Stripped of Her Badge Ch. 06

(This story is posted on the Literotica website. Do not repost anywhere else without the author's consent. This story is a bit different from my usual fare. To be clear, this is a story where the woman cheats on her man. But a lot of my usual themes are present. There is betrayal, seduction, and heartbreak. It features huge tits and big cocks. And don't expect a happy ending. This is a story about cops and criminals... such stories aren't always pretty. The good characters have shades of darkness, and the bad have shades of appeal. One other thing to point out, as it has come up from time to time, the villain of this story is quite arrogant. Over the years, I've noticed some readers bristle at characters like that, so be warned. If you don't enjoy stories featuring arrogant antagonists, this story won't be for you. So, for those who think they can handle a story like this, go forward.

Additionally, this story is a LONG one, even for me. You have my permission to skip around if you don't want to get too in the weeds. This story is a slow-burn over multiple chapters that ratchets up the tension until it explodes. Not every chapter features sex, but there are heated moments throughout that build up to the main event. If that doesn't sound like your cup of tea, just don't say you weren't warned.)

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If Detective Monica Palmer was willing to go through with this, to face off with her tormentor, to descend to his level, to go one-on-one with David Delvecchio in their final confrontation, she would have to confront someone else first.

Herself.

Her past.

There would be no point denying it for much longer. The truth would come out shortly. And if she was going to approach David in this fashion, it required her to open up the vault, uncover a secret that she'd done everything in her power to keep buried, and come clean about one of the biggest pieces of gossip. that had dogged her for most of her career.

The rumors... they were true.

Early on in Monica's career, she had indeed worked undercover at a strip club.

She wasn't ashamed of it. In fact, she was proud of the work she'd done. But it was the experience of it, the things she learned, not just of that world, or of the Port Metro Police Department, but of herself. That's what stuck with her. That's what made it an experience she had to bury deep in her subconscious for over ten years.

And now, the vault was open, and those memories were flooding her system.

When Monica first joined the police force more than a decade ago, her captain at the time took one look at her and his eyes lit up with possibilities. She was quickly sent undercover as part of an ongoing operation trying to uncover a drug ring, a ring which was supposedly based out of a strip club, Diamond Dreams. Even though Monica was uncomfortable with the prospect of working at a strip club undercover, she was so eager to prove herself that she accepted the assignment. The job wasn't supposed to last very long, but it ended up taking months. As someone who was not exactly outgoing in terms of showing off her body, suddenly being put in this position was a bit jarring, to say the least. She wasn't ready for it, and she had no skill at it, but that fit the role she was playing: a small-town girl who'd just moved to the big city and was looking to make some money. A naïve young woman who was untrained but had all the potential in the world. Despite some initial jealousy from the other dancers due to her intense good looks and incredible body, Monica played the part well enough that eventually the other girls warmed up to her. Some even helped guide her and mentor her, giving her tips and helping to train her as a dancer.

Monica was in good shape and athletic, but she'd never had an affinity for dancing. She just didn't have a natural sense of rhythm, and expressing herself with her body seemed... unnatural. Combined with the fact that she was shy about putting her insane body on display, she was immediately met with a steep learning curve. But Monica and the women around her quickly realized she had an aptitude for stripping. Just the slightest amount of training worked wonders. At the time, even though she came to this occupation reluctantly, she was eager to please, eager to do the job well, and once she dedicated herself to improving her skills, she became incredible. She quickly learned to work the pole like she'd been doing it for years. Her athletic nature helped as she spun and climbed up the pole, hanging upside down with her legs locked around it, writhing and thrusting against it like a cowgirl on a bull. She learned how to highlight her body just right to earn the biggest response and the most money from the crowds that gathered to watch her, hooting and hollering and whistling through their teeth. She learned how to dance. She learned how to take off her clothes. She learned how to swallow her fears and bare herself for a crowd of drooling men.

Monica became the club's star dancer.

She had IT. She was a natural. She was a star. She could move. She could work it. And God knows she had the body for it. Even though she was a rookie, she soon eclipsed all the other girls, becoming the headliner over the course of the investigation. For Monica, who'd long denied the attention her body could earn her, keeping it under wraps and zipped up tight, there was something undeniably therapeutic about just baring it all and being rewarded for it, the crowd's rapturous response a thrill unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Also... working in a man's world as a woman, with her skills and accomplishments being constantly undermined... It was nice just for once to be rewarded for being good at something. Monica had never considered herself desperate for validation, but her stage act satisfied a deep craving, baring every inch of her naked flesh for a crowd of adoring men. Dressed up in slutty outfits, her face glowing with makeup, her hair expertly styled, being treated in almost worshipful fashion... she felt like a star.

Despite her meteoric rise, Monica found the other dancers to be warm, friendly, and welcoming. Instead of being jealous, these girls recognized her own undeniable star power, and they supported her rather than trying to tear her down. As strange as it was to admit, there was a sort of sisterhood that formed between herself and the other women that worked at that club. A bond. Monica had never had a lot of female friends, and she was surprised at how quickly she'd gained them by becoming this different version of herself. Even knowing it was based on a falsehood, a deception, a lie... it was just nice to feel so loved. Not just by her fellow dancers, but by the patrons.

She got damn fucking good at the job. She headlined on the main stage night after night, and she was soon the most requested girl for private dances, bringing in thousands of dollars in an average evening. For someone like her, who was shockingly inexperienced with the opposite sex, she was thrown into the deep end, but the whole experience was a crash-course that she adapted to quickly, learning how to tease men in close quarters, giving them just enough to drive them crazy and earn heaps of cash. She learned skills from her friends, weaponizing her body in all the best ways, putting men on edge, making them desperate for her. It wasn't hard.

Monica was making a stupid amount of money every shift she worked. She made more in a week at the club just in tips than she got on her monthly paycheck from the Port Metro Police Department. But instead of hoarding it for herself, she brought in some of the other girls alongside her to split the profits, wanting to pay it back to them for all their help. That way she didn't have to report the earnings to her captain. And in exchange, she got included in her new friends' social circles. She truly became one of them.

Earning her place and maintaining her cover required many moral compromises on her own part in order to fit in. She partied with her fellow dancers. She drank. She even did drugs in order to prove herself to them, and for someone who rarely partook in anything that prevented her from being clear-headed, it quickly became clear how people could get hooked on the stuff. The rush the cocaine gave her was like nothing else, and she couldn't deny that she'd never looked better during the period she was partying in this way, the drugs erasing any of the softer edges of her appearance, turning her body into a sleek, taut sports car, a high-end machine built solely for sex. Sometimes she even went on stage high, and it only amplified the rock-star feeling she got under the club lights, the pumping bass matching her pounding heartbeat. She felt like she was floating in those moments. She felt free.

But she never lost control. Not really.

She soon learned some of the other girls made extra money on the side, "partying" with patrons with fat wallets, the ones that were willing to pay top dollar. The pipeline from dancing to escort work was a natural part of their industry. Most of the girls accepted it. On this, Monica drew the line. She never slept with any man she danced for at the club, despite many, many offers. Not only was it a moral line she couldn't cross, but it felt best for business. If she was a top dancer, she couldn't just be giving it away at every opportunity. She had to retain some mystique. Some control.

The other girls looked out for her, supporting her choice not to dive all the way into this lifestyle, shielding her from the true dangers of the job. Not only from the leering men who frequented the club and continually tried to push their luck with her, but from the high-rollers as well. Rich, powerful men who'd swoop in, drop serious cash, and promise the world to a girl who caught their eye, attempting to lure naïve women into their web. They weren't like the patrons they "partied" with... those men they could handle just fine. But these high-rollers were a step beyond. Men who were beyond wealthy, who could get whatever they wanted. Men who commodified women, treating them like objects, giving them the high-life... at least, until they got bored and moved on to the next sexy creature who caught their eye, leaving those first girls in the dust.

At the time, Monica was riding the high of being the headliner, the center of attention, to such a degree that she found herself playing along with these powerful men, not recognizing that they were wolves hungry for a fresh piece of meat. In the headspace she was in at the time, their praise of her appeal and the big promises of stardom and luxury really resonated with her, as did the obscene amount of money they were flashing her, enough to change any girl's mind. It was all silly, since this was well beyond the scope of her mission, but Monica found herself playing along with them, purely out of naked curiosity. And perhaps she was a little lost in the role she was inhabiting, but Monica quickly understood why these men were so successful with a certain type of naïve woman, and how so many others before her had fallen under their sway. Luckily, Monica's fellow dancers rescued her before she got in over her head, pulling her away, explaining how these men would use up girls like them, luring them with offers of modeling gigs, offering them money, fame, and exposure. They did this while not disclosing the fact that these modeling offers rarely ended up being mainstream as promised, and often ended up being VERY pornographic. While Monica was confident she wouldn't have ever let things go nearly that far, the fact that the other dancers bailed her out filled her with warmth. The other girls treated Monica like she was one of them, and this only further aided her with her undercover assignment, helping her maintain her cover while also making her comfortable enough to really throw herself into role, knowing she had this extra layer of protection.

Monica couldn't deny that she enjoyed her time undercover dancing at the club. Not just the sisterhood of the fellow dancers, but the performance of it. The excitement of it. Dancing on stage, being the center of attention, baring the goods not for a man she cared about, but for money, for men who paid for the privilege to stare at her. It went against every code in her book, yet... it awakened something in her, a side of her personality that she still hadn't fully reckoned with. It truly was a rush like nothing else. There was a part of her that could have surrendered right then... retired from the force and gone into dancing full-time, and she would have made a well-paying career out of it, certainly more money than she made being a cop. She could have coasted through the last 15 years on nothing but the appeal of her incredible body. She could have devoted herself to that rush of pleasure she got every time she bared it all on stage and showed men the goods, shaking her tits, wagging her ass. There was a side of her that felt drawn to this destiny, the lure of the pole as David had called it, and if she'd done it for much longer than she had to, that part of her would have become harder to deny over time.

This point in her career represented a choosing between two paths... and she'd come dangerously close to becoming a full-on bimbo.

But she was too responsible, too devoted to justice to ever abandon her law enforcement career so recklessly. She never once forgot why she was there, keeping her eye on the ball. She rooted out the drug-ring she'd been sent in to uncover (after sampling the goods at a number of raucous afterparties in order to further her cover), and she passed the details of the operation up her chain of command. A date was set for the sting operation that would bring the traffickers down. But in the time between when she passed along the incriminating information, and the planned date for the sting, she noticed something that had stuck with her and stole some of the idealism she once felt for her job. She suddenly started to see people she recognized in the audience. Fellow cops. Not part of any operation, just spectators. It was almost as if they were there to catch a glimpse of the show just before it was ending. They weren't going to miss the chance to see that cute rookie Monica Palmer naked.

So, she danced and bared it all for her own coworkers, seeing no way to avoid it without blowing her cover. She even caught her captain there the night before the sting, grinning up at her from a table near the stage while he sipped his drink, one of the other dancers sitting on his lap, trying to sell him a dance. This took the wind out of the sails for Monica. In that moment, she realized she couldn't have it both ways. She couldn't ever use her looks to get ahead again, because it didn't give her the power she thought it did. Instead, it only gave men the power. Men like her captain and the other cops in her department would just reduce her to a piece of meat, no matter how crucial her undercover work had been to the eventual drug bust. This was a major case she'd worked for months to bring home, sacrificing her dignity in the process. But what really mattered to her own brothers on the force was missing out on the chance to see her glorious, naked breasts. That's all she was to them. In this moment, Monica had to champion herself and her reputation. She had to either be a cop, or a woman. She had to prioritize one in order to move on, so she chose the former.

The sting went down successfully, one of the biggest drug busts in Port Metro history. The club owner and a number of associates were brought to justice. Monica earned a commendation, a bonus, and a promotion that allowed her to transfer out of the vice unit. But despite all this, she knew her fellow dancers felt betrayed by the revelation that Monica had been a cop all along, playing them for fools. Even worse, the club had to be shut down, putting her "sisters" out of work and hard up for their next paycheck. Despite Monica's devotion to law enforcement and justice, she felt how hurt her friends were. One of them, a dancer who wound up serving a short prison sentence as an accomplice to the drug trafficking operation, spotted Monica in court at her sentencing and shouted at her: "You chose the wrong side!"

