Officer Kayleigh Sachs stormed into the Rustfield police precinct’s women’s changing room. Her hazel eyes blazed with fury after yet another formal complaint to the captain. She has had to put up with a year’s worth of bullshit since joining the force, and she was starting to wonder if the extra pay was worth it.

The young 24-year-old officer slung her duty bag onto the bench, the thud echoing in the empty room. Being the only female cop on the force had very few benefits, but having a room to get changed all by herself was one of them. She slipped out her casual civilian clothes, a white t-shirt, black leggings, and a baggy gray hoodie, and dropped them into her bag. Kayleigh zipped the bag up and opened her locker, ready for another day of proving her worth. Her eyes widened at the horrific sight before her.

A skimpy bikini hung from the locker’s hook, its navy top sporting a badge that mimicked the Rustfield Police Department, paired with tiny g-string bottoms that promised to cling to her like a second skin and show off her body in ways that made her feel sick. A folded note slipped onto the floor, and Kayleigh bent over to pick it up. Her fingers trembled with rage as she read the message. Scrawled in bold Sharpie, it read: Your new uniform, Officer Hot Stuff. Wear it with pride.

Kayleigh’s fists tightened as she screwed the note up into a ball. She knew exactly who had written that note: Officer Peter Jennings. The smug bastard had a frat-boy instinct and enjoyed the old boys’ club atmosphere before the brunette woman showed up around here. Kayleigh wasn’t someone to let an indiscretion go by unpunished, and the officers soon felt like they were walking on eggshells whenever she was around. They needed to fix the culture around here, she thought.

The brunette’s blood boiled as she slammed the locker door shut. A year ago, she’d been the star of a prestigious NYPD precinct, hauling in street thugs and earning honors as the most ambitious young cop two years running.

Rustfield was a small New Jersey town with old-fashioned, backward ways of thinking. The department’s police chief had been tasked with diversifying the all-male force and instilling some diversity into the town. He dangled a large carrot in the form of a bumper paycheck directly in front of Kayleigh’s face, and she snatched at the opportunity. Not only was the pay more than double what she earned in New York, but she also had a real chance to push some change in this small town.

However, it wasn’t as easy to change hearts and minds as she thought, and she had spent the last 12 months withstanding casual and sometimes blatant sexism. The crude comments they made about female members of the public in the break room, as though she wasn’t even there, riled her up. She had gone to the captain numerous times, and he always had her back. Six officers were currently on their final warnings, including Peter Jennings, the worst of the worst.

Kayleigh opened a spare locker with an extra set of the standard-issue police uniform and got changed. Once she adjusted her collar and holstered, she geared up and marched towards the bullpen. Typically, Peter was standing there with Officer John Mason and Officer Adam Smith, his two misogynistic buddies, presumably joking about some woman one of them hooked up with last night.

Kayleigh’s boots hit the floor with purpose, unafraid of the three men. She squared straight up to the dark blond-haired Peter, who rose from his desk when he saw the woman furiously approaching.

“You’re a real piece of shit, Jennings!” She shouted. “You think your pranks are funny? I’m this close to reporting you and getting your ass hauled out of here!” Her breath was heavy, and she didn’t hold back.

Peter’s blue eyes danced with smug delight as he straightened up. “Whoa, Kayleigh, calm down, sweetheart,” he said. The use of her first name and the various pet names was exactly the kind of casual sexism she had to put up with. He wouldn’t have dreamed of disrespecting a male colleague that way. “You can’t prove anything was me, babe.”

She stepped closer, almost pushing herself up against the cocky man. “You’re on your final warning, Jennings,” she reminded him. “Don’t push me.”

His grin never left his face, but Peter took a step back. “Jeez, your panties are wound up in a knot today, princess,” he mocked her. “I’ll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine.”

The brunette woman glared at him, her heart pounding with each misogynistic taunt. She turned her focus on the two men who were smart enough to keep their traps shut. “Grow up, Peter!” She groaned before turning around and storming out of the bullpen.

Away from the disrespectful men, Kayleigh peered at her image on a reflective surface on the way out of the building. She was in no mood to play nice today, she thought. With her resolve intact to show the world exactly how competent Kayleigh Sachs was, she left the building and headed to her car for another day on the beat.

❖

Officer Sachs was, once again, assigned to Rustfield’s main street. The captain wanted his singular diversity attempt to be visible to the town, so he usually assigned Kayleigh to the busiest areas. She often felt more like a photo op and local celebrity than a serious cop.

Kayleigh paused at a crosswalk and noticed an old lady with a cane halfway across, with only one second left on the timer. The officer stepped forward and carefully offered her arm. “Let me help you across, ma’am,” she said kindly.

The lady smiled, her wrinkled hand gripping the officer’s elbow. “You’re a sweetheart, officer,” she said warmly. “There aren’t many like you around here.”

Kayleigh nodded and helped the woman across the street, accepting her thanks and continuing with her work. Rustfield was a sleepy old town, and mundane tasks such as helping old people cross the street or assisting lost motorists were regular parts of the job, a far cry from the real crime that takes place in New York City.

After straightening her uniform, Kayleigh’s eyebrow rose as she noticed a sleek black Porsche parked illegally. The town was small enough for the office to know the owner of the vehicle wasn’t from around here, despite his New Jersey plates. What kind of asshole thinks he can just sit parked on double yellow lines? Without hesitation, Kayleigh approached the vehicle.

