
came over to check the place out she ran into her sister who was a recently
arrived tennant whose flatmate was departing on transfer. She moved in with
her sibling and I decided that it was an omen for me to remain, taking on a
first short time customer one evening when Stephie was on night duty,  then
a couple more until I got a bloke who knew what he was doing.  There's been 
so many since,  but a generally positive experience for me as I still enjoy
sex in the social context, more even."

  "And Jo?"

  "She was Steph's replacement at work. It took about two months for her to 
lie back and take it as a professional, but she's become a right hot little
nympho since then. She was still a regular church-goer in her last posting,
not quite a virgin, but short on experience in the salami-hiding game.  Not 
now though."

  "No regrets then?"

  "None. I'm now being paid for what I was giving away for a few drinks and 
a meal.  I get lots of sex, some of it quite good, and I can be very choosy
about who I go out with on a social basis."
 
  "You don't tell your social dates about this, I assume."

  "No way, but it's funny having a secret life like this.  Last Christmas I
was sitting at the dinner table with all my kin and grinning inwardly at my
secret, thinking about what they'd think if they knew about my whoring."

                                     * 

  Although I envied their lovely furnishings and expensive motor transport,
I wasn't really tempted to join  their enterprise before a reason for me to
do so arose. It came in the form of Senior Sergeant Fiona Griggs who rapped
on my door in what I thought was an officious manner,  then barged straight
in without my invitation, my academy classmate Heather Doull in tow.

  Ms Griggs seemed surprised that I wasn't on the game, the main reason for 
for her visit, as she needed a woman working in the place to look out for a
guy she was after. It was a long standing vendetta of a personal nature for 
which she saw a conclusion, although the matter wasn't official because the
subject was known to be dead and buried. She was certain that he was not as
she'd glimpsed him momentarily a week or so before, or at least a tattoo on
his buttock, but lost him when he became aware she was following him.

  "I need to sight his tattoo and get a hair or skin cells for a DNA match,"
she told me, "so I'd like to use your shagging room to spy on whoever comes
in here. He's very keen on sex, no committments, and likes a new girl every
day, although he occasionally gets exclusive with a tart for a while. He'll
be coming here in due course as I have a feeling he lives locally."

  I agreed to let her use the room, although I had to go downstairs to make 
make all the arrangements as if I was going on the game. Ms Griggs insisted
that only we three knew  what she was doing as there was a real danger that
her investigation  would be terminated if others knew she was looking for a
dead guy.

  Over the next few days she furnished the room to look like how I imagined
a tart's workplace would appear, all that red and gold, even repapering the
walls. When she wasn't there I tried the big waterbed, very comfortable too,
while fantasizing over how it would feel to open one's legs for an absolute
stranger in selling one's sexual favours.  It caused me enough randiness to 
masturbate and made me wonder at my ability to use sex as a tool on the job, 
as I'd been told that others had done in the past.

  I went back to days after a week on nights to find that my colleagues had
pretty well moved into my flat. Ms Griggs was dressed in a see through red,
lace pegnoir and very tall stilletto heels, a blonde wig and copious makeup.
The sounds from the other room testified to very energetic sexual coupling,  
indicating that she'd undertaken the role completely.

  "I realized I couldn't just keep lurking about without raising suspicion,
so I'm playing the part, being what people expect me to be here," she said.
"I'm chatting with all the girls and been able to pump them for information 
in the course of normal workaday conversation."

  From six p.m. to two a.m. she saw nine paying customers while I watched a
truly dedicated police woman at work. She kept at it for a couple of weeks,
Heather and I working as her cockatoos through the peephole,  until she was 
required to attend an interstate conference on something she knew about. Of
course her search lapsed with her absence until we discussed the matter one
evening.

  "Yes," Heather agreed when I remarked on this apparent obsession. "Boss's  
boyfriend was killed chasing the guy, the love of her life. She's going for
revenge because she's absolutely sure she's seen him, convinced me anyway."