Her words haunted Monica for years. Soon afterwards, she transferred to a new precinct, unable to look any of the men she worked with in the eye. They'd all come to see her perform on stage. She heard their whispers and snickers behind her back, felt their eyes on her when she was turned away. In the years since, she would run into one of them every so often, and she still couldn't bear to look at them and see the way they stared at her.

But what hurt her the most, the feeling that cast a shadow over her for a long time, was missing the feeling of being on stage. The sensation of showing it all and having men stare at her, and being validated for it. The freedom of breaking the rules and indulging in drugs and partying and all sorts of bad behavior. That part of her was still there to this day, never fully fading away. She couldn't ignore this wild period of her life, the excitement so profound, especially compared to her typically mundane day-to-day existence. Paperwork and reports. Busting low-level offenders. Working the same beat every shift.

Not long after she was promoted, she was assigned Joel as a partner, and she found a common cause with him, a kindred spirit. Nothing too exciting or world-changing. Just good, honest work with a good, honest man. She relaxed into it, settling for a less exciting work-life and the comfort of this close relationship with a man she sensed she could trust. Every so often, though, a long-forgotten part of her would get worked up again, and Monica was forced to confront the yearning she felt for her days working the pole. The allure of that bimbo personality, the woman she'd almost become... She always tamped this dark side down, silencing it, shutting it down until it went away. For years, she'd had few issues suppressing that side of her. No one even knew it was there, so no one could attempt to coax that side of her back to the surface.

No one, that is... until she met David.

Over the weeks and months of this investigation, he'd awakened that side of her, stirring it from its coma, upsetting the perfectly maintained balance of her daily life. The side of her that enjoyed taking off her clothes, inviting men to stare at her, indulging her darkest desires... David seemed to see right through the identity Monica had cultivated, the seasoned detective, the stone-cold bitch, the ice queen... He saw only the bimbo within, and proved very capable of bringing her to the surface, despite Monica's best efforts. Only David could have forced Monica to revisit her past in this fashion. Only David could have forced the issue. Only David could have brought this whole battle of wills between them to this point, where he was poised to live out his fantasy and get everything he wanted.

But if Monica got her way, it would never reach that point.

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Evening had fallen on Port Metro by the time Monica left her apartment. She waited in her building's lobby until she saw the van pull up on the street outside, and after checking to make sure there was a gap in pedestrians walking down the sidewalk, she quickly strode outside.

She was wearing a long black coat, falling down past her knees, buttoned up to cover as much of her body as possible. The only glimpse of what was hidden beneath the coat were the black, leather, high-heeled boots she was wearing. They weren't practical. They weren't comfortable. But for the job at hand, they were required. She slunk towards the van, the side-panel door sliding open to welcome her. She nodded to the people inside and slid in, then the door slammed shut behind her and the van set off, beginning the crosstown drive toward the Tiger Lily Club.

The crew in the back of the van with her comprised the surveillance team. Monica had wanted people she could trust on this op, especially with such a... sensitive job. And, at her request, she was working with a few other female officers. The 8th precinct could be such a boy's club at times... She didn't want to give some of the male officers who'd been ogling her for years a chance to score a primo view of her body. She would rather work with professionals, who wouldn't brag to their friends later about how much they'd seen of the acclaimed Monica Palmer. Luckily, there was one woman who worked on the surveillance squad, so she headed the group. They had to pull in another officer from a different department, who had some history in this kind of work, to assist them. The only man on the team was the driver, so he wouldn't be privy to the awkward moments she knew lay ahead.

They had to weave their way from Monica's place in the Corners all the way downtown to reach Tiger Lily, so Monica was banking on having a lot of time to mentally prepare herself. But the drive went by in a flash, and before she knew it, they were pulling into a spot just up the street from David's premier strip club, one of many he managed throughout the city. And when the van shifted into park with a jerk, Monica felt a pit in her stomach. Even someone as ice-cold as the detective was getting nervous. Luckily, one of the other cops there, Ramirez, was a welcome presence, talking casually to her, girl-to-girl, as she wired Monica with a mic and tested the audio. Monica opened her coat so Ramirez could get the wire in place on her inner clothing, which was made easier due to the theme of her... outfit. In doing so, it was Ramirez who got the best view of Monica as she exposed a part of what she was wearing during this process, but the other officer was mature, chill, and understanding as she helped the detective work herself up for the night ahead. Finally, there was nothing left to do to. Monica was as prepared as she could be, and she knew that drawing this out anymore would make only it worse. She was as anxious as she'd ever been, and she was playing out every way this could go wrong in her head as Ramirez pulled open the van door for her.

It was time.

As she stepped out onto the street, Monica turned back to face the van. There were a lot of things she wanted to say, and a lot of things she'd been going over in her mind the whole ride over, but the most pressing thing was what ended up on her lips.

"Look," she began. "I'm not walking into a life-or-death situation here. I'm confident in that. So... if the audio cuts out, or if anything goes wrong, the last thing I want is for you to bust in there and pull me out. I only want to do this once. So let me get it done. Trust that I will get it done, even if I'm on my own." The cops in the van nodded one by one, deferring to the opinion of the seasoned detective, even though they both knew this was an unusual request.

Monica crossed the street, long coat fluttering around her knees, her heels clicking on the pavement. She had an earpiece in that was almost invisible, and as she marched closer to the club, she checked the audio with her counterparts in the van, testing the levels, making sure it was working. She heard Ramirez's voice in her ear, comforting and calm. With that taken care of, there was nothing stopping her from meeting her fate.

She was both nervous and excited as she approached the club, breathing deep and psyching herself up. Monica never thought it would come to this. She recalled her friend Sandra's words when they talked in the restaurant, after her run-in with David. For a case like this, with the type of people she was dealing with, she had to be willing to go further than ever before to take them down.

This was Detective Monica Palmer doing just that.

As she approached the front of the club, she saw a familiar face. She recognized the huge bouncer manning the door from her first visit to the club. He clearly recognized her as well, as he smiled and shook his head when he saw her approaching dressed in the conspicuous manner she was.

"Detective," the huge bouncer said cordially. "Is this... official police business?"

"Tell David I'm here," she said flatly. Monica gave him an insistent look, conveying clearly that she just wanted to get inside and get this over with. She figured the guard would have been told to expect her, so she didn't have to say any more. The bouncer radioed it in, and a moment later he nodded at her to follow him inside, turning and pushing the door open, another equally massive bouncer stepping out to take his post.

She stepped inside Tiger Lily for the second time. But the last time she had visited, with Joel, it had been the middle of the day. The club was quiet. Empty. It was a little different this time around.

The loud music hit her first, thumping bass reverberating through her body, vibrating under her feet, and it only got louder as they got deeper into club. The place was booming, a rowdy crowd filling the tables as they watched the girls performing. The room was big enough that there were three stages, a main catwalk in the middle, plus smaller platforms against each of the side walls. On the right side, Monica spotted a familiar face, a dancer she recognized. Her name was Bethany, and during Monica's first visit to the club, she was the one who had interrupted their meeting to get David's opinion on her outfit. And clearly, she'd followed through on his suggestion, dancing energetically with her tits out and bouncing around, wearing only a pink thong as twirled around the pole. The men gathered around the stage watched her rapturously, hooting and whistling, tossing money at her in a show of appreciation.

On the left stage was another familiar face: Simone, the woman who'd been in the room with the mayor when he died. She was back to work, dancing completely naked. Monica remembered the way Simone had wept into her hands at the crime scene, and answered their questions back at the precinct. It was strange to see her in another context entirely. She looked good, with large double-D breasts and a shapely ass. And it was her ass that was drawing admirers at the moment, as she knelt on all fours, facing away from them, shaking her behind for her drooling admirers.

On the center stage was a woman Monica didn't know. A total stunner, Monica was quick to recognize the similarities between this woman and herself. Similar chestnut brown hair, similar plump lips, and a similarly excellent body. This woman had absolutely huge breasts, and her ass was unreal, firm, and juicy and utterly jaw-dropping. For a moment, Monica had the surreal feeling that she was watching herself on stage, which sent a pulse of excitement through her. There was a huge crowd surrounding the main stage, the main attraction. As her eyes lingered on the dancer, Monica couldn't help but compare herself to the woman on stage. She had big breasts, but Monica's were decidedly bigger and shapelier. She had a great rear-end, but it didn't compare to Monica's insane ass. That woman had a huge crowd watching her dancing center-stage, but if it was Monica up there, the crowd would be even more large, and more adoring. She was sure of it.

Monica shook this oddly prideful thought away as she was led across the main floor by her bouncer escort. Even though the detective was totally covered up by her coat, even though there was plenty of competition not only with the women on stage, but with the ones flitting back and forth with drink trays or selling private dances, Monica still earned some attention from the crowd. Men stared at her as she passed, some even asking her for a dance. But Monica kept her head down, following the bouncer deep into the club. As they crossed towards the far side of the room, the detective caught sight of David for the first time since their final meeting at the gym, and she couldn't deny that her heart started racing just being in his presence again. Memories of their morning workouts at the gym rose to the surface, her body remined of the increasing enjoyment she got out of dressing up for him day after day over the course of her doomed "undercover" operation. He was dressed well, an expensive looking gunmetal gray suit with a silky blue button-up underneath it. He was standing by the bar in a cordoned-off VIP section, chatting with a woman dressed in business suit, with a knee-length skirt and a blazer, her hair pulled back tight, wearing glasses, holding a folder, and looking upset as she discussed some very important matter with the younger man. As soon as Monica was in the vicinity, David seemed to sense her, his head turning away from the woman to look directly at Monica over his bouncer's shoulder. Laser focused on the detective, completely ignoring the woman next to him, he didn't look away from Monica as she was led towards him, savoring the sight of her, even wrapped in a featureless overcoat. Monica couldn't return the favor, not wanting to see the victory in his smug fucking gaze. But like most things with David, that moment was unavoidable, as once the bouncer handed her off to his boss, Monica had to look up and see his handsome face practically glowing with excitement.

"Detective!" he greeted her, grinning ear to ear. "What a surprise!" He shooed the other woman away with a lazy gesture, and she stomped off in frustration. The bouncer backed away as well, leaving her alone with David.

The bouncer gave his boss a knowing look before heading back to the front door, shaking his head as he disappeared into the crowd. He didn't know how David did it. But once he set his sights on a woman, he was undefeated in making them his. That cop didn't know what she was in for.

David basked in this moment of triumph, looking the detective up and down. Even though she was wearing this full-coverage coat, the promise of what she was wearing beneath it had his mind spinning with excitement. It was like Christmas morning, and he couldn't wait to unwrap his present.

On top of this, he noticed that she actually put in an effort in terms of makeup and hair. Her hair was lustrous and full, cascading in waves down her back, making her look like a model. The makeup around her sharp, piercing eyes made them really stand out, her lashes heavy and dark. And the smooth, light sheen of red lipstick made David's mind leap right into the gutter, imagining where on his body that lipstick would be smeared by the end of the night. Hell, even the sight of her blood-red nails turned him on, the knowledge that the bitchy detective had put in so much effort for him enough to drive him crazy.

Monica scowled as she looked up at David, watching him appraise her like a piece of meat, her impatience boiling over as he savored his victory.

"You got me here," she finally spat out. "Is this gonna happen or not? Because I'm about five seconds from walking back out that door..."

"No, you're not," David replied calmly, grinning, knowing that she wouldn't have come this far lightly, and she wouldn't give up at the first thing that rubbed her the wrong way. He started counting to five with his fingers, but she only noticed when he was at three. When he got to five and held up his open palm, demonstrating that her five-second window had passed, Monica just stood in place, scowling, not backing down as she had threatened to. He continued savoring his victory for a few more moments before speaking up. "It's nice to see you, Detective. I knew this moment was inevitable, but seeing you here... it's even better than I imagined." Monica rolled her eyes, unimpressed.

