Sexy Policewoman Costume の小説・ストーリー

"Well, she can't wear slave gear to work, except possibly a few piercings she could get away with. No collars or cuffs, possibly something very subtle in a bracelet, but for safety reasons having to do with getting strangled, necklaces are usually out. No nudity under her clothes. She's got to look like a civilian in the locker room or exercise room. Fresno, despite its size, will be a little more insular than Los Angeles. If you take her out on the town, she can look sexy, but not slutty. I assume she'll be residing with you?" "Yes." "Some of the Fresno police already know what your proclivities are due to the attack. Not much you can do about that. Although if asked, it could be she's livi

They were all wearing sunglasses, looking very much like special agents in Hollywood blockbusters. The middle-aged man in the lead had a serious-looking face with a long knife scar at the corner of his mouth. His gaze swept over the surroundings before looking at the burning frame of a Cadillac and the truck that had been cordoned off. When the nearby staff on patrol who rushed to the scene to handle the situation saw this group of people, they slightly backed off too. A sexy woman with a hot figure was wearing black leather clothes and a black trench coat. She had a ponytail and wore black high heels. Swaying her hips, she approached the middle-aged man from behind. She took out a transpare

Or worse, I was going to spend the rest of my life in a cage. The officer stepped out of her cruiser, her boots clicking with a slow, deliberate rhythm on the asphalt. She didn't look like any cop I'd ever seen. Her uniform was tailored so tight it looked painted on, the fabric straining against the curve of her hips and the heavy, dangerous swell of her breasts. She kept her aviators on despite the moonlight, her jaw set in a hard, predatory line. "License and registration," she rumbled, her voice a low, husky vibration that settled right in my groin.

I was in a parallel reality; it had to be. Then I looked to the side and saw that policewoman, unconscious, sitting, leaning against the wall. Her face was a mess, a bruise turning purple between her nose, mouth, and chin, on her forehead the word "slut" written in big, bold red letters, on the sides of her face two sideburns scribbled, on her arms childish watches drawn on the wrists, rings drawn on her fingers and even a necklace drawn on her neck, all very red. And on the floor, tufts of hair - her hair looked like my daughter's doll's, about six inches long, disheveled as if it had no shape.

I pulled on my costume, which consisted of a short, sleeveless pink leopard print dress, cat ears, and pink fishnets. "Oh my gosh!" Ellie giggled. "That's freaking fabulous!" I laughed. "Thanks!" I did my make-up next. I wore dark gray eyeshadow, heavy black eyeliner that flared out at the edges of my eyes, and eyeliner whiskers. Ellie studied me when I finished. "Wow… you look so different. You look… sexy." "Really!?" I beamed at her. "Fuckin' A!" "Do I look like a nurse?"

Some wearing kinky police officer suits, others doctors, and some even witches. All different sexual costumes . . . and yet the only thing they all have in common was that they were all wearing masks so their faces cannot be seen, only their lewd bodies. “But, remember, the golden rule is no one should be having sex with anyone, got that?” Mary Sue, in a bunny suit, muttered and I looked back at her. I smiled, hoping it didn’t show the fear dripping in my gaze. My hands landed on her shoulders. “Thank you,” for telling me, because I am getting the fuck out of here. I won’t last a minute in this tiger den.

For a second I thought I had imagined it, then when I felt Jessica’s body stiffen and heard her whisper “Oh shit!’ I knew there was someone else. A woman strode into view and stood at the foot of the bed facing Jessica and me. Jessica had her back to her and was still sitting on my cock. The woman was young, like Jessica, probably in her early to mid-twenties – but she was more athletic, a couple of inches taller and broader across the shoulders. Although she still had a great set of tits. She had blonde hair cut short and spiky and was wearing a police uniform that looked like it had seen better days. It was dirty and worn looking and the top at least seemed to be a couple of sizes too smal

Her phone beeped suddenly, she hesitated but picked up and realized it was a policeman. "Hello, we are at the park. We…" "Oh! Thanks so much, thanks so much for showing up," Lisa said and sniffled repeatedly. She got a grip on herself and said more coherently. "The victim is already in the park. She is a woman. She is wearing a short velvet gown. She is wearing a pair of black shades and she smokes. She is moving towards the monument in the center of the park and carrying a black polythene bag. You are to watch out for whoever comes to snatch the polythene bag. He or she is the culprit, make sure you don't lose him," she said and hung up immediately. She stuck a stick of cigarette into her m

There was no turning back now; she was ready to confront whatever challenges awaited her. At the outskirts of a vibrant town, Angelique stood with an aura of unyielding confidence, her tailored Fendi suit sculpting her silhouette with precision. The sumptuous fabric draped elegantly over her figure, enhancing her commanding presence as she conversed intently with a group of police officers, detailing the harrowing events that had unfolded the night before. Her steady voice, tinged with an undeniable emotional resonance, drew her listeners in, weaving them into the very fabric of the chaos she was describing. One officer, intent and focused, diligently recorded her every word, his brow furrow

Telling the police about my foolishness is another story. I don’t understand why I’m part of this at all. Okay, so Moon had me brought to his house after the incident in the garage. It doesn’t explain why I’m suddenly a player in his deadly game. Yes, men look at me and want in my pants. My looks do the job without needing a tramp stamp to advertise. On the force, I wore a Kevlar vest and kept my hair in a tight bun. I never put on more than minimal makeup. I was taken seriously, and when I went on patrol, people saw me only as a cop.