Kayleigh tapped sharply on the tinted driver’s window of the expensive vehicle, her ticket book already flipped open in her hand. Suddenly, the window started sliding down, and the roof receded into an open convertible. Did the occupant think that this would impress her?

She stared ominously at the man sitting confidently in the driver’s seat. There was something off about him. He wore a smart, tailored charcoal-gray suit. He had slicked-back bright orange hair and wore black sports sunglasses that hid his eyes from her gaze. “Good morning, officer,” he said with a thick British accent. An air of superiority and detachment to his words made the young cop uneasy. “Is there something wrong?”

Kayleigh’s hazel eyes narrowed. The man’s words put her on edge, but she wasn’t about to let some arrogant jerk talk his way out of a ticket. “You’re parked on double yellow lines, sir,” she said professionally. “This is an illegal spot. You are not allowed to be here, so move your vehicle, or you’ll be issued a ticket.”

The mysterious man tilted his head, his sunglasses catching Kayleigh’s reflection as he stared at her. “I’m precisely where I need to be, Officer Sachs,” he said. The mention of her name escaping his lips made the brunette shudder. Her surname was printed on her uniform, so it was no surprise, but how he said it made the woman feel dirty. “However, I won’t stop you from fulfilling your duties.”

The entire conversation filled the determined cop with unease. He had a sociopathic detachment about him, and she knew she needed to investigate further. “ID, now,” she barked at him, her patience running thin.

The man’s lips curled into a faint, unsettling smirk, his fingers lazily reaching into his suit jacket. Kayleigh’s hand gripped her holster in an act of caution. He pulled out a New Jersey driver’s license. He handed it to the cop with a deliberate slowness, like he was savoring her irritation.

The officer snatched it and scanned the card. He read it several times before looking back at him with a puzzled expression. “Is this a joke?” She asked. The name on the ID card read ‘Anon Emous’, and the photo showed him in the same black sunglasses he currently wore, his orange hair slicked back. This couldn’t be an official driver’s license.

Anon Emous leaned back in his seat, his smirk widening as he adjusted his sunglasses. “I assure you, Officer Sachs, it’s entirely legitimate,” he said with his proud British accent. “Go ahead and write your ticket. I won’t cause a fuss.”

Kayleigh stared at him momentarily. Everything about this guy screamed trouble—his smug tone, absurd name, and how he spoke as though he owned the town. She wrote up her ticket before handing it to him, along with his license. “You’re not cute, and you’re not clever,” she howled. “Now get out of here before I do something more than issue a ticket.”

He took the paper with a slow, deliberate motion. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” He mocked. “I like that in a woman.” His words were reminiscent of the casual sexism she had endured back at the station.

She crouched down to his eye level. “Say something like that again, and you’ll be picking this pretty car up from the impound after your release.”

“Such spirit,” the mysterious man laughed stoically before removing his sunglasses. A sudden cold shudder ran down the brunette’s spine as she stared into his eyes. They were bright red, sparkling, with pitch-black pupils that swirled in the police officer’s mind.

“You are a pretty one,” he complimented the officer, her gaze lost in his mesmerizing eyes. “However, you’d be far more captivating with heavy, bold makeup, darling. Bright lipstick, heavy eye makeup, the entire works. You only feel comfortable that way.”

Kayleigh’s mouth opened slightly, but her mind was elsewhere, lost in the man’s mystical, otherworldly eyes. Eventually, Anon Emous placed the sunglasses back on his face, covering his mesmerizing red eyes, and Kayleigh snapped back to reality.

“I’ll be seeing you around, Officer Sachs,” Anon said with a grin before firing up his raucous engine and driving off, leaving a trail of exhaust fumes behind him.

Kayleigh blinked. She was confused as she saw the ticket book clutched in her hand. What was she doing exactly? The entire last ten minutes were a blur, a blank spot in her memory.

She shrugged, pocketed the book, and got back to work. Living in this backward town was a nightmare, but she would turn it around. The world was changing, and it needed people like her to push through reform. As she headed back down the street, she caught her reflection in a store window. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something felt wrong about her appearance.

❖

Officer Sachs pushed through the women’s changing room door into the lobby, her navy police uniform buttoned up, her short brown hair pulled into a tight bun. She had reported Officer Jennings for yesterday’s bikini prank and was waiting for the results. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to see him around here much longer.

Kayleigh looked around the sparsely populated station. She caught a couple of new recruits staring at her too long before looking away when they discovered they’d been caught. At least Officer Jennings wasn’t around. She tugged on the hem of her ironed police shirt and headed towards the exit.

As she strode through the station, she thought about the wording in her complaint and the photographic evidence she had presented to Captain Malone. There was no way that asshole would be able to cling on to his job after that. Just as the young officer outstretched her hand to open the precinct door, it swung open, with the cocky Peter Jennings striding in. His eyes lit up when he saw the female cop. Officer Sachs took two steps back.

Peter stopped dead in the doorway, his stocky frame blocking Kayleigh’s path. His blond hair was tousled, and his blue eyes sparkled with a glee that surpassed any juvenile expression she had seen from him before. Kayleigh’s nemesis leaned against the door frame, his gaze raking over her face like he had spotted a winning lottery ticket. “Well, damn, Kayleigh,” he drawled, using her first name disrespectfully. “I’m lovin’ that makeup, babe. Those red lips definitely suit you, sweetheart.”