  "I can't imagine being so completely obsessed with something," I told her
between peeps through my spy hole. 

  "Oh I can, for a reason like that. It's so romantic, when you think about 
it. I'd like to help out, but I'm scared of what she'd think of me. I mean, 
it's one thing to sacrifice one's morals in a righteous cause, but to do so 
for another's problem might be seen as a bit of self-indulgence."

  "Well, I don't know," I told her thoughtfully. "I do agree that it's none 
of our business and that alone should preclude our involvement, but there's
something noble about the idea of risking one's reputation and chastity for
another's cause."

  I have no idea why I said that, but it had the entirely unintended effect 
of galvanizing Heather to worthy but precipitous action. She showered, made-
up her face and put on Fiona's working-girl costume and went down to take a
look into the waiting area.  She quickly returned and I heard a man's voice
as she closed the adjoining door,  then the muffled but unmistakable sounds
of happy sexual congress. 

  "Oh dear, I really didn't mean that to happen," she told me when she came
back out, her face deeply flushed.  "I managed to get myself in a situation
where I'd have looked silly if I tried to beg off. I reckon my cred maybe a 
bit higher now that I've been seen to do it and anyway, I don't think it'll
scar me for life, it wasn't too hard. Well, he was...you know what I mean."

  "I don't reckon I'd be so calm and collected after  being on the business 
end of a complete stranger's pussy probe," I shuddered.

  "You'd be surprised at how easy it is," she grinned coyly.  "It was funny 
in that he was certain he'd enjoyed a poke here with me a few months ago, I
actually booked him for driving under the influence back then, so there's a
positive here in that he'll never remember our first meeting."

  We enjoyed a chuckle about it before Heather went out again to select one
more likely-aged bloke to check for posterior tattoos in the ceiling mirror
as he pumped his pelvis to hers. The two had grown to seven before she went
home to sleep in the wee hours. I realized, since our earlier conversation,
that the idea of doing it to help her boss hadn't been as great a hurdle as 
she'd let on. Seven pokes in the pussy was pretty strenuous sex by anyone's 
measure, but she returned to repeat the performance on the next four nights.

  Then she was away on duty too, leaving me alone again,  wondering if they 
thought I'd step in and continue the investigation where they'd left off to
undertake priority duties. While it was something I had enjoyed fantasizing 
over abed with my vibrator, it hadn't entered my mind to actually put up my
favours for sale, despite knowing that I was the only woman to live in that
apartment block without having done so. 

  "Hi," greeted Fiona's voice through the phone's handpiece. "You know this
voice?"

  "Yes," I replied.
 
  "Is the other member of the team there?"

  "No," I told her, explaining the situation. 

  "Okay then," she said. "You'd better close down the opo because I've been
held over here for another month on secondment for training. No use blowing
money for nought."

  "That's okay," I blurted out without thinking. "Your partner's been fill-
ing in for you."

  I heard her gasp. "She's doing it on my behalf?"

  Again I explained things and how  Heather had inadvertently found herself
in the unfortunate position of being unable to back out without endangering 
the operation.

  "Greater love hath no woman......" I heard Fiona sigh at the other end of
the line. "Tell her there's no need to go on and close down 'til I get back
there. Okay? 'bye."

  "Yep, 'bye."

  I really hadn't noticed the low buzzing before, but suddenly sounded loud 
and immediate as men sought women to relieve their sexual needs, causing me
to wonder if I would ever be able to use my sex to further an investigation.
Heather had told me that Fiona had confided that she had done so on several
occasions and experienced great pleasure at seeing the facial expression on
an arrested person when the penny dropped and he recalled what he'd said to
her in bed. I went and switched it off, but then the oppressive silence got
to me while I watched the passing parade along the interior corridor. I saw
so many of my neighbours, all smiling and chatty, while they walked clients 
back to their rooms to service them.