"Are you just going to..." Monica began, but for the first time, David looked away, looking at someone over Monica's shoulder and speaking out quickly.

"Hey Frankie! Watch the floor!" he ordered one of his underlings loudly, stepping towards Monica as he gave this command. Standing next to her, towering over her, he kept talking. "I'll be getting a dance from this one!" he said before planting a victorious smack on her ass. Monica jolted in place, heat radiating from where his palm had made contact, stinging even through the coat. Her body was tingling from this sudden violation of her person, and she scowled at him, staring daggers at the younger man.

"I told you not to do that," Monica growled angrily, her objection sounding far weaker than she expected. Why did that tingle have to be a good tingle? Why did it seem like he knew she'd react this way? She'd told him the last time he smacked her ass at the gym never to do it again, making her feelings on the matter very clear. Yet he did it again without fear, knowing she wouldn't be all THAT mad about it.

"I'm sorry," he replied. "Won't do it again... unless you ask!" he assured her, making her roll her eyes. He took a few steps up a nearby staircase before pausing, looking back at the detective as she stood frozen in place. "You coming?"

Monica sneered as she looked up at him. Part of her wanted to leave just to surprise him for once, and wipe that confident grin off his face. But she'd come this far... no point having done all this if she wasn't willing to take it all the way. Sighing heavily, deeply annoyed that it had actually come to this, she followed the younger man up the stairs. He quickly ascended to the second-floor balcony, and while the detective rarely wore heels this tall, she'd had to train herself to move in footwear like this when she'd gone undercover back in the day, and it had been etched into muscle memory, allowing her to keep up with David as he led her.

The second floor was a balcony that hugged the walls around most of the perimeter of the main room, allowing patrons to watch the dancers from above. It was a touch quieter and calmer than the main floor, but on a night like this, the tables were still filled with men watching the show. There were a few dancers sauntering between tables, swinging their hips, checking if any of the patrons wanted a private dance. To the side was another bouncer standing next to a door hung with a beaded curtain. Monica watched one of the patrolling dancers lead a man through the curtain and disappear. The bouncer eyed the man the stripper was leading inside, looking him over, judging whether or not he was a threat, but when David approached, the big, tough bouncer stepped to the side deferentially. The cop followed David through the beaded curtain.

She found herself in a long, dim corridor, lit from overhead by soft red lights. The music was still quite loud, and clearer without the distortion of the speakers downstairs and the screaming, whistling, hooting crowd. The hallway was lined with private nooks for dances. Inside she saw men sitting on lush, red leather couches, watching women gyrate and shimmy in front of them. She felt queasy at the sight. Monica wondered if this was the spot where it was gonna happen, but David kept moving. There was a closed door at the end of the hall, which he approached and opened up, nodding at her to follow. Once she passed through the doorway, the music finally died down, no speakers pumping directly into her ears anymore, the sound muffled by the walls. It was only as David led Monica through some smaller, cramped hallways that he spoke up.

"I've got my own personal private room. I only use it for special occasions," he mentioned, looking back at her with a smirk. "And this, Detective, is a VERY special occasion." Monica gave him a withering look, saying nothing as she kept following.

David threw open another door, leading Monica into a surprisingly large room. Monica was somewhat caught off guard by what she saw. It appeared to be a mini-production studio. There were a few fake bedrooms set up, and most of them were in use, with scantily-clad girls putting on a show. They each had cameras pointed directly at them, and behind those cameras were people at computer screens, producing the content and making sure everything was coming out well.

"When the girls aren't on stage, they can pick up work here for their digital platforms. It's all up to them, of course," David explained, answering Monica's unspoken questions. "We provide video production and editing services, a regular schedule, even audience moderation to weed out any problematic customers. Any help they need... for a price, of course. I want to make sure these girls are squeezing every last dime out of the customers that they can, and most of the money goes to them, but we do take a cut off the top. Some just talk, some perform solo shows, and some do full hardcore. All we do is provide them a stage to do their best work. And all perfectly legal, of course." Monica couldn't deny that this extensive set-up made a certain level of sense, in a perverse way. Despite her dislike of David, she was impressed by his business savvy. It was forward-thinking and an efficient way to maximize revenue by allowing the dancers with an online presence to shoot their content here, and David provided everything they needed to make as much money for themselves as possible. She couldn't say for sure if he was a good boss, but she could grudgingly admit that he seemed to look out for the dancers who worked for him. Her first impression of David was that he was an aloof playboy with no ambition, but that didn't seem fully accurate. The detective was about as impressed with him as a person as she'd ever allowed herself to be, but then he kept talking and ruined it. "And if tonight goes well, Detective, maybe you can start a side-hustle here. With that body, you could make a stupid amount of money! Haha!" Monica gave him a disgusted look, and he smiled cheerily in response. He'd always loved needling her like this, and he was getting quite good at it.

But this frustration faded as they kept moving across the expansive production bay. The music was getting quieter, and they left the beds, performers and video editors behind. As Monica continued to follow David deeper into his lair, she felt a pang of nervousness she rarely experienced. It wasn't just because she was willingly following David further into the behind-the-scenes recesses of his club, so deep as to make a quick escape unthinkable. She was more concerned about what would happen once they reached her destination. The moment of truth was still ahead of her. Monica's heart was beating through her chest, and the pressure inside her was building up as they approached that fateful moment.

They went through another door, turned a corner in the narrow hallway beyond, before approaching one final door. David slowed down, taking one last moment before pushing this door open.

It was like stepping back in time into some groovy bachelor pad from the 1970s, or the Playboy Mansion in its prime. Lit dimly, the walls were decorated in a gaudy, outdated fashion, lined with velvet colored dark fuchsia. But some of the furnishings adorning this room looked expensive, befitting a higher-end luxury strip-club like Tiger Lily. Against the far wall sat a broad, black leather couch, a throne meant to provide a guy like David enough space to sit down, spread out, and let a dancer do her thing with nothing in the way. In a nearby corner stood a shimmering stripper pole. Music was being piped in, a throbbing, sparse beat, easy music to move to. Mirrors ran all along one wall, and Monica wondered idly if they were two-way mirrors, like in the interrogation rooms back at the precinct. There could be someone watching her through that glass, and she wouldn't even know it. The thought reminded her of the interview room she'd once had David in, early in the investigation. At the time, he'd swiftly asserted control of the situation, and Joel and Monica's best efforts fell flat. This time, she hoped to flip the script on him, the same way he'd done with her. But she was on his territory now, and despite her deep dislike of this younger man, she had to respect the fact that he was no easy target. If she was gonna beat him, if she was gonna take him down, if her will was going to outlast his... she would have to earn it.

David swaggered to the other side of the room, dropping into the plush leather couch and sitting back. There was a bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket of ice on a small table beside him. Pouring two skinny flutes full of sparkling wine, he held out a fizzing glass to her as he sipped his own. This was already a fraught situation... she didn't need her judgment clouded in any way. So, she simply gave him a withering look as a response, until he got the message, setting the full glass back on the side table.

He tossed the rest of his drink back, before settling fully in the couch. Spreading his long arms along the back and spreading his legs, he wordlessly invited her to step closer. Monica stood in place, staring at him, not taking the bait, but he didn't flinch, instead meeting her steely gaze with a confident, unwavering stare. Finally, someone had to break the ice, and Monica didn't hesitate.

"We have a deal, right?" Monica asked. "If I do this, you talk." She wasn't even trying to play a character, or act like this was what she wanted to be doing. She retained the biting, jaded tone David was used to, and frankly, that made this even better, knowing what was about to happen next.

"I'll sing," David promised, smiling even as he barely hid his wolfish hunger at what he was about to bear witness to. Still, she didn't move, weighing her options. David didn't do anything, not wanting to push her away in this pivotal moment, sitting back and waiting as she took her time to decide.

Was she ready to go through with this?

He'd known from the start that Monica was sharp... you couldn't be a detective at her level without a keen intellect. David was relentlessly confident in himself, but he didn't put it past the experienced cop to have come up with some master plan that he hadn't anticipated. He'd let her into to his inner sanctum. He was alone. Unprotected. If she'd done the work, if she'd put in the type of policework she was known for, she could have found something that would put the pressure on him to talk. If she was the type of cop that her reputation suggested, maybe she would have strung him along to reach this exact point, only for some grand reveal that would make it clear she'd always had his number, and that he had no choice but to talk. And frankly, if Monica was about to do that, David would welcome being defeated by the smoke-show detective. He'd never met a woman like her before. So moral, so self-assured, so resolute... Playing the game with her had been a blast, and if he'd been outmaneuvered by a seasoned skilled police officer in the end, he'd shake her hand and admit defeat. In fact, he'd almost relish the fact that he'd been outplayed so expertly. He'd finally found a woman who could resist him... who could best him. Some small part of him almost hoped the hammer was about to drop, just so he'd finally encounter something new and unexpected.

But...

If she took off that coat, and she was dressed exactly like David expected... fuck! David could barely contain himself, he was so excited at the thought. If she was playing along with him like he thought she was, if Miss Ice Queen Super-Cop was actually poised to show him the goods... then it was game over. David had won. David had gotten in her head to such a degree that the next step... making her go all the way... would be a cakewalk.

She might have convinced herself that she'd be able to get through this unscathed. One little dance, and then she'd get David to talk afterwards. But deep down, she had to know it wouldn't actually turn out that way. She couldn't be THAT naïve, to think she could march in here and face off with him one-on-one and hope to resist the urge to give into him. She'd barely held herself back from surrendering to him at the gym, in public, in broad daylight. She had to know how this would go. She had to understand what would happen. She couldn't actually be trying this... right?

David knew the detective wanted him, even if she hadn't accepted that fact herself quite yet. A spark had ignited between them upon their first meeting, slowly catching and igniting a fire, and every encounter they'd had since had only added fuel to that fire. Even as she tried to find leverage over him to bring him down, she'd slowly grown to respect his prowess. When she tried to slap the smirk off his face, and he had to get physical with her... even then, she'd reacted positively to being restrained by the younger man. Even though she told him she didn't want to text with him, she'd also asked for more dirty details of his conquests and sent him selfies of her own. Despite her objections to working out with him at the gym, she clearly savored the moments when they shared extended, close, intimate contact. Part of her hated him even as she was drawn to him, and that led her to continually put herself in his presence. The moments in which she almost lost control were always the moments immediately after she'd put up guardrails, set boundaries, and laid down the law.

The law...

It's funny. Maybe years ago, when she was a bright-eyed, idealistic detective who believed in law, order, and justice, she'd have been able to maintain those boundaries. But over time, with her failure to make any serious inroads against the crime families, perhaps her respect for the barrier between right and wrong had been eroded just a bit. Maybe she'd been looking at the wrong side of the law with jealous eyes for some time, comparing it to the drudgery of failure she'd been saddled with. Maybe she wanted to be bad! And if she was craving a little bit of law-breaking, she had finally found that outlet with David. She wanted to run from him, even as she was simultaneously compelled by him. Drawn to him. She lost track of the number of times she'd said 'No,' even as she wanted to scream 'YES!' She tried to fight back even when she wanted to give in. She wanted nothing to do with him, but she desperately wanted him to fuck her brains out.

Monica was a woman of two minds... the cop, and the needy, horny bitch. Two paths, and both had led her here, to this place, this moment. A moment where she was letting David become the arbiter of her fate. She intended to prove she belonged on the side of the angels by dancing for the devil, but she didn't realize the compulsion to tempt her own dark side like this meant the battle for her soul was already decided. A seed of sin had been planted deep inside her, and it was waiting for the devil to work his magic and make it bloom. David certainly didn't view himself as the devil, but he was happy enough to wear the horns and do the devil's work... corrupting pure souls like the beautiful detective's.