Kayleigh’s fists clenched. She wanted to slap him across the face but knew he would likely be gone in a matter of days, so she needed to keep her cool. “Keep taunting, Jennings,” she muttered. “I reported you to Malone for that bikini trick you pulled yesterday. You’re as good as gone.”

The fact that Peter didn’t look concerned as she mentioned the report infuriated the feminist cop even further. “Sure, sweet cheeks,” he said mockingly. “Just keep rocking that look, and this station will sure liven up.” He laughed, strutting away from her before the brunette could formulate a response.

Kayleigh furiously glanced back at Peter as his mocking laugh faded down the hallway. She shook her head and gripped the precinct door handle. She couldn’t wait to see the back of him. The woman sucked in a sharp breath and pushed the door open, determined not to allow that asshole to get to her today. As her fingers brushed the glass, her reflection flashed in the window, and she stopped dead. Her face was slathered in thick, bold makeup. Jet-black eyeliner was carved in thick along her eyes, dramatic sweeps of mascara gave her eyes a sultry feel, glossy red lipstick was painted on her lips brazenly and boldly, and her cheeks were adorned with colorful rose blush that gave her a vivid, almost cartoonish, glow. She wore a gaudy mask, utterly foreign to her. She would never have been caught dead wearing this on a date, let alone walking the streets as a cop.

“What the fuck is this?” She muttered to herself as her voice quivered with rage. She hadn’t slathered this crap onto her face, and she never would. She briefly thought about turning around and wiping it all off, but an uneasiness came over her. The idea of removing the bright red lipstick and heavy mascara made her feel incredibly uncomfortable. She didn’t know why, but she was stuck with it.

She sighed, letting out a resigned groan, before pushing the door open and heading outside. She would deal with that bullshit later. For now, she had a job to do.

❖

Kayleigh Sachs patrolled Rustfield’s main street, her police uniform buttoned up. Her father had raised her to respect the uniform, and she wore it proudly. Unfortunately, her garish makeup remained, and she felt self-conscious every time a member of the public’s stare lingered a little too long.

The cop turned down an alley and groaned as she spotted two kids, maybe fourteen or fifteen, tagging the side of a pawn shop with spray cans. “Hey, you little brats!” She called out. The echo of her voice was enough to startle the pair as they looked her way. They immediately dropped the cans and took off in the opposite direction. Kayleigh considered chasing after them but decided against it; they were just harmless kids. “I need a clean-up crew behind Hank’s Pawn Shop,” she called into her radio before heading back onto the main street.

Kayleigh’s eyes swept the street, and her gaze landed on a shiny, black Porsche sticking out like a sore thumb. She had never seen it before, so the driver probably wasn’t a local. The vehicle was parked on double yellow lines, and any American should know it was illegal to park there. Just another rich jerk who thought the rules didn’t apply to him, she thought.

She strode over, collecting her ticket book from her inside pocket, and knocked sharply on the driver’s tinted window. The window rolled down as the roof folded into itself, creating a sporty convertible. A lean man with bright orange hair and a well-pressed gray suit sat unconcerned in the driver’s seat. Kayleigh couldn’t see his eyes through the black sunglasses he sported, but his confident, cocky demeanor was on show for all to see. “Good morning, officer,” he said with a heavy British accent. His words felt like chalk scraping down her spine. “Is there a problem?”

Kayleigh’s eyes narrowed. Surely, the man was playing with her. He must have known he couldn’t park here. “You’re parked on double yellows, sir,” she said sharply and professionally. “That’s illegal. You can’t be here. Now move your vehicle, or I’ll issue you a ticket.”

The mysterious man tilted his head, his sunglasses catching Kayleigh’s reflection as he stared at her. The officer gasped as she was reminded of her bright, bold makeup style through the sunglasses. “Oh no, officer. I’m exactly where I need to be.”

The young cop felt uneasy and briefly thought of calling in backup. He spoke with a strange, detached demeanor she would associate with a psychopath. She decided against using her radio, figuring her firearm would be useful in an emergency. “I need to see your ID, now, sir,” she barked.

The man’s grin widened. He reached into his dashboard and pulled out a New Jersey driver’s license, handing it over with a theatrical flourish. What was this entitled assholes deal? The officer grabbed it, her eyes scanning the card, and her brows furrowed. “Anon Emous?” she questioned with contempt. “Do you think this is a joke?” She studied the ID for signs of forgery. “You do understand that creating a fake official document is a federal offense, right?” She warned him.

“Trust me, Officer Sachs, it’s entirely legitimate,” Anon Emous said smugly with his posh British accent. “And if I may say, you are looking quite fetching this morning. That makeup really shows you in a positive light.”

Kayleigh’s blood boiled. She had enough of this bullshit back at the station, and she wasn’t going to put up with it from pompous British rich boys. “Keep your sleazy comments to yourself,” she uttered as she wrote out a ticket. She handed the man the slip along with his ID. “Now get this car moved before I get it impounded.”

He accepted the ticket with a slow, deliberate motion, his fingers grazing hers enough to make her skin crawl and prompting her to flinch back. “You’re just as fiery as last time,” he said with amusement. Kayleigh looked at him, confused. Last time? She had never seen him before in her life.