  The following day, I was on night duties again, I found myself trying one
of Fiona's working girl costumes. I found my mirror image appealing, my tan
lines apparent beneath a turquoise pegnoir and matching stockings, platform
gold sandals and my dark hair in a ponytail held by a gold clip at my crown.  
I knew all the other ladies shaved or depilated their pubes and crotches so 
I attended to that matter with the electrolysis pen Fiona had used on hers,
doing a great impression of the style of lewd contortioniste act I've heard
of taking place in certain foreign bars.

  With the addition of makeup, including false eyelashes, my transformation
was complete; I looked like an absolute harlot, a member of the other team. 
I got my newly purchased vibrator and lay on the bed pretending to be gett-
ing a thorough seeing to by a randy client. The buzzer startled me, causing
me to almost crap my knickers and tachycardia to make me feel a bit woozy.

  I ignored it until my fear dissipated, then,  as there was clearly nobody
in, thought I might go and take a peek into the waiting area to see whether
our subject might have turned up. I looked out into the hallway to ensure I
was alone before stepping out and tiptoed towards the front of the building.
Just as I passed the next door on the other side of the corridor it opened,
making me jump again as I looked into the smiling, heavily madeup face of a 
chick who obviously had whoring in mind. There was a long awkward moment as
we stared at each other until I recognized Laurel, a thirty-odd, befreckled 
redhead who worked as a librarian at the local city library.

  "It might be only one bloke ringing all the bells to see if anyone's in,"  
she told me, gently taking my arm. "We could be lucky though."

  Lucky wasn't at all how I was feeling at that moment. I felt that I was a
real certainty to be trapped in an unwanted sexual encounter like Heather's 
recent experience, although she'd surprisingly found something positive out
of it all. I wasn't at all sure that I'd find it as easy to get over sex in
those circumstances.

  To my relief there was only the one guy at the door and he'd come to have
fun with Laurel.  I turned to flee to the safety of my flat when she called 
after me.
   
  "Hang about," she grinned. "You're wanted."

  A young man hurried across the waiting room and she let him into our part
of the place.

  "Hi, this is.......?" she paused.

  "Tyfani," I introduced myself. 

  "Hi, I'm Lee." 
 
  He blushed slightly as I realized that he was younger than I,  causing me
to wonder why he'd use a brothel for sex. 

  My innards churned as I returned to my flat trying to make smalltalk with
him, wondering how on earth I could have got myself into that situation, an
oddly familiar tingle of excitement growing in  my loins at the prospect of
nooky. It had been almost two years since I had last felt my pleasure pouch
stretched around an erect cock and that had been with a copper who'd forgot-
ten to mention that he was married over the four months we'd been going out
together.

  I'd never had sex with a male in a promiscuous situation before that, the
idea not entirely abhorrent to me by then as I did find him attractive, but
my mind was still rummaging about in the hope of finding a way to excuse my-
self from nooky with him. When I checked his dick under the light there was
no sign of any pus-oozing chancre, he was actually free of any marks at all,
so I resigned myself to my fate. I stripped and got him to do likewise when
noticed that his penis  remained as shrunken and flaccid as it was at first
showing

  "What would you like to do?" I enquired as he seemed more nervous than I.

  "I dunno," he mumbled self-consciously. "I've never done it before. Could
you show me what to do?"

  At that the situation changed completely for  me as I realized that I was
in control of the activity, however it wasn't of much consequence when poor
Lee suffered erectile problems, making me realize that I certainly needed a
penile insertion more than he needed to give one. There was a little packet 
of blueish, trapezoid tablets in the bedside drawer and I gave him one with
a cup of coffee, his cock astonishingly rising and hardening within minutes.

  "What made you come here for your first nooky?" I asked him.

  "My dad gave me the money for it, for my eighteenth birthday.  Somehow he
knew I hadn't done it yet and told me to come along here.  I sort of waited
until it wasn't too crowded because it's a bit embarrassing for me."

  "Oh, don't be embarrassed about it Lee," I reassured him. "We're going to
have some fun, you and I."