This was all speculation... educated speculation, but speculation nonetheless. Monica was smart, and competent, so David almost couldn't believe she was seriously about to make such an unforced error. Was the detective seriously going forward with such a foolish, desperate plan that she had to know would end in an almost certain defeat? It didn't seem likely. Or... had she retained her ideals as a policewoman, her loyalty to her partner, and her dedication to the law, and was she waiting to drop the hammer on him right here and now, with some master plan he hadn't seen coming? Maybe one of the witnesses from the hotel had talked. Maybe she and Joel had found other sources within the Delvecchio family, someone that would rat on them in exchange for clemency. Maybe it was all about to come crashing down, this life of luxury and privilege David had always enjoyed. That seemed possible... but unlikely He wasn't fully sure what to expect.

Either way, it was out of his hands now. David was simply going to sit back and wait for the grand reveal.

Monica didn't move as the younger man waited for her to act. Her heart was pounding. This was the moment she'd been both dreading and anticipating for the longest time. Now it was upon her, and the question was whether she was ready to do this. To go this far. Ready to do what was required to take David down.

She watched him sitting back, waiting calmly... expectantly. He was so confident, so self-assured, so... cocky. This word resonated in her mind, and her eyes fell inexorably down to his crotch. Sitting back, his legs spread, the bulge in his pants had never seemed more apparent... or imposing. She stared right at it, her gaze tracing its outline, memories of her close encounters with... IT... echoing through her mind. Suddenly, she knew what to do. Suddenly, she was ready. There was no more conflict. Not wanting to wait for another moment for her to change her mind, she finally acted.

She began to unbutton the front of her coat, fingers working deftly while keeping the long garment completely closed in the front, not revealing even the slightest bit of what it was hiding. When she was done, she stood up straight and paused, her eyes meeting the younger man's hungry gaze, pausing one last moment before acting. The air crackled with tension between the two of them.

Detective Monica Palmer shrugged her shoulders and cast her arms back, letting her coat fall off her frame, finally revealing what she had on beneath it. As the heavy coat slumped to the floor around her feet, the sight made David's eyes go wide and his lips curled upward in a victorious grin.

The twist David was waiting for... was revealed to be no twist at all. Monica had on one of the FILTHIEST outfits he'd ever seen on a woman. She was wearing a sexy, skimpy, SLUTTY policewoman stripper outfit. So... she really had remembered the off-hand request he'd made, all the way back when he'd upped the stakes of their deal for the first time. It had been half a joke on his part back then, requesting this outfit, but she'd clearly filed it away just in case this moment came to pass. And seeing it was so much better than he could have possibly imagined.

She had on a skimpy half-shirt in the style of a police uniform, short-sleeved, form-fitting, and low cut in the front, exposing the entirety of her flat, toned midriff and an obscene amount of her chest. The light-blue police top was visibly straining to contain Monica's massive tits, and only a small zipper lined up perfectly with her deep, succulent cleavage prevented the top from bursting apart and revealing its contents once and for all. David could see the lacy edges of pastel blue bra beneath the top, only a tantalizing glimpse, but enough to make him surge with lust. The uniform's tight material hugged the round curvature of her giant tits, highlighting their perfectly round, full, gravity-defying shape. Her top was even adorned with props to further the bit: fake chest pockets with little brass buttons, and a fake-looking radio pinned at the front, attached to a very real-looking wire that led under her clothes. Somewhere in his subconscious David noticed the wire, pinging on his radar, but he couldn't keep his eyes from drifting down to all the luscious flesh that was put on display by Monica's tiny stripper outfit.

David had already gotten better looks at her perfect chest than most men, her partner included, but nothing compared to what he was being presented with now. Before, when she'd worn her skimpy gym outfits, he could tell she was always holding back. No longer. This top left an incredible amount of her chest on display, down even to the pale undersides of her mountainous breasts, visible at the heart of her cleavage where they were smushed together within the top. Her massive, round, mouthwatering breasts were being showcased in the way he knew they were always meant to be. Squeezed together compactly within the mock uniform, her succulent, fleshy, creamy tits were bulging outward ever-so-slightly, oozing over the neckline, yearning to burst free. Her chest rose and fall with heavy breaths, each inhalation threatening to burst the zipper and send her titties spilling out into the open air. The upper slopes of her gigantic tits looked immaculate, their curvature on full display as they came together to form a valley of incredible cleavage. She'd shown David a fair bit of her cleavage before, but this was on a whole other level, this top thrusting her tits up and forcing them together, putting them front and center, a plunging canyon of succulent titty-flesh that disappeared into an inescapable depth and softness. Her top was unzipped almost all the way down in the front, straining to keep the sides of her top together, the zipper strong enough to hold back tits as large as hears, but just barely. It would be damn near impossible to show off much more cleavage in that top than she was. The only way she could show off more cleavage without fully exposing herself would be in some form-fitting evening gown with a plunging neckline down to her belly button. The kind she had offered to wear on their dinner date that never was, back when she thought she still had some bargaining leverage, some hope.

David smiled at the thought. Maybe that moment would still come in the future...

His eyes fell to her exposed belly. While he'd seen much of Monica's midriff during their last gym session, it was so much better this way. Her stomach was flat, showing a hint of the musculature she'd spent long hours working to maintain over the years, well into her 30s. Her creamy skin was taut and smooth, her cute belly-button sitting in the ridge of musculature that ran down the center of her abdomen. The sight of her navel on display like this only added to the sexiness of the sight, making her seem somehow more exposed and naked.

Below her waist she wore a low-slung, black leather mini-skirt that, with an oversized black utility belt that seemed more decorative than functional. Clipped to it were more props: an empty holster (David was a bit relieved to see she was not carrying a real gun), a fake store-bought police badge, a toy nightstick, and a pair of very real-looking handcuffs.

The skirt was the briefest suggestion of a garment, falling just below the rounded bulge of her ass-cheeks, barely concealing her crotch from his questing gaze. And it was somewhat loose. While a tight skirt would look amazing glued to her insane hips and ass, the black skirt was slightly pleated, adding an appealing flutter of motion to Monica's actions, while also granting her more maneuverability. It was the type of clothing choice that could only come from experience. She came to do the job reluctantly, but she clearly had vowed to do it well.

But the best part was yet to come. Rising up from beneath the skirt's low waistline were two slim pastel blue straps, riding high on her hips. It was blatantly clear that beneath that tiny black skirt was a thong, exactly to David's liking. He'd made his preference clear during their first meeting, and had hammered it into her during the prolonged period when they'd worked out together, and it all had led to this moment, her outfit curated exactly to his liking, down to her underwear. And she wasn't hiding the fact that she was wearing it, a prize just beneath the surface that would soon be revealed to his waiting eyes. She was announcing it. Flaunting it.

Her thighs were left exposed. Taut and firm, the creamy smooth skin was enough to make his mouth water. His eyes followed her firm musculature downwards, to those black high-heeled leather boots, rising to just below her knees. This really completed the look. The ice queen detective was dressed like a bimbofied, slutty caricature of cop, and David was delighting in it. Not only because it represented her complete capitulation to him, her readiness to give in to his every whim. Not only because the outfit made a mockery of her own identity as a police officer, and of the justice system she held so dear. But because it was, without a doubt, the hottest sight he'd ever seen.

David worked with strippers and sex workers all day, so he was used to seeing women in nothing or next-to-nothing. And while he'd seen women wearing far less than Monica, it came with the territory, and he'd become somewhat desensitized to it. The objectification of gullible women, and the conquest of their bodies, was an essential fact of his life. But this was special. This was a strong, intelligent, independent woman, a career-oriented professional, a police officer of all things... and she'd tried from the very beginning to deny she'd ever end up in this exact situation, dressed exactly like this... for him. A woman who was above indulging such base desires. The fact that she was dressed like this was so much more satisfying than seeing a stripper wearing something skimpier, or sluttier. Those women, most women, were all the same. A dime a dozen. Not Monica. She was something... so more valuable. David's cock was as hard as concrete in his pants, tenting the front of his crotch blatantly. And for a guy who normally played things cool and confident, this... vision... before him was almost enough to turn the 24-year-old into a drooling boy, barely able to keep it together. But he fought to remain in control, controlling his breathing, sitting back into the couch and appraising the sight being presented to him.

"God... damn, Detective," he murmured, shaking his head in admiration, gazing hungrily at her. Hands on her hips with one leg cocked to the side, Monica stared him down with venom in her eyes, a sight which only made the image she was presenting a thousand times sexier.

"You'd better live up to your word for making me do this..." she spat out, trying to ensure he'd live up to his deal.

"I'm not making you do anything, Detective," he responded distractedly, his eyes eagerly gliding up and down her incredible body.

"And no touching!" she warned.

"Of course," he agreed, unbothered by this, confident she'd change her mind eventually, the young man ready to run his hands all over her delicious body. "Show me the back," he demanded, twirling his fingers. He'd done this before at the gym, and just like the last time, Monica rolled her eyes but complied, spinning on her heels to give the young douchebag a view from behind.

And it did not let him down.

The best part was the spin itself. As she twirled around to face away from him, her skirt fluttered and billowed ever so slightly, flaring out and riding up, revealing just a hint of her firm, juicy, thong-clad ass to his hungry gaze. Her ass-cheeks were pale and full, jutting out from the small of her back, sitting like a shelf above the expanse of her toned thighs below. It was the briefest moment where her butt was revealed to him the black leather skirt settling back into place, draping over that firm, juicy backside, hiding it from his sight, but the image was burned right into David's brain.

Her bare lower back gave him another view of the thong rising from underneath the skirt, the triangle of the pastel blue thong visible to his eyes, peeking out from beneath the chunky belt. A whale-tail that was making itself known, a naughty sight which made the young punk want to grab her, hike that skirt up, and get his hands on her juicy rear-end. As she posed for him like this, her hands remained on her hips, allowing him to notice the bulging sides of her massive round tits, her considerable bust visible even from the back.

She was so unbelievably hot.

David was keyed-up and rock-hard. He was so fucking excited by this sight. But he had to maintain focus. This was the moment of truth, and playing his cards right would be the difference between victory and failure.

Sensing he'd gotten a good enough look at her backside, the cop spun back around to face him again, the younger man unable to meet her eyeline as his eyes fell immediately to her massive tits, watching as the motion made them sway and jiggle in her tight top before settling into place. David shook his head in wonderment and grinned.

"Damn, Detective. I admire you. You must be a pretty fucking good cop to be taken seriously when you have tits like those, haha!" David remarked, making her eyes roll, even though to his credit, his comment basically summed up the entirety of her career. "I have to say, it must be tough to do the job when you have porn-star tits, Detective. I mean, can you even get a bulletproof vest over those puppies?"

"You done?" she asked, annoyed at his comments, even as part of her got a rush at being treated so shamelessly described and appraised like a piece of meat. She had to stamp down that side of her, now more than ever. She couldn't give the bimbo personality lurking within her even the slightest bit of oxygen, lest it ignite a raging inferno that would consume her. Even still... David's degrading language caused her nipples to stiffen ever so slightly, enough for the young man's trained eyes to notice.

"That's it, Detective. It's okay to enjoy this!" he remarked, watching her nipples poke through top of the baby-blue cop uniform. "And it's okay to take pride in your body. I told you when we started texting... my cock loves being praised. When girls go nuts over it and just can't stop talking about it, I get so much fucking harder! When we were texting, and you started asking about my hog... just knowing that even someone like you was slowly getting obsessed with it, just like all the other women I know... I was fucking throbbing!"

"Really?" Monica asked before realizing it, her tone sounding genuine even in the midst of her impatience. She remembered that day well... curled up on her couch, sipping wine, texting with David fucking Delvecchio like a teenage girl with a major crush, while he sent her increasingly degrading photos of Dana... and eventually his own dick. The bimbo side of herself had drooled over the photo of his clothed bulge he'd sent to her, revisiting it time and time again in the weeks since he'd sent it, adding it to the favorites folder in her Photos library. Now, to think... he had been rock-hard while he was texting her that day... the bimbo within her thrilled at the thought. Angry at herself, Monica again had to try to contain that part of herself.