As the officer parted her painted lips to speak, Anon removed his sunglasses, revealing a pair of bright red, sparkling eyes, with pitch-black pupils. Suddenly, Kayleigh’s mind traveled elsewhere as she stared gormlessly into the man’s mesmerizing eyes. “As I said, you look pretty with that makeup,” he continued. “But you still look a little too stuffy.” Kayleigh stared ahead her subconscious following every word. “You should visit Kiki’s Salon on Maple Street every week, and ask for The Works each time. That will fix you up.”

Kayleigh continued to stare into his shimmering red eyes until the mysterious ginger man replaced his sunglasses, knocking the cop back to her senses and returning her to the current reality.

“I’m sure I’ll see you soon, Officer Sachs,” the man said teasingly as he started his engine and roared off into the distance, leaving the police officer alone with a plume of smoke before her.

Kayleigh blinked. She glanced down at her ticket book in confusion. Has she issued someone a ticket? She tried to recall the last ten minutes but nothing came to mind. Perhaps Peter’s antics were getting to her. She pocketed the ticket book and began walking back down Main Street when she caught a glance at her reflection in the window. Something felt off, and it wasn’t the despicable makeup on her face. She didn’t know what it was but she knew something was wrong. As she resumed her patrol, the words ‘Kiki’s Salon’ entered her mind.

❖

Officer Kayleigh Sachs shoved open the women’s changing room door into the precinct lobby with a storm of fury. She flicked a long strand of platinum blonde hair out of her eyes, then gasped as her 2-inch glossy pink fingernail stabbed her cheek, the sharp plastic drawing a pinprick of pain.

“Fuck,” she muttered to herself, her voice tight with irritation as she rubbed the spot. Her eyes flickered with a mixture of confusion and fury. Why had she visited that goddamn salon last night, and why had she asked for The Works? Why had she sat there as some redheaded bimbo vandalized her hair and face? Worst of all, why couldn’t she demand the little slut change it all back?

Kayleigh’s eyes swept the lobby, landing on Peter Jennings and Officer John Mason near the bullpen, their heads bent together, chuckling over some dumb joke. She stepped forward, her boots hitting the hard floor, and her movement caught Peter’s eye.

The antagonistic officer straightened up and locked his blue eyes onto her, his smile spreading like he had just won a bet. Mason turned too, his expression filled with surprise and amused bemusement when he saw the transformed officer before his eyes.

Peter’s gaze raked over Kayleigh’s new look with a sleazy admiration that made her skin crawl. Her new long, wavy platinum blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders, shimmering against the lights in a way her natural color never could. Dark, thin, highly arched, tattooed eyebrows replaced her previous bushy iterations, giving her a perpetually surprised expression that clashed with the current fury in her eyes. Large, bright pink, plastic hoop earrings dangled from her lobes, swinging comically as she walked, contrasting her professional uniform beautifully. She still wore the thick, bold makeup, although this time, her lips and cheeks were shaded pink, with her lips taking on a gloss that competed with the shine of her hair. Hidden beneath her outfit, the piercings were by far the most invasive procedure; clit, navel, nipples, and tongue, all decorated with bimboesque jewelry.

“Well, damn, Kayleigh,” Peter drawled with mock praise. “Look at you now? Having a midlife crisis in your twenties?” He laughed, giving his buddy a high five.

Kayleigh parted her glossy pink lips to retort as she clenched her fists, but a stabbing in the palms of her hands reminded her of the impractical talons on the tips of her fingers. She decided against giving him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, she trotted off towards the exit. The Captain was due to give her an outcome to her complaint tomorrow, so hopefully, this was the last time she would see his misogynistic face.

The newly blonde officer knew she needed to have these changes reversed if anyone was going to take her seriously, but the idea of removing the alterations made her feel visibly sick. It was a problem for another time, she surmised. Resolving to take the day as it comes, the female cop left the precinct alone to perform her duties.

❖

Officer Sachs pounded down Main Street, her long platinum hair swaying as she sprinted. A shout had pulled her from her patrol, an old lady’s cry as some street thug mugged her of her handbag. The officer had spotted the criminal, a lanky guy in a dark hoodie, and took off after him, shouting for him to stop. As she took off, her large plastic earrings bouncing against her neck, making her job much more difficult, she followed him into an alley and had the man cornered.

She cornered the lanky man against a dumpster, her chest heaving as she recovered from her spring. “Drop the handbag, asshole!” She demanded, clutching for her firearm.

“I ain’t listening to some stripper cop like you,” the man growled back in an unrefined accent before lunging at the blonde woman, catching her off guard. As Kayleigh hit the floor, the man scurried up and tried to escape with the bag, but the woman wasn’t going to let him get away. She stood back up, and rugby tackled the man to the ground. Despite his superior size, years of training had given the cop the edge, and she soon had him locked in cuffs. “Stay put, asshole.” She barked.

Kayleigh hauled the mugger to his feet, his wrists twisting in the cuffs as he cursed her under his breath. She called it in as she returned to Main Street and reacquainted the old lady with her stolen bag. After being thanked mercilessly by the lady, Kayleigh waited ten minutes for a vehicle to arrive.