  I'd give him his money's worth I decided. If I was going to do it I might
just as well do it properly, especially as I'd taken on the role of helpful
hooker and he clearly thought me experienced in the game. I lay back on the
bed against the big pillows, legs drawn up and knees spread widely in order
to provide him with an intimate view of my secret parts.  I'd never been so
blatantly lewd before, but it felt appropriate in that situation and rather
good for me in a very erotic way.

  "Come on then," I said encouragingly, holding my arms up to him before he
crawled forward and settled into the welcoming valley of my person, feeling
him jerk at the thrill of our intimate contact.

  I guided his swollen, shiny knob to the smooth slit of my vulva, moisten-
ed it in my love juices,  then lifted my hips and pulled down on his bottom
to slide his cock easily into my wet and ready vagina. You can't imagine my
sexual need at that moment, I even surprised myself at the depth of my urge
to accommodate a male organ, as randy as I can ever remember being since my
puberty.

  "Take it easy, Lee," I cooed into his ear as he rammed his hips furiously
to mine. "You'll enjoy it much more if you make it last a bit."

  He slowed the cadence of his pumping bottom and lasted all of two minutes
before gushing a big, warm seminal flood into my womb, triggering my climax
and we lay together in a happy, satisfied embrace. 

  "That was really great," he told me self-consciously.

  He was a very personable young man I discovered as his shyness evaporated
and we revelled in the shameless pleasure of our attractive bodies and need
for physical contact with a member of the other gender. We fucked the whole
morning away, every time better than the last until we were entirely sated.
However, I told him to keep his money and to consider it a birthday present
from me.  

  After seeing him out I went into the en suite  where Heather was brushing
her hair in preparation for her first client. 

  "You really earned your cash in there," she chuckled lightly. "That was a
pretty strenuous workout."

  "How long were you listening?" 

  "The last hour or so."

  "Oh dear," I thought. "Will I try to explain that I didn't mean things to 
go that far,  but I didn't want her thinking I wasn't up to it, or should I
just relay the Boss' orders and hope she obeys."

  I passed on Ms Griggs instructions, but as I feared, Heather chose not to
comply.

  "Come on, we're big girls and we can decide for ourselves what's best for
us. I want Fiona to find closure with this case so I don't mind putting out 
in furtherance of that aim. Besides, I'm enjoying seeing how the other half 
live and it seems unlikely I'll get the opportunity for so much sex and sin
again during my career."

  "Okay," I nodded, wishing I'd come clean about my accidental whoring that
morning.

  It was all in then, no hanging back,  being as much a slut as I had to be 
to do the task at hand. Although I'd never have chosen to sell my body, the 
whole idea suddenly seemed more attractive to make me feel as if I was part 
of a clique at last.

  Heather enthusiastically went off to find herself a client after we'd put
new sheets on the bed and freshened the air with spray and the exhaust fan.
She was so keen to get into it that day I realized that she was at least as
keen to get a prick into her as she was to find Fiona's guy. That event was
likely to be something of a disappointment to her by current indications. I
knew that it was a pretty thin excuse for a bit of promiscuous nooky, after
Ms Griggs telling us not to get involved, but having already accommodated a
guy in a bordello situation I didn't feel any need to pull back and let her
go it alone.

  Her client and she sorely tested the skin of the water mattress during an
endurance test of their sexual capacity. She held nothing back and cursed a
blue streak along with him as they thrust their lower bodies together in an
abandoned rhythm of pounding lust. I noticed a discoloured patch on his bum
at the position which Fiona had nominated as her mystery man's tattoo's and 
thought maybe it could have been an erasure, but still being intent upon an 
experience in vice I let him pass until next time.  

  At the buzzer sound after Heather had finished I went down the hall where
I was confronted with the sight of my partner, Darren, staring open-mouthed
at my scantily-clad figure.

  "Senior!" he gasped.
  
  Fortunately there was nobody close enough to hear what he said and I took
his hand and dragged him up to the flat while warning him to stay silent in 
a hissing voice to emphasize my displeasure. 