"Definitely!" David replied. "Trust me, it's amazing to embrace the gifts you have. Embrace the fact that the opposite sex goes crazy at the sight of you. You treat it like a curse, when it's actually your greatest gift! Trust me, it's a rush... I know I have a great body! I've personally experienced the way other people react to me. Women want me instantly, and men are always jealous. Even when they try to hide it, I can feel it. And I own it. You really should follow my lead. Take pride in that body of yours. Show it off! Doesn't it feel amazing to make men drool? Doesn't it drive you crazy knowing that those tits of yours can make a man as hard as steel?"

"No..." she replied, her response lacking the bite she hoped for, her nipples tingling as they stiffened even more. This had just begun, and her body was already betraying her. This was NOT going well!

"Doesn't it feel natural to be dressed like this?" David teased. "To put that perfect body of yours on display for a man like me? It's almost as if you're meant for it. Are you sure you haven't done this before?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, asking a question he was certain he knew the answer to.

"I..." Monica stammered, her confidence immediately hammered by the cocky younger man, again proving himself able to see right through her.

"I imagine you didn't find an outfit like this on a couple days' notice," David correctly surmised. "Where was it, packed it away in the back of your closet just in case?" he asked. Monica looked away as David effortlessly saw right through her, his words distressingly accurate, making her feel even more naked in his gaze than she already was. "Detective!" he said firmly, getting her attention, forcing her to raise her eyes off the floor, meeting his gaze as he interrogated her. "You've done this before, haven't you?" he asked, his words low and firm, demanding the truth.

From his cocksure tone, it was clear to her that he already knew the answer. Even though he'd only become aware of this possibility through rumors and hearsay, his keen skills of perception had all but confirmed it. There was no hiding it from him anymore. And she figured since he could see her so nakedly, there was no point trying to keep those clothes on.

"Yes..." she finally admitted. She'd been denying her past for years, never admitting this fact to anyone. The rumors had been persistent, and she'd always shot them down. She'd never even opened up about it with Joel, and he had the decency not to ask about it. But it was David of all people that she finally admitted the truth to, because he could see what no one else could.

"Undercover?" the young man inquired.

"Yes," Monica confessed, nodding, unable to shake the uncomfortable sensation of being seen through so completely. He wasn't talking to Monica, the experienced detective. He was talking to Monica the bimbo slut, buried within herself, who was screaming out for acknowledgment. It felt like he'd seen that side of her from the start with such unwavering clarity, And the more he spoke to that side of her, the more she responded, and the harder it was to keep her below the surface. David never viewed her as the detective she presented herself as, nor did he ever treat her with the level of respect that comes from such a title. He saw right through her like two-way glass. He always looked at her as if he could see that side of her. He always treated her like she was dressed like she was now, in a skimpy parody of her own identity. And now... his fantasy had become reality.

"I knew it!" David exclaimed upon hearing the detective confirm that she'd gone undercover as a stripper years before. "Even before I heard the rumor, I could just tell! I have a gift for this sort of thing!"

"Lucky you," Monica replied poisonously, her simmering tone sending a thrill through him. "With that kind of gift, it seems like you've risen about as high in life as you were meant to." She meant this as an insult. But upon hearing this this, his lips turned up in a meaningful grin that made even Monica slightly nervous, wondering if she'd misspoken in some way.

"Oh, you have NO idea!" David said with a laugh.

A long, heavy silence filled the room, the tension of the moment. A new song began, the music pumped into the room through the speakers, and this caused David to break the tension.

"So?" he asked expectantly.

"What?" she asked. At this, David's grin twisted into an impatient sneer.

"Did you dress like this to do my taxes?" he asked harshly, his tone treating her as stupid. "Or did you dress like this to dance?"

"I'm sorry..." she apologized, a genuine and reflexive reaction to his scolding. Catching herself, scowling that she'd actually apologized to him just because he'd commanded her with a firm, confident, appealingly masculine tone... So dominant, so powerful...

No! She had to get ahold of herself. The detective shook these intrusive thoughts out of her head, pushing down the bimbo once again, not letting David get a rise out of her. Looking at him with renewed purpose, she reminded herself that she was here for a reason: not only to wipe that smug smirk off his face, but to make him squeal about his family's awful crimes and get justice for the late Mayor Chapin. It was time to act. It was time to close this case. It was time for her to finally win.

It was time for her to shake her stuff, take off her clothes, show that douchebag the goods, and rub her body all up against him. And in doing so, she would emerge victorious. It would be Monica getting what she wanted out of this, not him.

Monica closed her eyes, ready to begin. When she performed while undercover, she worked out a routine. When she was offstage, she was still in cop-mode even as she played out her role. But there was no utility to being a cop when she was dancing on stage. To perform the job well, she had to be completely in the moment. She had to let go of anything that would hold her back. If there was ever a moment where she could let her bimbo side take the wheel, it was when she was performing. When she was dancing for men's pleasure. She couldn't afford to do that this time. She had a job to do, and she couldn't forget that. She couldn't let her bimbo side put one finger on the wheel, lest it send her careening out of control. She had to rely on muscle memory. She had to inhabit the role of stripper from over a decade prior, without fully becoming her old self. All those private dances, all those secluded rooms and the men inside. And she had to do it without losing control, keeping her bimbo instincts at bay. She couldn't let that side of her be coaxed to the surface by David again.

One slip-up could prove catastrophic.

Monica's eyes opened as she locked in. Allowing the infectious beat to take hold, her hips started to rock along with it. As she swayed, she raised her hands above her head, clasping them together. The rhythm resonated more and more within her body, her hips beginning to roll smoothly, again and again. Her midriff tensed and stretched as her back arched. And once her body got warmed up and fully in motion, she allowed herself to slowly turn around, spinning gradually, as if driven by the motion of her rolling hips. Her ass was shaking, rolling with an immaculate smoothness. The short leather skirt bounced and fluttered, giving another peek at the juicy underside of one perfectly round ass-cheek, sending a rush through David as he saw more of the lady detective exposed than he'd ever seen up to this point. Soon, she was facing away from him, still rolling her hips, giving him a straight-on view of her shaking ass, his eyes staring bullets into her as the lower-half of her ass-cheeks would teasingly jump out of the confines of her miniskirt, again and again and again. In the dim light of the private room, the light-blue material of the tiny thong was invisible, swallowed up in her ass-crack, but he hunted for it with his eyes with every tantalizing glimpse of her rear end.

Monica glanced over her shoulder at David as she shook her ass for him, and what she saw made a rush of excitement go through her. His eyes were glued to her! She could feel his heated stare on her rear-end, and that only inspired her to keep shaking it for him. But her excitement was secondary. The fact that he was so arrested by her body meant that her plan was working. She had him.

Monica's plan was one of malicious compliance. Give David exactly what he wanted, to his own detriment. As confident and calm as he portrayed himself to be, as well-built and hung as he certainly was, she could sense the fact that he'd grown obsessed with her and her hot body over the time they'd gotten to know each other. She was a fascination to him, the one woman who'd been able to resist his charms, who constantly rebuked and refused him. Possessing her was his ultimate goal. So, she was playing into that. Tease him, work it, utilize all the tricks she'd learned in her time undercover, crank up the tension, draw this out until HE was the who'd gone crazy with need. And at that point, she'd cut him off, ideally without showing him any more of herself than he'd already seen, although she suspected she wouldn't get quite that lucky. But she could still draw it out, drive him insane with lust. And in his desperation for more, he'd finally give her whatever she wanted. He'd finally squeal! This plan was dangerous, and perhaps foolhardy, as there was a razor-thin margin for error. She just had to trust in herself, have faith in her own willpower, and believe that she could ratchet up the unbearable sexual tension between them... without succumbing to it herself.

As much as she disliked the smug fucker, it would be a mistake to deny the effect he seemed to have on her. So, she accounted for it. Planned around it. She vowed to do her best to keep her distance as much as possible, even as she performed for him. The moments when she fell under his sway had always been when she had especially close encounters with him... or more precisely, close encounters with that weapon stuffed in his pants. She needed to keep her distance from that... thing... that huge, thick, powerful... thing... in order to best do her job. She needed to be a snake charmer...

And so far, the snake was clearly VERY charmed.

David sat back, the bulge in his lap straining against the fabric of his trousers. He'd been hard as a brick since he saw her walk into his club in that coat, his mind going crazy at the possibility of what she could be wearing underneath. And now that he was seeing it... it exceeded everything he could have hoped for.

Monica rocked her ass back side-to-side, working it for him, the firm cheeks of her ass wobbling in mouthwatering fashion as they kept appearing to David's vision as she moved, aching to escape from underneath her skirt. She even bent over slightly, causing the skirt to ride up even more, exposing more than half of her thong-clad ass, the reveal leaving David breathless, until she stopped in her tracks, standing up straight, the skirt falling back over her ass-cheeks like stage curtains. Even as she withheld this sight from him, David was impressed. Stripping was all about the art of the tease, and despite her icy demeanor, she was clearly a natural.

Monica resumed rolling her hips as she spun back around to face her young tormentor, arms held up straight over her head as she danced, flexing her upper body for him like an exotic belly-dancer. David was etching every bit of this sight into his memory. The manner in which those boots clung to her calves. The way her firm, juicy thighs pressed together as she moved. The subtle lines of her stomach muscles tensing as she danced. And of course, the way her massive melons jiggled and heaved with every slight movement she made. The stiffness of her nipples was more evident than ever, so it was clear that, despite any protestations, she was enjoying this dance too, on some level.

David's eyes were soon locked into her tits again, admiring the way the breast-flesh was squashed inside her flimsy stripper top, forming a luscious wall of cleavage. This energized Monica, seeing how lust-consumed the younger man was as he stared at her chest. He was clearly on the hook! This was going about as well as it could be. Feeling a bit emboldened, she reached up and cupped her massive breasts, digging her fingers into them through her top, making his eyes bug out as her round, firm boobs bulged outward. He couldn't look away as he drunk in the sight of her gigantic, fleshy tits oozing over the edges of the material of her top and bulging through her fingers, so desperate to be freed from their constraints.

Sensing she got slightly carried away in the moment, Monica took a step back, both figuratively and literally. Moving away from the younger man, she strutted towards the stripper pole on the far side of the room, grasping it and taking a preemptive spin around it, the detective working the pole for the first time in over ten years. And in many ways, it felt like it was no time at all, feeling strangely at home as she gripped the pole between her fingers. Locking eyes on him, she leaned back against it, her mouthwatering body curling around it like a serpent, standing on one heel as she did so. This ended with her head falling back and hanging down, staring down the younger man.

David's eyes again returned to her chest, as this position had her tits pointed skyward, those jugs looking as large as mountains. And with the way her upper-half was angled, he couldn't see the material keeping her oversized boobs in place at the front, meaning that those fleshy mounds looked uncovered. It didn't matter that it was an optical illusion, the sight of those firm jiggling tits looking exposed in this manner etched itself into his mind permanently. He would never forget this moment. No one could take this victory from him.

Monica's stood straight again with an almost liquid grace, slithering up against the pole. Angling herself so she was facing to the side, she looked at the younger man as he stared hungrily back at her, admiring her in profile as she worked the pole. And she did just that, arching her back and pressing her ass against the cool chrome, the firm cheeks of her rear-end being split by the thick metal pole digging into her ass-crack. From David's position, he again got another teasing glimpse at what was beneath her skirt, a fair amount of the side of her ass exposed to his sight. But the sight up top was even better. With her back arched, it made her tits jut out and look absolutely enormous, the sheer force that her breasts were exerting on her tight police top looking more than enough to make it explode open. David was willing it to do just that, but somehow that damn zipper held strong.

She curled around the pole again, moving around it so it was between her and David. The stripper pole lined up with her cleavage as she pressed her tits against it, the pole wedging itself between her mammoth jugs, and he couldn't help but think of his own cock sinking into that deep valley of cleavage in much the same way. Her boobs ballooned outward at this motion, her stiff nipples becoming even more apparent. She squatted deeply, sliding down the pole, her tits squeaking against it like sneakers on a gym floor, still facing the younger man, and as David noted, still keeping her distance. As much as he was enjoying the show, he was getting impatient. As good as she was, as much of a natural she was at dancing like this... he wasn't here to admire her performance. Sensing the design of her scheme, knowing what Monica the cop still wanted out of this encounter... he cut through the bullshit.