Officer Barry Hawke pulled up in a patrol car, the older man’s burly frame filling his seat. He exited the vehicle and took the cuffed thug from the female officer. The policeman’s eyes lingered on Kayleigh’s new look. “Nice catch, Sachs,” he said more respectfully than she was used to. I’m loving the new look; it’s very sexy.” The woman sighed; she knew the respect couldn’t last long.

Kayleigh rolled her eyes, but instead of taking the bait with a retort, she turned away. As she stepped down the street, something unusual caught her eye: a black Porsche was illegally parked on double yellow lines. She had never seen the car before, so she figured he must have been a tourist. Still, he should be aware of such fundamental road laws.

Kayleigh approached the flashy parked car and tapped the window, slipping her ticket book from her pocket. Her long fingernails made the menial task more complicated than it needed to be. The window slid down, and the hard roof receded back, leaving the car in its convertible style. The man inside looked like the epitome of entitled arrogance. His bright orange hair was slicked back, he had a strong jaw, and he wore a sharp, tailored charcoal suit. “Good afternoon, officer,” he spoke with an eerie and proper British accent. “Is there a problem?”

The officer’s gut twisted, an uneasy prickle crawling up her spine at the man’s chilling accent. “You’re parked on double yellow lines, Sir,” she said firmly, although she couldn’t hide the irritation in her voice. “That’s illegal. You must know that, right? You’re not allowed to be here.”

The mysterious man tilted his head, and Kayleigh gasped at her image in the reflection of his sunglasses. The bright, inappropriate makeup, the wavy hair, the perpetually surprised expression, the pink earrings, and the silver tongue piercing glinting in the sun. “Ohh, Officer Sachs, I’m precisely where I’m supposed to be,” he retorted.

Kayleigh’s eyes narrowed, her unease spiking as the man’s British voice slithered over her name, too familiar for a stranger. “I need to see your ID, now,” she snapped at the man. Something about his presence put her on edge, and she was ready to apprehend him.

The man grinned as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a New Jersey driver’s license before slowly handing it to the officer. Kayleigh snatched it from him with her pink-clawed hands and examined the document. Her eyes narrowed despite her eyebrows permanently arching in a surprised expression. “Hmm, are you messing with me?” She asked the man. “Anon Emous? Nobody has a name like that.” She shook her blonde-haired head. “Hand me your real license.”

“It’s a perfectly real license, Office Sachs,” his posh British accent dripped with smug amusement, without a single care in the world. “And if you don’t mind me saying, you look delicious this afternoon. Blonde sure does suit you, officer.”

Kayleigh’s blood flared, her fingers gripping the freshly written ticket so hard her pink nails almost punctured the paper. “Keep that creepy bullshit to yourself,” she growled before handing him back his license and ticket. “Now get the hell out of here before I call a tow.”

Anon Emous took the ticket with a languid motion, his fingers brushing hers just enough to make her recoil. “You’re still so spirited,” he commented. Kayleigh parted her bright pink lips in bemusement as she registered what he had said. Still spirited? She had never met this asshole before.

Before she could reply, the mysterious man removed his sunglasses, revealing his glowing red eyes that snared her like a vice. The blonde’s mind went blank, her body frozen as a warm, suffocating fog swallowed her thoughts. “Your look is perfect. Kiki did a great job, and you will visit her every week,” he said. “However, look at that body of yours. You look more like a young boy than a pretty lady. You need curves, lots of them; the faker, the better.” Anon Emous grinned widely as he stared at the entranced woman. “Visit Dr. Frank’s Clinic, and give him your name. He will be expecting you, and everything’s already paid up.”

The ginger man replaced his sunglasses, knocking Kayleigh out of her trance. Without a word, the man flashed the cop a grin before speeding off into the distance, a plume of smoke the only sign that he was there at all.

Kayleigh blinked in confusion, staring at her long pink nails gripping the ticket book. What had she been doing? She tried to remember, but the last ten minutes were a total blur to her. Putting away her ticket book, Officer Sachs went about her patrol, pausing briefly as she came across her reflection in a closed store window. The blonde hair, the heavy makeup, the fake eyebrows, the long nails, none of it was her. Why had she allowed this to happen? However, something else felt wrong, something about her body. She stared at herself a few moments longer, but the blonde couldn’t pin it down. It could wait, she thought to herself. She shrugged and headed back to work; the criminals won’t catch themselves, after all.

❖

Officer Kayleigh Sachs slammed the door to the women’s locker room with a fury as she exited the room, her navy blue standard-issue police uniform straining against her curves, her platinum blonde hair spilling over her shoulders in loose waves. A month’s approved leave of absence had left her seething, and the sexist cheers from the crowded bullpen when she left the secluded safety of the dressing room riled her up even further.

The center of the station erupted with the hoots of a dozen officers, their voices mocking her recent changes with perverted approval. Peter Jennings stood at the forefront, his stocking frame leaning lazily against a desk, his blue eyes gleaming with sleazy delight as he clapped with his comrades.

As the female cop stood forward, careful not to force her top to strain any further, she heard a comment from Officer Smith. “Damn, she looks like a walking sex doll now.” She shot him a glare, but her cartoonish appearance prompted more laughter.