  "What are you doing here?" I demanded.  "We're in the middle of a serious
investigation and you're stumbling around blowing my cover."

  "I just thought I'd see what's going on here," he mumbled, blushing deep-
ly in his embarrassment. "You know, for future reference."

  "Well, in future you should not greet or acknowledge anyone you see until
they speak to you first. You never know what they might be doing."

  "So, what are you doing then?"

  "You don't need to know the details, but Senior Detective Doull and I are
keeping an eye out for a chap who's s'posed to be deceased. Senior Sargeant
Griggs is certain she saw him and, because of his known habits, we're keep-
ing an eye out for him here by regularly looking into the reception room."

  Heather had listened in and played along with great skill as we had a cup
of coffee while Darren pumped us for details of the case. I took him to the
reception lounge again where I found he had a mate waiting, a young guy who
looked more than a little pleased with himself and had probably just shed a
long-hated virginity. They shook hands excitedly before walking out to have
a beer, I assumed. 

  A very large older bloke claimed me for a bit of relief, for he at least,
holding my arm as if I might try to escape as I led him upstairs to my room
for service. He was easily one-ten kilos, one-ninety tall and, when he took
it out for my inspection, equipped with a sexual organ that would have made 
any clydesdale stallion proud. He wasn't the most affable man I'd ever met,
he hadn't smiled or made more than a grunting sound since we'd met, but his
wedding tackle intrigued me and his whole body was composed of hard muscle. 
It's often said that penis size is not important, it's technique that's the
secret, but I'd defy any woman not to see a cock like that as a challenge.

  "Undress!" he boomed in a basso voice with a distinctly slavic accent.

  I complied and he looked over my naked form with an admiring gaze while I
broke out a condom and rolled it down over a shaft I couldn't close my hand
around. It was considerably thicker than my wrist with great, blue, protub- 
erant veins and a knob like a ripe, shiny blood plum.

                                     *                                     

  For the next week we competed to service every guy who took a shine to us, 
having more than sixty through our work room during the time. We got pretty
lewd and lusty when alone together discussing who and what we'd done with a
real feeling of pride at our courage. We weren't doing it for the cash, but
for entirely altruistic reasons;  making a genuine sacrifice on behalf of a 
colleague, we told ourselves, often.

  I was a reserve student for a weapons course and, with my luck, of course 
I was called up to attend when another candidate dropped out due to injury.  
When I returned at the end of the week I found, to my horror, Darren busily
fucking Heather who clearly loved every moment of it. He was easily as well
hung as Monstrous Milan and I'm surprised he didn't black out each time his
penis became erect, his body being so much smaller than our slavic friend's. 

  "Darren sussed us out the first time he came," Heather told me when their
lust was satisfied and they came out for coffee. "He's been helping me with
looking for our man because the mirrors aren't all that much good while the
light is dimmed down. You can see better through the spy hole."

  "And you rewarded him with a bit of salami secreting," I observed drily.

  "It's no chore," she grinned salaciously. "You saw the size of his cock?"

  I nodded. 

  "I know what they say about the irrelevance of penile dimensions, but the
mind is a funny thing; a woman's major sex organ I've heard it said. Try it
and tell me I'm wrong." 

  "He's my patrol partner," I told her, "and I am his superior officer. I'm 
really not too sure I can trust him to keep all this to himself,  let alone 
getting into my knickers."

  "You'll be surprised at how seriously he takes this job and at his matur-
ity about the transient nature of our relationship. He fully accepts that a
casual quicky for fun is just that: no strings or committment involved." 

  "Hey, ladies," he called. "I am here. Don't talk as if I'm not present. I
think I count, even if you don't."  

  Anyway I resisted the need to have Darren's snatch-stretcher in my vagina
despite Heather's urgings and one  would have never have known that he knew 
of my extracurricular activities at work. He acted as if he were absolutely 
ignorant of the situation and had become quite gentlemanly in a formal kind
of way.