"This doesn't end with your clothes on, Detective," David dictated firmly, leaving little doubt to Monica that there was no wiggle room for her to take advantage of. "I'll watch the show for as long as you want to dance, but this only ends one way. If you want to drag this out, that's up to you, but if you want me to live up to my end of the deal, you need to live up to yours. I didn't ask for a pole dance... I asked for a lap-dance, and usually during lap-dances, the clothes come off... and the girl comes closer."

Monica's movement stalled in its tracks as he called her out, her hesitation plain to see as she stood up straight and disengaged from the pole. The older woman scowled at David as he cut to the point. She'd hoped that she could do just this, that her scantily-clad body would be enough to leave him drooling and compliant. Perhaps she was a bit too optimistic. Maybe he had more willpower than she thought. But that was okay. Even though she hoped for this to end one way, she was prepared for all possible outcomes. And she was prepared to go as far as she had to... to win.

But that didn't mean she had to like it.

She stepped out from behind the pole and strutted toward David with purpose, hips swinging from side to side, her heels clicking decisively on the floor in time with the booming rhythm of the music, approaching the seated younger man. His eyes went wide as she did this, staring at her barely-contained melons as they bounced and jiggled lewdly, and he couldn't help but speak up.

"I have to admit, Detective... I far prefer you dressed like this than in any of your other outfits. It's just... goddamn!" He said with a laugh.

"And I prefer it when you keep your mouth... shut," Monica spat back as she got within arm's reach of him, standing between his spread thighs. David grinned up at her.

"Oh, c'mon, Detective! You can admit it now..." David began. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't like the way I talked about you. If you preferred a man talking to you with respect, you'd be showing your simp, loser partner the goods. You'd be sucking his dick and bouncing on his pole, and you wouldn't have ever given me a second thought. But you like being treated like a piece of meat. You like someone who isn't afraid of you. You like someone who tells you what to do, puts you in your place. And that's why you're here with me. Because I have the balls to make you do it, and your cuck partner doesn't."

"Shut up!" she growled, filled with a sudden anger, reaching forward and roughly shoving him further back into his seat. His eyes flashed at the rough gesture, clearly loving it coming from her, and Monica simply stood in front of him, breathing hard as his words only pissed her off.

She hated that he always bad-mouthed Joel. She hated that David always treated him like a lesser man. Monica hated that David used language that was so crass and immature, comparing himself to the man she truly loved. But the worst thing was, part of her couldn't help but wonder if David was absolutely right, and if every word he said about was true.

Monica would never use the same language as David would, of course... but as much as she loved Joel, the more he talked shit about Joel, the more she realized that he wasn't entirely off-base. Look... as much as she respected what Joel did and why he did it, the fact that he'd thrown away a chance to seal the deal and consummate their relationship... in favor of an emotionally exhausting work discussion that almost turned into a screaming fight... that was a total cuck maneuver if there ever was one! Only a true cuck would fumble at the goal-line like that. He had guaranteed sex on the table... he had the chance to seize the moment and finally get to see her delicious body in the buff for the first time... and he blew it! No one had ever turned down the opportunity when Monica let them in so close.

Like it or not, David was not the type of man who'd make that mistake. David decidedly was not a cuck. He was annoying... and obnoxious... and arrogant... and very, VERY clearly an alpha male in his absolute prime. Even though Monica was aware that the term 'alpha' in the way it was used by men like David was based on bullshit pop science, and that alphas weren't really a thing that actually existed in nature... David was ABSOLUTELY an alpha male in every way possible. Handsome. Confident. Shredded. Hung. Monica wished she could deny it, but even she knew it was true. David was a grade-A, prime-cut, alpha male.

She'd been working with Joel for over a decade, and he'd never driven her crazy like David did. He'd never treated her in the way David did. He'd never disrespected her in the way David savored doing. He'd never made her melt like David did. He'd never turned her on like David did. He'd never made her wet like David did. He'd never made her nipples hard like David did. He'd never made her... touch herself... like David did.

Joel had never confidently commanded her to dress up like a slutty cop for an illicit lap-dance. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd spent the night at Joel's apartment, fallen asleep on his couch with her head on his shoulder. Any of those nights could have been a magical first time for them, the beginning of a romantic relationship that would be the best thing in both of their lives. And he'd never even made a move! He just shepherded her to the guest room and went off to sleep alone like a... like a total BETA! But here and now, David had just confidently told her in no uncertain terms to cut the bullshit, take off her clothes, and show him the goods. Mixed up and sexually frustrated, Monica was desperate not only to win this battle of wills, but at the same time willing someone to step up and at least give it their best shot to seal the deal with her. She'd been more upset than she'd let on that Joel, the man she loved, had essentially turned her down when she was at her most emotionally exposed. In that moment, when she was desperate for validation, the actions he took in response to her overtures were a series of small rejections. He didn't stare. He didn't ogle. He didn't crack jokes. She didn't even know if she made his dick hard! She needed some sort of positive affirmation from somebody, and Joel wasn't providing it. Which is why now, when she was physically exposed in a way she hadn't been in years, David's bullshit was exactly what she needed to hear. It was music to her ears, really clicking with her in the moment. His obvious desire, his praise for her hot body... It was like an oasis in the desert, yet it was quenching her need for validation. Everything he was doing was hitting just right. So, she gritted her teeth, swallowed her pride, and readied herself to ramp up things to the next level with a man she despised.

"Just so we're clear, this doesn't mean you're right about Joel," Monica spat out venomously. Accepting what was about to happen, a rush of reckless excitement coursed through her luscious body, empowering her to dive forward headfirst into something crazy.

"Of course, I am," David replied, smirking, undaunted. But this didn't stop her. Despite his confidence at being able to see through the detective, even he was surprised as Monica raised her leg and planted one booted foot on the sofa beside him without a second's hesitation, as if she'd been waiting for even the slightest nudge to take things to the next level. And just as quickly, she stepped up so she was standing directly in front of him, her heels planted on either side of him, digging into the plush couch cushions. Settling back into his seat, excited for what was about to happen next, he couldn't help but gloat in his victory as he looked straight up at her. "Don't worry, Detective... most women would prefer stripping for a real man like me than a spineless beta like your partner."

"Joel's a better man than you in every way," Monica affirmed, her defenses sounding hollow even to her own ears as she prepared to take her clothes off for David, something she'd never done for Joel.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling," David fired back confidently. Despite her anger, the beat of the next song had already infected her, her hips beginning to move. David let his eyes gaze at her bare, taut thighs, consuming them hungrily as he followed them up to the lower hem of her skirt, the leather material bouncing as she moved. From here, he could look straight up her skirt and he saw the juncture of her thighs, the lacy, baby-blue thong barely covering her pussy. Her hips slowly rocked back and forth, and in time with the music, she spun around, confidently keeping her footing as she turned away from him, her skirt-clad ass now directly above him.

"God damn..." the younger man sighed, and this small, lust-filled acknowledgment sent a rush through the overexcited detective. She had told herself that it was imperative that she not enjoy any of this, to stay focused on the task at hand and not let her worst instincts get indulged, but even these seemingly harmless words cut deeply, reaching the parts of her she'd tried to suppress, his vocalization of his lust filling her with warm, full-bodied satisfaction. Looking down at the slack-jawed younger man, she watched his eyes go wide as she hooked her thumbs into the sides of her skirt, threatening to finally pull it down and expose the goods. Her hips still bouncing and rolling to the music, she paused till she got his attention, the cocky douchebag glancing up at her.

"You've been gawking at my ass for so long..." Monica began, her voice sounding more sensual than she intended. "I hope you can handle actually seeing it in the flesh..." she taunted with a slight smirk. He looked up at her, an uncharacteristically serious look painted across his handsome features as he readied himself to see her body exposed for him. Everything was always a joke to David, but he was being sincere with her now.

"I'll be fine," he replied in a low tenor. "I think you'll enjoy showing me that ass even more than I will seeing it." Monica rolled her eyes.

"Keep dreaming," Monica said in a mocking fashion, tossing her hair, her hips still rocking to the beat. She clicked the buckle at the front of her chunky utility belt, and it sagged around her hips then dropped. She held it out to the side, swaying back and forth for him, then dropped the belt to the floor with a heavy clatter. Despite her reservations every step of the way, when it came down to the moment to start showing the younger man her body, she didn't hesitate. No use dragging it out if it was going to happen anyway. Tugging down firmly, she lowered her skirt an inch or two before pausing, the upper crests of her ass-cheeks slowly being revealed. The tight waistline of the skirt struggled with her hips, preventing her from revealing any more. Her body swaying side to side, she wiggled her hips as she slowly tugged down the skirt. The upper band of her thong was slowly revealed, hugging the upper cleft of her ass, the tiny triangle of blue lace at the top of her ass-crack consuming the younger man's vision. Finally, she was able to make some headway. The firm, bare cheeks of her ass were slowly being revealed, flesh blooming up from beneath the waistline, and even David couldn't do a thing but gawk. His silence was like a small victory for the cop, her body arresting his total attention. Clearly, her little pole-dance performance wasn't quite enough to drive him crazy, but the reveal of her hot, tight body might be enough to get the job done.

She could still win this!

But it certainly didn't feel like a victory. Exposing herself like this for the pleasure of this cocky motherfucker, giving him exactly what he'd asked for from the start... what he'd proudly proclaimed was unavoidable destiny... Was it really her that was winning here? For a moment she thought again of Joel, and wondered where he was, what he was doing, as she bared her ass for their number one witness, the man who had made their lives hell.

She didn't have time to think like that. In the moment, she only had one choice. Take off her clothes and show David her body. So many men had tried... so many better men, like Joel, had never seen her like this... but David was about to.

No longer hesitating, the detective kept tugging down her skirt, revealing more and more as she pulled it down her ass. The shapely, firm cheeks of her ass slowly escaped their confines, rising into view, the snug material digging into the smooth, juicy flesh of her rear-end as it was slowly revealed. Her hips provided perfect resistance, preventing the tightly cinched skirt from traveling too far down, the slow reveal driving David crazy. It was an inadvertent tease, but one she was thankful for. Make that fucking smug prick wait. Make him sweat. Finally, the waist of her skirt reached the widest part of her hips, and once there, she paused for a moment, holding the skirt in place, half of her ass revealed to him, like a sunrise cresting the horizon. Glancing back at him, seeing him hungry for the reveal, she then roughly yanked down the skirt, letting it fall from her ass, the leather garment dropping down her legs and landing heavily in his lap.

David could barely control himself at the sight. He'd enjoyed a lot of women in his young life, but in that moment, all David could think was that this was the best ass he'd ever seen. Firm, round, and full, the cheeks of her ass looked incredible on her fit, shapely body. He'd gotten a good idea of what she was working with when they worked out together, her progressively smaller and tighter outfits leaving increasingly little to the imagination. But the sight of her bare ass was even better. Her workouts clearly did the job, as her ass was firm as hell, vaulting from her frame like a shelf. An ass could only look this good if you devoted time and effort to make it look so impressive, and despite the detective's apparent lack of vanity, she'd done just that, working very hard to ensure she had a perfect, eye-catching ass. It was almost as if, deep down, she wanted men to stare...

The creamy smooth skin of her juicy rear end looked so, so touchable, but David resisted the urge to run a finger against the exposed skin. The tiny blue thong she was wearing only underlined how insane her butt was, riding the top of each cheek before converging, with the tiny string disappearing into the cleft between the firm cheeks. Her ass-crack was fucking divine, immaculate like a work of art, the deep crevasse swallowing the tiny blue-string up. From David's position, he could see the other end of tiny string re-emerge at the bottom of her ass-crack, leading to the tiny patch of material covering her pussy.

This same woman had marched into his club months ago, all fire and confidence and justice, unamused by his bullshit, vowing to bring him to heel and compel him to do what she wanted. And now here she was, showing off her thong-clad ass for him, solely because it was what HE wanted.

He was imposing his will over the ice-queen detective, and he couldn't wait to make her melt further.