Kayleigh’s fists clenched, her 2-inch glossy pink nails digging into her palms as Peter’s gaze slithered over her transformed body, his admiration a sickening mix of lust and mockery. Her huge pink-painted lips formed an O-shape as they froze naturally into a permanent pout; the female officer needed to consciously push her lips together to allow them to close fully. Massive round E-cup breasts strained the seams of her navy top as the outfitter didn’t have a new version that accounted for her new assets. Her chest’s new exaggerated size was a glaring contrast to her slimmer waist, which flared into a bubble butt that appeared to sway in a sultry manner with each angry step.

Officer Sach’s tattooed eyebrows continued to arch highly, her plastic pink hoop earrings gave her a trashy demeanor, and her heavy makeup finished off the look of a prostitute hired to act like a slutty cop. “Well, well,” Peter said as he separated from the group and approached the busty cop. “Now I can see why the captain gave you that bumper pay offer. How else could you pay for those funbags?”

Kayleigh’s eyes flared with fury. She didn’t understand how this was happening, but she was starting to believe that Peter had something to do with it. “I don’t know how the hell you still have a job,” Kayleigh snapped back, her words slightly lisping as she was still getting used to her new thick lips, the tongue piercing flashing as she spoke. “But you will still treat me with respect, understand?”

Peter’s smile widened as he looked the transformed blonde up and down slowly and methodically once again. “Whatever you say, Officer Sexdoll.” His words prompted laughter from the gathered group of male cops. The man turned and headed back to the group before Kayleigh could formulate a response.

The furious blonde turned on her boots and headed towards the exit, ignoring the mocking woops from the bullpen behind her. As she reached the glass door, her reflection slammed into her. A total bimbo stared back, all pouting O-shaped lips, grotesque round breasts, cinched waist and oversized ass. She couldn’t believe she was staring at herself. “What has gotten into me?” She asked herself. She vividly remembered visiting Dr Frank’s clinic and waking up to discover her changes. She needed to go back there and ask the old man to revert her alterations, but the mere thought made her nauseous. She shook her blonde-haired head. That was a problem for another time. For now, she had a job to do.

❖

Officer Sachs trudged down Main Street as the sun began to dip low, painting the sky in beautiful streaks of orange and pink, her police uniform holding together valiantly against her transformed body. The day had been horrible. Each interaction was laced with disrespect, with the town’s men making inappropriately lewd comments and the women dismissing her as an attention-seeking slut.

A sharp voice cut through the evening quiet. Kayleigh’s hazel eyes snapped to a street corner where a man in a loud purple suit, dripping with gold chains and rings, berated two women dressed in skimpy outfits; their heavy makeup and tight dresses that barely covered their assets gave Kayleigh all the information she needed.

The pimp’s voice was a harsh snarl, his hands waving as he scolded the women for their lack of business over the last couple of days. Kayleigh shook her head and approached the trio. “Move it along, all of you,” she barked. “You know you can’t operate out here.” The night shift was used to dealing with whore and pimps trying their luck, but Kayleigh occasionally had to deal with them if they started work early enough,

The pimp spun, his gold teeth flashing a sleazy grin as he took in Kayleigh’s straining E-cup breasts, flowing blonde hair, and heavy makeup. “Well, hot damn, officer,” he drawled with excitement and mockery. “Why don’t you come join us? I’ll give you a sweeter deal than your Daddy’s paying you.”

Kayleigh’s thick lips parted wider in shock. He thought she was a prostitute? How dare he! “Move your fucking ass before I call backup and drag you to the station,” she snapped venomously. The blonde never cursed at work, but her frustration had reached boiling point.

The pimp held his hands up. “Of course, officer, we’ll move along,” he said, directing his sluts into a nearby building, his eyes never moving from Kayleigh’s transformed body until he reached the steps.

The busty cop shook her head and pulled out her phone to check the time; just fifteen minutes of her shift remained. She spotted a black Porsche illegally parked on double yellow lines and groaned. She had never seen the vehicle before and figured it was probably some rich soy boy tourist who thought the law didn’t apply to him.

Kayleigh marched over, pulling her ticket book out from her pocket, before tapping aggressively on the dark-tinted windows; she wasn’t in any mood to play games with this bastard. The window slid down, and the roof receded on itself to reveal an orange-haired man with a big shit-eating grin wearing black sunglasses. He wore a well-fitted gray suit and sat in the car like he was doing no wrong. “Evening, officer,” he spoke with a thick British accent that gave the blonde chills down her spine. “Is there an issue?”

Kayleigh shuddered. Something about how this man spoke rubbed her the wrong way, and his smug grin set her on edge. “You’re parked on double yellows,” he said, trying to be professional. “You must know that’s illegal. You can’t park here.” Her long nails gripped the book as she prepared to issue him a ticket.

The man leaned back, his sunglasses hiding his eyes, his grin widening like he was toying with her. “Ohh, on the contrary, Officer Sachs,” he said, his British accent slithering over her name with too much familiarity. “I’m exactly where I am supposed to be.” He flashed a pearly white smile. “But go ahead, officer. Do your duty.”

The blonde narrowed her eyes. Who the hell did this arrogant piece of shit think he is? She thought. “I need to see your ID, now,” she ordered him, her professionalism wavering.

The man slowly reached for a card in the passenger seat. He handed it to the busty cop with a deliberate slowness that irritated her further. She snatched it from him, her brows furrowing despite their tattooed arch. “Seriously?” She asked skeptically. “Anon Emous? What kind of joke are you pulling?”