                                     *
  
  The culmination of the investigation came one night when a guy who'd been
with me a few times before wanted to be on top for a change, revealing what
appeared to be the tattoo Fiona sought on his posterior. I bagged my sheets
and pillowcase for testing and went out to find Darren had been an observer
to my whoring, a somewhat disconcerting experience due to of our day to day
working relationship.

  "Heather's following him home, hopefully," he told me brightly. "I reckon
the Senior Sergeant should be pretty grateful to you ladies for the efforts
you're putting in on her behalf."

  "What are you saying, Darren," I demanded to know.

  "I'm saying what the words mean," he frowned. "You've both done much more 
than your duty. You've made a real sacrifice to help her and now looks like
you've cracked the case."

  "You're serious, aren't you?" I said,  a bit embarrassed at my assumption
of his being facetious.

  "Ye-es," he told me, looking slightly hurt at my doubting his sincerity.
"Why would you think I was taking the mickey?"

  "Just used to being teased that way, I guess. Girls have to put up with a 
lot of that kind of stuff in the service, more than the blokes." 

  "Unless you're considered to be a nerd and big sheila, like me."

  "Heather obviously doesn't think so," I reassured him.

  "But she only wants me for one thing," he said morosely. "She wouldn't be
at all interested if George was only average size, would she?"

  I smiled sympathetically because I knew he didn't say it boastfully.

                                     *

  Having now found that because of our relative positions at work, Darren's
feeling towards me was entirely fraternal, I quickly came to terms with his
watching me entertaining clients. He'd so wholly entered into the spirit of
our enterprise that we didn't speak of it on duty and then only when it was 
relevant in the flat. He even suggested a means by which we might get a way 
to record and review our work if nobody was available to observe the events
within our bordello room, using a nanny-cam.

  Heather lost her target  when he entered a pub and didn't come out again,
obviously having left by a rear exit. Looking it over the next day we found
a gap in the back fence and a laneway which would be very dark at night. He 
clearly went down there and through a back gate to one of the houses either 
side of the easement, but which one?  There were at least thirty properties 
on each side.

  We went back to work and over the following months he sought Heather's or  
my company for a bit of rumpypumpy on several occaisions, while we tried to 
track him home. Eventually, by a process of bracketting, we found the house 
he entered through the rear gate on the laneway and found he always left by
that means, never via the street at the front door.

  While all this was unfolding, Heather, I and, whenever she could find the
time, Fiona plied our trade in order to see more of our target.  Although I
begged off with as many chaps as possible to be available for him, I had to
service a fair number so not to cause any adverse comment. I can't say that 
I found the task onerous, the extra money and most of the sex was nice, and
I even became relaxed about having my sexual exertions watched by the three 
others involved. I knew then that I'd become a real moll, but felt no shame
at that. It was as if I'd met a challenge and surmounted it, adding another
skill set to my CV, but I didn't like to talk about it like Heather did. It 
made me feel uncomfortable when she talked in detail about the various ways
she'd enjoyed sex,  what men had done to her with their dicks and how she'd  
responded with her limbs or body. While I suppose that I was no less a keen 
participant in promiscuous sexual activity and in trying new things and new 
positions, I was much more modest about discussing them with others.

  The following morning I was out on the road with Darren when our Commscen
said that a Senior Sergeant Griggs had called to say we might be interested
in attending the intersection of two streets whose names seemed familiar to
me.  We arrived just in time to see our target being led from his residence 
in handcuffs by uniformed officers and Fiona and Heather watching the scene 
from their car. Fiona was obviously keen to conceal our undercover activity 
as there was sufficient evidence to convict her quarry of murdering whoever
the person whose body made the investigators think he was dead. Her revenge
was both sweet and complete.

  Of course we all went out to celebrate at the pub that evening where both 
Darren and I were were asked by Fiona whether we might be interested in the 
detection stream of police work and in further undercover operations. She'd 
found a number of matters which needed looking into and seemed to have been 
neglected by those responsible for investigating them, but not sure whether
it was due to idleness or corruption.  

  







































