Alicia squinted into the tiny mirror taped to the back of her locker and checked herself out for like the millionth time. She was well into her twenties already and it was embarrassing; no matter how she scrunched herself up she couldn't fill a bra. She still wore plain white cotton 'trainers', the smallest possible size intended for teenagers, the sort purchased by a proud mother for a growing daughter.
Underwire or push-up? What a joke. She didn't have any choice; it was elastic every time. She would live braless if she could but it was part of the uniform code and she'd get into trouble if she turned up for work improperly dressed.
The funny thing was, the reason she had this job being a cop was really the fault of the other girls when she was at school. As the others developed, the bullying she had received for not maturing at the same rate as them had been relentless. While they were all busy bulging out in the right places, she remained like an ironing board. Her nipples grew slightly puffy but that was it; they picked on anyone who was different, and in this case it meant that they called her names like 'Degs'. Which was short for 'fried eggs'.
They tormented her endlessly right until that fine day when they all finished at that damned establishment to go their separate ways and she never had to speak to them again. Proms and high-school reunions? Not a chance. Fuck the lot of them.
On an impulse, armed with a sense of injustice and a vague desire to stand up for the victims of the world, she joined the police. It was to the astonishment of her family, nobody else they knew had ever been a cop but despite their reservations she enjoyed it. There was some physical exercise, plenty of camaraderie and some classroom training that wasn't too hard for a bright lass.
However the fact remained that if it hadn't been for her treatment by the bullies she would have chosen a different way of life altogether. Such as? She had no real idea; she was athletic but certainly not talented enough in any particular sport to make a living from it, and she couldn't see herself in an office doing the same thing over endlessly. The standard female careers of hairdressing, nursing or teaching didn't appeal, actually the last option meant entering a school yard again, and that thought cast a dark shadow over her brain.
Here in 'the job' there were no more back-biting comments, she was part of the gang and it was fun. She kept her hair short and her fitness up, which she always enjoyed but now without that feeling of dread knowing that she would soon have to expose herself to the other girls in the showers.
Plus there were even some nice guys on the shift who were unattached and cute. But none of them ever hit on her, their status remained firmly eye-candy. She sometimes overheard their conversations and when they discussed ladies, they spoke of those who had breasts. Whether they had large, huge, massive, perky, bouncy, pendulous or jiggling breasts. But never tiny to the point of non-existent breasts.
There was another policewoman on the shift; they gossiped about her. But she had boobs that stretched the buttons on her uniform shirt to the point of bursting and it wasn't too difficult to catch a glimpse of white lace through the gaps. However when Alicia overheard anyone talking about herself it was about an arrest she had made, how she had chased a crook down and overpowered him, about some law that she'd enforced that they'd never been able to understand.
So she picked up the miserably unimpressive garment, looped it over her head and pulled it down over her shoulders. The elastic material stretched over her ribs but inevitably there was still fresh air between fabric and skin where it counted. Perhaps she should get a set of plastic tits like the rest of the under-endowed.
But she couldn't. That would be expensive and she didn't have the spare cash on her salary. With a sigh, she always did -- folded up some squares of tissue paper and pushed them in as padding.
She looked down at her legs; they were her best feature. Long and muscular, made for running. She was built like an Olympic pole vaulter, all legs and ass. She bent over, smoothing her skin as far as her ankles. It felt good, with firm muscles without any flab. The regular exercise she was doing was effective; runs around the streets in the evening followed by workouts alone in her room. For a moment as she was doubled over she imagined being taken from behind in the standing position, breasts wobbling with a rhythmic pounding. But it was a fantasy; her breasts never wobbled and it had been too long since she had been bent over like that. Being banged like a screen door in a hurricane was for others, not her.
She stood upright again, the mirror was small and dirty; it could do with a good wipe but it was on the rear of her locker and difficult to reach. Studying a smudge of something yucky in the corner, she caught something, possibly a movement behind her.
She spun around, but there was nobody there. There could have been though, there was no real privacy in the locker room. It was a small station and the men shared the space, just with different aisles providing an illusion of seclusion. An honour system; it was never really intended as somewhere to get changed, just storage of a few personal items. She had taken the risk many times before and if anyone ever walked in they just apologised and waited a moment for her to get decent again. They never even paused to leer, or even a quick second look over their shoulder. They looked at the other policewoman though when they caught her unexpected, making her blush and giggle.