Anon Emous chuckled. “It’s perfectly legitimate, officer,” he said amusedly. “And may I say that gorgeous bimbo body of yours is exquisite. I approve, darling.”

The cop clenched her fists. She had had it with the misogynistic assholes in this town. “Shut your filthy mouth, you creep,” she snapped as she scrawled on the ticket before handing it to him, along with his license. “Get this car moved before I tow it myself.”

He took the ticket, his grin unshaken, before he slid his sunglasses down his nose, revealing a pair of ominous glowing red eyes. The moment Kayleigh glanced into his eerie eyes, she fell into a deep trance, unable to break away. “You’ve got the perfect bimbo body now,” he said with a commanding presence. “But that attitude’s all wrong. It’s time your mind matched the new you, sweetheart. Enjoy your new life.” He replaced his sunglasses, halting the trance. The anonymous man flashed the cop a grin before revving his engine and speeding off into the dusk, leaving a faint plume of smoke in its wake.

Kayleigh blinked, standing alone on the sidewalk, noticing the ticket book in her hand. She tried recollecting the last ten minutes, but a blurry haze greeted her. She slipped the ticket book back in her pocket. As she walked down the street with a sultry swagger, she couldn’t help but feel a lingering wrongness about everything. She knew something was wrong; she knew everything was wrong. However, she couldn’t quite put her finger on how or why. With an uneasy shrug, she turned back towards the precinct.

❖

Officer Kaylee Sux tottered out of the women’s changing room into the empty precinct lobby. She wore her navy bikini top and g-string bottoms, the same humiliating outfit Peter Jennings had left for her last month. The bikini barely covered her transformed body, her E-cup tits bouncing in their cups, her barbell piercings protruding through the thin material. Her silver navel piercing decorated the slutty cop’s slim waist, and the g-string did nothing to cover the huge ass below.

Navy blue fishnet stockings adorned her sexy legs, the hem stopping short at her mid-thigh. She balanced on a pair of blue 5-inch stiletto heels. Her platinum blonde hair bounced perfectly with each stride, and Kaylee absently licked her thick lips as she approached the station exit.

A high-pitched giggle escaped Kaylee’s glossy pink lips as she swayed toward the door; she couldn’t wait to help the hunky boys out there and serve the public. However, a gruff voice halted her before she could reach the exit door. “Sachs, in my office now.” The blonde bimbo blinked in confusion. Was he talking to her? Captain Robert Malone sighed and corrected himself. “Sux, get in here now.”

Kaylee giggled at the mention of her name. “Like, of course, Captain,” she said with a playful lilt before strutting towards the Captain and following him into the older man’s office.

Captain Malone closed the door behind her, his eyes lingering on her bare asscheeks as the blonde oblivious teetered into the man’s small office. He gestured for Kaylee to take a seat, sliding a hand through his graying hair before sitting in his own plush chair. The man’s stern eyes softened slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he took in his officer’s bikini-clad form.

“We’ve got a problem, Sux,” he said with professional measurement. “I’ve received the third complaint this morning about you patrolling the streets in… that getup.” He paused momentarily. “It’s causing a stir amongst the public, and it seems like they don’t appreciate your uniform the way we do.”

Kaylee stared at him with confusion; it was always difficult to follow conversations these days. “Umm, so, like, what does that mean, sir?” She asked him as she twirled a loose strand of blonde hair with her long, pink nail.

Captain Malone cleared his throat. “Uhm, it means I can’t have you patrolling the streets anymore, Kaylee.” His comment prompted a comical, silly pout from the bimbo officer.

Kaylee’s huge O-shaped lips jutted out further, her tattooed eyebrows somehow arching even higher as she whined. “Like, oh my gosh, Captain. That’s, like, so totally unfair!” Her new valley-girl dialect echoed around the room. “I’m, like, super-duper good at helping people, ya know?”

Malone leaned forward, his smile widening, his eyes tracing her barely-there outfit. “Don’t worry; you’re still valuable to this precinct,” he said with a soft, reassuring tone. “That’s why I’m reassigning you.” The older man slid a polished badge across the desk. The badge looked identical to her current badge, except it was engraved with the words ‘Precinct Morale Officer’. “And I gotta say, that uniform’s perfect for your new role. It really suits you.”

Office Sux’s pout flipped into a dazzling pouty smile, a giggle bursting out as she snatched the back, her pink nails clicking against its surface. “Ohh, wow, Captain. That, like, sounds like a promotion and stuff.” She squealed, pinning the badge to the side of her heaving cups. She looked like a cartoonish strippergram. “Thank you, like, a gazillion times. I totally won’t let you down,” she squealed with glee.

Captain Malone nodded, trying to hide his amused smirk. “You’re welcome, Sux,” he said. “Now, get to the break room. That’s your new base of operations.” He looked her up and down once more, in disbelief that this was the same stuffy pain in the ass he had mistakenly recruited. “I’m sure the boys will be thrilled to see you.”

Kaylee clapped her hands and stood up, her 5-inch stilettos wobbling slightly as the woman was still getting used to her new style. She strutted over to the Captain, bending at the waist, and gave the man a big kiss on the cheek. “I’m gonna make, like, everyone so happy, Sir,” she told him.

Captain Malone chuckled. “Ohh, I know you will, Kaylee,” he said smugly before smacking the blonde on the ass. “Now, get to work.” His smack elicited a gasp from his bimbo officer, and his command prompted her to strut towards the office door and get to work in her new role.