"God fucking damn!" David effused, unable to contain his approval. This loud, raw, masculine statement sent a rush through Monica, which she had to swallow, suppressing any excitement she might feel. For the normally buttoned-up detective, her time undercover had inadvertently trained her to enjoy showing off her body for the approval of leering men. Their barely controlled lust, their excitement, her inexperience, combined with the highly-charged atmosphere in the club... it was a wicked cocktail that led to her developing a minor fetish for something that was foreign to her character. And in the time since, with that fetish left unfed for years, never seeing the light, it had warped and twisted in the darkness within herself as its roots deepened. So now, as she exposed herself for a man she couldn't stand, and as he voiced his approval, her naïve hope that such feelings had been choked out for good were dashed. In fact, not only were those feelings still present, they were somehow stronger than ever, David's approval hitting the detective tenfold, sending a rush of illicit excitement through her delectable body. Like a caged animal, this taunting rush had her bimbo side screaming to escape its confines and reach the surface.

"You like that ass?" Monica purred, unable to resist settling into that tone, the bimbo's excitement affecting her more than she wanted it to. David's normally cool eyes were filled with fire as he glanced up at the detective, looking like a hungry lion on the hunt.

"Your ass is fucking unreal, Detective," he responded, his voice a low growl, staring directly at her juicy ass, admiring it. He looked ready to pounce.

"You know the rules," she warned. "No touching." For a moment, she felt in charge, enough so to taunt him like this. And clearly, he felt it as well, giving her a dark look, all humor in his face gone at the thought of being unable to touch the perfection being presented to him. For a guy who always seemed to get what he wanted, the concept of finding a woman who turned his crank to the insane degree that the busty detective did, and never getting to lay a finger on her delicious body, seemed like the most tortuous outcome imaginable.

He was confident it wouldn't end that way.

But he wouldn't cheat. He wouldn't cross the line. He wouldn't break the rules. This was a battle of wills. A game, one he'd been playing for years against many different opponents. And so far, he was undefeated. He was confident that not only would his hands end up on the detective's tasty body by the end of the night, but she would welcome his touch ALL OVER her naked flesh.

Monica's lower half began to move with the music again, her smooth hips rolling as she worked her thong-clad ass for the younger man. David was arrested by the sight of her juicy ass moving for him, the practically bare cheeks standing out on her slim frame, getting teasingly close to him as she danced. Flexing and bouncing, jiggling and wobbling... Then she was flicking her hips, twerking for him, making the cheeks dance wildly, up and down, up and down, clapping against each other. David had enough experience with women that it took a lot to raise his pulse. But this... seeing what he was seeing, knowing that this respected officer of the law was shaking her ass for him, twerking like a primo stripper slut... his blood was pumping like never before. His cock was as hard as a diamond, straining to escape his pants... And he knew it was just a matter of getting the detective reacquainted with his weapon one more time.

Then the game would be won.

All he had to do was get her worked up. Make her lose focus. Turn her on. And with the way she'd been reacting to him the entire time they'd known each other, that shouldn't be too difficult. He'd come close a couple times. Once or twice, he even thought he might be able to get her home and seal the deal, or even fuck her in the locker room at the gym. But now...

"You ever dance for your limp-dick partner like this?" David asked, biting cruelty in his voice.

"I don't dance like this for men I actually respect," Monica replied lamely. She'd raised her arms so her hands were pressed into the low ceiling for balance, allowing her to shake her nearly bare ass back and forth wildly. "The type of man who would ask this of me... doesn't deserve it."

"I confess, I can do without respect... so long as I get to see this perfect fucking ass..." David responded. As he admired the sight of her juicy rear end wobbling and jiggling lusciously, he continued. "But we both know you're full of shit, Detective. A chick like you... I think you ONLY do this for men you respect. And like it or not... I've earned your respect. Your partner never earned this... but I did. When I first told you that I wanted this, I bet in a million years you never planned to actually go through with it. But I got you here, Detective. I got you dressed up like a slut, shaking your fucking ass for me like a whore. I'm the one who broke you down. I'm the one who dunked on you, over... and over... and over again... You were supposed to get me talking, but now you, on fucking principle, have to take off your clothes for me. So, don't even try to pretend I haven't earned your respect!"

Turning away from him, hiding her face, Monica blushed deeply. As much as she hated David, everything he said was true. She'd laughed him off at the start, judging his arrogance and frat-bro bullshit to be ridiculous... but here she was, dancing for him and him alone. Doing things for him that she'd never done for Joel. Showing him parts of herself that Joel had never seen. This cocky fucker, this obnoxious young douchebag... he'd gotten so much farther with her than Joel ever had, in a fraction of the time. She'd done more to make David's cock hard than she'd ever allowed herself to do for the man she supposedly loved and respected. Joel cared about her so much, she knew that, and he clearly treated her with honor and respect. But here, in this moment, Monica realized the respect he showed didn't earn him any in return. She felt affection for Joel, and she felt pity for the marriage he'd thrown away to get closer to her... But she wouldn't call what she felt for him "respect," in the sense that a woman is supposed to feel for a man she planned to spend her future with. Deep down, Monica knew that if Joel could trade places with David in this moment, he'd do it in a second. He wanted to see her body too, just like any other man, but when he'd been presented with the opportunity, he chickened out, unable to step up in that moment... just like a fucking cuck! But David... Oh, David. He'd confidently and boldly stepped up every step of the way, rising to the moment, playing to win. He'd started flirting with Monica from the moment he'd laid eyes on her, right here in this very club. He'd announced his intentions on that day, and damn if he didn't get what he wanted. David had achieved in a matter of months what Joel had failed to accomplish in all his years of knowing her.

Monica had to respect that.

Still facing away from him, she was able to use her contact with the ceiling as added leverage to lean forward, arching her back to thrust her ass back, really put it out on display. She popped her ass up and down, twerking her perfect ass for the young punk. The cheeks of her perfect ass were jiggling lewdly for the cocky younger man, and their motion allowed David a teasing glimpse of the string of her thong traversing down the full-length of her ass-crack. She was giving David an incredible show, far more than what she'd initially intended to do.

It was just... it was annoyingly impressive what he'd been able to achieve. He was a smug, obnoxious asshole. So confident in himself... so fucking confident. She kept thinking it all over. He'd fucking called his shot months ago, making clear his hunger for her right from the start, and now he was getting it. What was he, a fucking fortune-teller? All his boasts and brags echoed in her head, the things he'd promised he would do to her... and she couldn't deny what he'd accomplished. What he'd been able to get Monica to do, through sheer force of will. That she was now dancing for him, exposing herself, giving him everything he wanted. The fact that he'd been able to flip the script against her so completely, asserting control over the experienced detective... it was a turn-on to Monica on an almost soul-deep level. The way David had treated her this whole time was a constant reminder that the bimbo she tried to keep dormant inside was still there, still alive, as he seemed to be luring that side of her to the surface with everything he said and did, with his body, with his smug fucking grin, with his big, powerful hands... and the promise of that massive, powerful tool... He made a part of her buzz with excitement, a part that she had desperately tried to keep under wraps for more than a decade... And the feelings he had incited made her outer defenses crumble. It made her want to twerk her ass for him like a fucking slut. It felt so good it almost made Monica want to LOSE...

Monica thought of their conflict as an unstoppable force versus an immovable object, but while David remained immovable, the force of justice that Monica represented had completely folded when faced down with such an indomitable opponent.

He was so fucking cocky... so fucking confident... so fucking dominant...

It only added to the contrast between him and Joel. Joel was tentative, respectful, kind-hearted. David was bold, rude, and assertive. Monica wanted to deny all of David's slights against Joel. She didn't want to even be thinking that way. But the longer this went on, and the more she tried to bury those thoughts, the louder they got. She had to work so hard just to hold onto the parts of herself she held dear... she didn't know if she was strong enough to go on defending her partner's honor as well. The normal, practical, logical side of herself tried to keep thinking rationally, but the low-IQ, immature, brainless bimbo at her core kept agreeing with David, screaming from somewhere deep and dark that Joel was a simp, a beta... a CUCK! The words were echoing so loud in her head that they were getting harder and harder to silence. And even harder to deny. She didn't know if it was David's voice in her head anymore, or her own voice, echoing him, vigorously agreeing with him.

And through it all, she kept shaking her ass in David's face.

"Jesus, Detective..." David sighed, in disbelief that she was fucking twerking for him. This super-cop, this highly regarded detective... she was twerking her thong-clad ass for him. He was a bit surprised she even knew what twerking WAS. And she was only getting more into it, her ass bouncing more vigorously, cheeks clapping crazily before his eyes.

"Is this what you wanted, David?" Monica spat out. "You wanted me to shake my ass like a fucking slut?"

Despite her tone sounding like she was offended that she had to humiliate herself like this for him, she seemed to be getting WAY more into it. As she shook her ass for him, she reached back and hooked her finger into the back of her thong. With him watching, she tugged it out, pulling the string of her thong from within her ass-crack, pulling it far from her body. The garment was stretched out enough that David was able to look at her ass as if it was completely bare, the thong pulled away enough that what little covering it did do was rendered irrelevant. Monica toyed with the string of the thong hooked in her finger, running it up and down the tiny string repeatedly before finally releasing her hold of it, the tiny garment snapping back into place, the length of the string disappearing into her ass-crack again.

"You're fucking built for this!" David replied, his voice getting heavier with lust. "You're made to be on stage! That body of yours is meant to be on display! You just needed a man like me to make you understand that." Her ass was so close, hovering over his face, just begging to be touched. She was taunting him with its fit, firm perfection, and it took more self-control than he knew he had to endure such temptation... to keep himself from reaching up and grabbing it, spanking it, squeezing it.

"Oh, are you the man for me?" she asked mockingly, looking down at him over her shoulder, meeting his arrogant swagger with ridicule and scorn even as she continued shaking her nearly bare ass for him. Her body was certainly treating David as if he was indeed the man for her... poised to assert control over where that ass of hers would end up.

"It certainly isn't your partner," David remarked with a smirk. "He's had ten years with you and gotten nowhere. What do you even do with that cuck? Hold hands? Hug it out? I've known you a few months and I've already got you showing me the goods. So yeah, I think I'm the man for the job."

"You really think highly of yourself... don't you?" Monica asked, pushing her ass back so it was closer than ever to his smug, handsome face, wiggling it side-to-side, back-and-forth, inches away from him.

"Detective, his ex-wife has known him even longer than you have... and she says I'm a better man than him in every way," David bragged. "And... as much as you would hate to admit it, you're starting to feel the same way. So yeah... I think my confidence is well-founded, Detective." As she kept working it for him, his close proximity to her body was driving him crazy, his cock throbbing in his pants. When she finally gave in, his cock was going to demolish her after the level of unholy teasing she was putting him through. But he was taking it for now, because he knew the payback would be worth it.

She rolled her eyes and tried to laugh this comment off, tried to think of another snarky comeback... but as she looked away from his face, she glanced down, and her eyes took notice of the slab of meat straining in his pants. This sight of it immediately distracted her and totally interrupted her rhythm. Looking up and seeing her eyes glued to his clothed bulge, he grinned as he caught her staring. Not wanting to hear him gloat, she knew she had to say something.

"The only reason you're so fucking cocky... is because you won the genetic lottery by having a huge dick!" Monica finally said. This taunt was supposed to have the same bite as her earlier comments, but it was hard to make such a comment come across as anything else but praise, and her tone had certainly lost some of its sting.

It also didn't help that as she said this, she proceeded to squat in front of him, her hands on her knees as she brought her ass dangerously close to his bulging crotch. This position made her rear-end look obscene, the juicy cheeks forced apart, the curves of her firm ass highlighted as they hovered over his lap. This again gave him an incredible view of her thong traversing down into the valley of her ass-crack, this position allowing him a wonderful unobscured view of the tiny little dental-floss-thin string of material almost all along the way through her ass-crack before it followed the curves of her body down and out of sight.