She'd walked in on nearly all the guys in similar states of undress during her time there. They mostly wore tight shorts that emphasised their bulges, others wore loose boxers. Some had been startled when they saw her there, clutching for their trousers or whatever was closest for modesty. But most just carried on unconcerned, sucking in their stomachs in case she was looking -- and she was.
But she wasn't always concentrating on the headline bulge. That was the shop window, of course, however the quality of the merchandise was in a narrow pair of hips and a strong ass that could thrust like a Saturn 5 rocket. A couple of the guys were gym-monkeys and would have sufficed very nicely. Never mind the nail; look at the hammer, as the saying went.
She fastened her shirt which was tightly fitted to show off her taut stomach and grabbed her uniform trousers. You couldn't make out her six-pack when she was on patrol but she knew it was there, it was her bit of vanity. At least the baggy combats were flattering on her athletic build when she wore them low-slung on her hips; the girls who carried weight on their bums looked dreadful in them.
As usual she wore cute boy-short panties underneath, comfortable on a long night shift and modest if disaster happened. She could hear her Grandma saying now, "Make sure you have clean undies on in case you get hit by a bus", although she was fairly sure that anyone who was seriously hit by a bus would quickly find they were wearing dirty undies so there wasn't much point in worrying about it. She tucked her shirt in and cinched up the belt, then laced up the shiny black boots to complete the ensemble; Alicia was ready for patrol.
* * *
The shift didn't go as expected. Once everyone was assembled in the briefing room, the sergeant announced that they were to mount a surprise raid on a licenced club apparently operated by some local gangsters. Everyone was told about their allocated roles; one disappointed officer was delegated to look after the traffic and parking outside while another was given the 'big key', the red-painted door ram tool. Others were handed clipboards with questionnaires, but Alicia was left to the end. She was starting to wonder if she would have a job at all, but at last she was told that she had the star role. Her job was to arrest the head protagonist and she was given a photograph of him to ensure that she would recognise him in any melee.
It surprised her, she had expected the boss to grab that piece of glory. But no, it was for her. So when they arrived at the scene, coasting silently with engines off and leaving doors ajar to avoid the slamming noise, the first squad with the 'big key' forced entry, the second batch streamed in to secure every room and Alicia stood back until the shouts of 'Clear!' died down.
When she walked in she found the man surrounded by several of his friends. With all eyes watching her expectantly, she approached him with a display of confidence that she didn't quiet feel inside. He was overweight but she knew that he had a history of aggression and violence was always close to the surface. There had been rumours of killings and sickening tortures of rivals in crime, but there were never any official complaints made. There were never likely to be any either.
She placed her hand on his shoulder, announced in a loud clear voice to the entire room that he was under arrest and read him his rights. The man looked deflated and didn't object when she handcuffed him and led him away to the transport van.
Back in the station, Alicia was congratulated by the Inspector on her performance. She asked him why she had been given the task and he explained that if one of the male officers had tried to arrest him, he would have kicked off, fighting to the end. But it was dishonourable for him to assault a woman in front of his friends, so he had had to submit to the lesser humiliation of being taken into custody.
Alicia had enjoyed the operation, being the centre of attention and having the opportunity to see how such raids were conducted. It was fascinating how there had been many officers involved whom she hadn't seen before, some in interview teams, some forensic search officers, some with video cameras, others who stood back and watched. Then at the end of the day it was announced that if anyone wanted to meet at a bar in town, the first drink would be paid for by the boss so naturally everyone changed out of uniform and headed there. Luckily Alicia had a decent top and a prettier bra handy in her locker for such emergencies, the bra was a size larger than normal so needed a few more sheets of crumpled paper to fill.
Alicia found herself talking to a detective who had been one of those in an interview team. After several drinks she found herself leaving the bar with him and being invited back to his place. She was still buzzing with excitement and the thought of a one-night stand was appealing, the perfect finish to a good day at the office.
The man's apartment was scruffy with some unwashed plates on a table and a couple of unironed shirts draped over a chair but she wasn't there for the décor, soon she was in a drunken embrace. He unbuttoned her top and then slid his hand inside her bra to fondle her boob.