The Captain grinned as he watched the slutty woman leave. He had caved into corporate pressure when he hired Kayleigh Sachs, but he was glad it all worked out in the end; the boys were going to love their new toy.

❖

A week later, Kaylee Sux was heard screaming in pleasure inside the precinct break room. She was naked, her bikini scattered on the floor, her 5-inch blue stilettos the only remnants of her ‘uniform’ still on her body.

Peter Jennings fucker her hard from behind, his stocky frame slamming against her bubble butt as his cock pushed back and forth inside the bimbo officer’s needy pussy. Kaylee was positioned on a low table on her hands and knees, explicitly built for this exact purpose.

Officer John Mason stood before her, looping his belt around Kaylee’s neck as a mock collar and leash. He pulled tautly, temporarily withholding her air as his cock thrusted into her pouty mouth.

Kaylee’s E-cup tits bounced wildly below her, the silver barbell piercings occasionally catching on the soft table. Her platinum blonde hair flowed flawlessly, looking perfect despite her hours of fucking and sucking. A handful of officers lounged nearby, watching the bimbo getting spit-roasted, watching with humored grins as they recovered from their own turns with the Precinct Morale Officer.

Peter’s grip tightened on Kaylee’s hips, his voice a rough snarl of triumph. “Time for a new piece of your uniform, slut,” he said before presenting a silver metal princess plug with a pink jewel and sliding it easily into the bimbo officer’s accommodating ass. The cool sensation of the metal entering her prompted Kaylee to squeal around Mason’s cock, her high-pitched moan muffled. “Perfect for a little bitch like you,” he added, reveling in her downfall.

Mason groaned, yanking the belt-leash tighter, his thrusts quickening as he neared his peak. “Fuck, you’re a good little toy,” he mocked before holding the back of her head and finishing inside Kaylee’s bimbo mouth. Kaylee swallowed her eighth load of the morning; rings of her freshly painted pink lips colored the base of Mason’s cock. After the bimbo licked him clean, Mason stepped back and zipped up his pants. He stared down at the exaggerated bimbo with a satisfied smirk, leaving Kaylee panting on the table, her body rocking with Peter’s relentless rhythm.

The break room door swung open, and a mysterious man with bright orange hair, a strong chiseled jaw, and black sunglasses strode in wearing a charcoal-gray suit. The lounging officers froze, their grins fading as one of them reached for his firearm. “Clear the room,” Peter commanded, to his comrades’ surprise. After a moment of confused silence, the men began shuffling out of the break room one by one as Peter continued to fuck the doll.

Peter’s thrusts continued before he parted his lips and groaned out in ecstasy as a final, deep push was enough to finish him off. He relentlessly came inside the bimbo’s pussy. After several weak thrusts to ensure he had fully finished, the male officer pulled out and zipped himself back up.

He turned to the orange-haired man with a wide smirk and shook the mysterious man’s hand. He pulled five crisp $100 bills from his pocket and handed them to Anon. “She was worth every penny,” he said as the pair exchanged the cash. “Thanks for fixing Kayleigh, man. She was insufferable, but now she’s a real asset to the community.” He commented, patting the bimbo’s lower back.

Anon Emous pocketed the $500, his lips curling into a chilling grin as he gazed at Kaylee, still sprawled on the table, the silver princess plug’s pink jewel sparkling in her ass. “Yes, she’s my best work,” he said authoritatively, his voice dripping with pride. “She’s become a flawless bimbo, crafted to perfection.” His sunglasses-covered eyes lingered on the woman. Kaylee giggled, she had no idea what the two hunky men were talking about, but she was sure it was funny.

Peter chuckled and looked down at the panting bimbo on her hands and knees with cum leaking from her orifices. As he glanced back up, he was caught by a flash of red. The mysterious man had removed his sunglasses and stared deeply into Officer Jennings’s eyes. Peter couldn’t turn away and soon stared vacantly in a deep trance.

“I’m taking the bimbo with me,” Anon Emous declared. His words immediately rang true. “But this precinct will need a new Precinct Morale Officer. As there are no other women working here, you will have to take the role.” A devious grin crossed the orange-haired man’s lips. “You will do whatever it takes to transform yourself into the perfect Precinct Morale Officer, just like Kaylee. Won’t you?”

Peter’s eyes remained glazed. His nod was slow and mechanical as the man’s words burrowed deep in his mind, reshaping his will with chilling precision. Anon’s grin widened as he slid his sunglasses back on, the red glow vanishing as Peter blinked in confusion.

The orange-haired man helped Kaylee from the kneeling table, eliciting a giggle from the naked, busty blonde bimbo, her hair flawlessly framing her heavily made-up face. “Come, doll. Let’s get out of here.” She giggled again as the commanding British man spoke, allowing him to lead her out of the room, feeling his hand rest possessively on her freshly plugged ass.

Peter stared in bemusement. What had just happened? Wasn’t Kaylee his? No, that can’t be right; she belonged to the man. He glanced down at his standard-issue uniform and suddenly felt uncomfortable. A lingering doubt echoed in his mind. Why was he a police officer? Perhaps a new role would suit him better. His thoughts raced inside his head as he watched the blonde bimbo follow her new Master around the corner.

The End