Monica held herself in this position, a mere few inches above his bulge. She felt like she was in a whirlpool, struggling to swim against the current, drawn inexorably down, risking her own oblivion by moving so teasingly close to the imposing cock between David's legs, one so powerful it had proven capable of warping Monica's mind. But she maintained the minuscule distance between them as she knelt on the couch, straddling his body, steadying herself by resting her hands on his knees. In this position, she rocked her ass back and forth, bouncing it lightly, still working it despite the combative tone of her words.

That made it so much better. On one hand, she hated that she was doing this, but that wasn't stopping her from doing a really fucking a good job. She wasn't being tentative. She wasn't backing off. She was clearly enjoying this. She was throwing herself into what she was doing, which made it all the more obvious right from the start that she was on a mission to avoid getting anywhere close to his prick. She'd kept her distance at first, and even when she got close, she didn't get that close. She wasn't just gonna give him the typical lap dance he wanted, grinding up against him, letting him crush that cock up against her ass again... So, she stood over him, putting an extra distance between them, even while teasing him and enrapturing by showing him how far she was willing to go. Sometimes, the absence of something proves its existence, and the fact that she was so clearly doing everything she could to avoid his most powerful weapon made it incredibly clear that his sizable cock was front and center in her mind during every moment of this performance. Behind that icy glare and embittered attitude, thoughts of his powerful weapon were dominating her already.

And as she got really into the dance, and worked herself up, her control was slipping. She was betraying the fact that she was so singularly focused on his manhood. She was letting herself get teasingly close to it, hovering just above it, so close that if she lost her balance, she'd land right on his meaty pole. But the choice to get so close, combined with the fact that she'd addressed the elephant trunk in the room verbally for the first time.... David couldn't let the moment pass.

"Detective!" David replied, grinning proudly. "When did you notice? At what point in your investigation did you first note that I have a massive fucking cock? When did that become critical to the case? Hm? I'm sure it was before I texted you those pictures. Was it when you went hysterical outside the restaurant and I had to pin you until you calmed down?"

"M-maybe..." she admitted, evading the question, somewhat distracted, still rolling her hips and shaking her ass directly above his lap.

"Or was it when you rubbed your ass against me at the gym..." he asked, staring directly at her bouncing rear end.

"You did that!" Monica pointed out defensively. "You made it, uh, hard to avoid." She paused before adding, dreamily... "So hard..."

"But you kept it there..." David added. "You ground against it. You went back for seconds. You fucking loved it!"

"No, I didn't..." Monica denied weakly, looking back at him, not even bothering to keep up the pretense of dancing as she defended herself, just squatting and presenting her ass as she defended her honor.

"You did, Detective! And you know you did," David asserted. "Is that why you're steering clear of it? Is that why so little of this lap dance is actually... on my lap? Afraid that history will repeat itself? Afraid what'll happen with no one around to stop you?" His taunts struck a bullseye, acknowledging the unspoken weak spot she was clearly working so hard to protect herself from.

"Okay, shut the fuck up!" Monica screamed out, this taunt spurring her to act, standing up and stepping down from the couch so she could turn to face him. She looked furious, his words clearly hitting a nerve, enflaming her anger enough to almost put an end to the night's evenings. Despite her fury, she'd never looked better. Her creamy, smooth flesh glowed with perspiration. Her barely contained breasts were rising and falling as she caught her breath after the strenuous dance, panting in front of him. And her barely clothed lower-half looked practically naked, the tiny blue lacy material of the thong barely covering her modesty. And despite her anger, she appeared to be very, very wet, the material soaked with her juices, her pussy lips visible through the fabric.

She looked so fucking hot!

"This... this isn't..." Monica stammered, clearly upset. "This isn't about your, your..."

"Dick?" he interjected. "Cock? Babymaker?" Rolling her eyes, she continued.

"Yes! This isn't about your huge fucking dick!" Monica spat out, staring right at it as she continued speaking. "I do not have to engage with that... thing! I do not have to touch it! I do not have to grind against it... I do not have to feel it pressed against me. I do not have to..." Monica paused, licking her lips, her voice wavering. Catching herself, shaking her head in response, she realized she'd clearly gotten off track. She ripped her eyes from his crotch and stared the cocky fucker in the eye once more. "The point is, that wasn't part of the deal!"

"Never said it was," David replied smoothly. "You're the one who started talking about my dick..."

Monica went to reply, her lips starting to move to say the words, but she realized he was right. He'd danced around that fact, sure, but she was the one who brought up the lingering specter of his manhood to the surface. About ready to boil over at the fact that he'd caught her defenses slipping, her face turned red as she looked embarrassed and downright furious.

"But we can keep going," David added with a laugh. "I told you that my cock loves being the center of attention, so by all means... keep talking. It loves when you speak to it directly..." He then sat back and spread his legs, putting his arms along the back of the couch as he awaited further oral worship. That type of worship typically started with words. Then her lips. Then her tongue. Then her throat...

Monica breathed deep, staying silent for a few long, agonizing moments of silence. His big cock was the biggest X-factor in this whole thing, and it being the center of discussion would only make it more dangerous. Seeing that he wouldn't be dissuaded from the subject, and knowing that further talk of his manhood would be a VERY bad idea, she opted to change the subject, hopefully steering away from talk of his big penis for good.

"How about we talk about these instead..." Monica said with a sneer, as she brought her hand to the front of her top. David's confidence was momentarily interrupted as he realized what was about to happen, the younger man bristling with excitement.

Deftly grabbing the zipper between two fingers, Monica firmly tugged it down all the way. The sheer force of her massive tits caused her police top to fly open, revealing the thin, lacy blue bra she had on beneath it. This was a whole new level... so much more revealing than the sexy cop uniform, so much more than the series of increasingly skimpy sports bras he'd talked her into wearing. This bra wasn't built for coverage, or for support... it was built to showcase. The thin, lacy material was glued to her giant melons, molding to the soft flesh, barely holding them in. Compared to this bra, the police top was practically bulky. With that out of the way, it felt like so much of the immaculate slopes of her firm, luscious tits were on display, the smooth flesh oozing over the edges, barely held back as the bra pushed her firm tits up and together, really putting them on display.

And the best part was... the material was almost see-through. It still covered her nipples, but it gave just enough of a hint as to what was barely being contained within to tantalize the person who got to see it.

And that person was David.

Any trace of humor dropped from the confident younger man's face, the sight of what was about to be presented not a laughing matter. This was the culmination of all his work. Monica had strolled into his club for the first time confident and assured that she had David's number. She had looked down at him, like an experienced cop would look at a petty criminal. But the script had flipped. Now, the confident, ice-queen detective was about to show him her tits, and David had never been more excited. He had to shift in his seat he was so fucking hard, massaging his bulge once reflexively as he beheld her glorious, bra-encased cleavage. His cock was straining against his pants so hard that Monica could surmise its shape clearly through the fabric, the massive girth swelling in his crotch and running halfway down his thigh.

Monica was panting, a heady cocktail of nerves and exhilaration pumping through her. As the music in the room faded out, her dancing slowed, but the adrenaline kept pumping, and when the speakers started playing another song with a heavy beat, the rhythm hit her again, settling back into the moment, her hips swaying again, catching the rhythm.

The police half-top hanging uselessly from her shoulders suddenly felt like it weighed ten pounds. Reaching back, arching her back and thrusting her breasts forward, she let the top fall down her arms. Catching it smoothly in her hand, she tossed it to the side, very deliberately making sure it landed on the couch, as it held the wire that was listening in to this whole thing, attached to her fake police radio, ready to catch a confession as soon as they left David's lips.

The detective was now standing in front of the younger man wearing only her skimpiest baby-blue lingerie, and those knee-high leather boots. Otherwise, she was practically nude, in front of this arrogant douchebag. The fire in his eyes at the sight sent a dark thrill through her, as did the glance she stole at the straining crotch of his pants. The bulge looked absolutely fucking GIGANTIC! Clearly, he was enjoying the sight...

She steadied herself. She wanted to get that... thing... both out of the conversation and out of her mind. If that required showing this obnoxious motherfucker her huge fucking tits, then so be it. And if that moment was gonna happen, there was no point wasting time.

Staring directly at him, watching his handsome face before the grand reveal, she reached back to undo the clasp holding her bra together. Feeling it release with a jolt, Monica didn't hesitate. She shrugged the straps off her shoulders and let the force of her voluminous breasts push the cups outward into her waiting hands. She peeled the sky-blue lace away from her creamy flesh, then yanked the bra off all at once and tossed it aside. She stood in front of the younger man with her hands on her hips, head held high, exposing her breasts to David for the very first time. And the way his eyes widened as he took in the sight sent another unwanted rush of pure satisfaction coursing through her.

For a man as confident as David, someone who was such a smooth talker as he was... he seemed speechless. He was frozen. No smug words emerged from his slightly parted lips. No witty comments could be made. All he could do was sit there and drink it all in.

Monica's tits were the greatest pair of breasts he'd ever seen. No joke. No disputing that fact. First, and most importantly... they were absolutely FUCKING HUGE! David had seen an ungodly amount of bare tits in his time... and the detective's enormous melons were bigger and better than them all. David's trained eye had sized them up as double F-cups from the moment they first met, but seeing them exposed like this... maybe he'd underestimated. They looked even bigger out of her bra than they did in it. And not only were they huge, they were perfect -- holding their teardrop shape, jiggling slightly on her chest but still undeniably firm and all-natural. Perfectly full, luscious, and succulent and just... perfect. They vaulted out from her chest in an obscene fashion, looking too big on her otherwise taut, fit form... that pair of absolutely massive titties seemed almost too good to be true. Monica was in her mid-30s, but her tits had lost none of the firmness and ripeness of her youth, still looking as lovely and mouthwatering as they had during her brief stint working undercover as a stripper. They showed none of the ravages of time or aging and sat heavy, high on her chest, above her flat stomach and flaring hips. Even without a bra, her gigantic jugs pressed together in a mouthwatering fashion, forming a natural canyon of cleavage so deep and smooth you might never want to escape. The sheer amount of smooth, succulent, snowy breast-flesh on display was almost overwhelming.

The only interruptions in this incredible display were the mouthwatering nipples on each massive melon. They were just perfectly sized pink areolas, capped with very, VERY stiff nipples that were absolutely fucking mouthwatering. Standing out from her mountainous tits on the blush-pink mounds of her areola, those rubbery nubs called out to the younger man, making him lick his lips. Those fucking nipples would be in his mouth within minutes, he vowed to himself.

David looked her over, admiring the entire sight of Monica topless at last. She posed with her hands on her hips, letting him take in the monumental sight of her ripe, bare melons for the first time, and they jiggled deliciously as she cocked her hip to one side. Even though she wasn't dancing, the small motions she made caused her heavy, fleshy tits to wobble in an incredible way. Those firm udders didn't sag in the slightest despite their size, and they looked so fucking soft. David couldn't wait to sink his fingers into those fucking jugs and squeeze them to his heart's content.

But for now, he had to obey her request... no touching.

The sight of the detective exposed like this was almost too good to be real. There was just something incredible about this ice-queen cop who worked so hard to desexualize herself while on the clock. But at the same time, she had such an insane body that was seemingly made for a different type of life, one quite opposite to her actual career. It truly did seem an impossible feat to keep those fucking jugs of hers under wraps, and now that they were free of any coverings, as they were meant to be, David vowed to ensure that they would never be so covered up again. Those tits needed to breathe.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Monica!" David sighed, addressing the detective by name he was so gob-smacked.

"You like them?" she asked apathetically, still playing the ice-queen, suppressing the rush she was feeling at his effusive reaction, her attention starved body drinking in his praise. She shimmied her shoulders slightly, making her firm breasts wobble lusciously, and David blinked in disbelief, practically levitating off the sofa.

"Yeah, that's putting it lightly..." David admitted, shifting in his seat. At this invitation, Monica couldn't help but steal another glance at his crotch. It looked so huge! It was fucking obscene! She could practically see it throbbing through his pants...

No. NO! The whole point of this was to distract herself from his bulge! She had to ignore it! Don't let him affect her. Keep control!

"Let me put it this way," David continued, his gaze never leaving the detective's bare breasts. "You have the best fucking tits I've ever seen," he stated, his voice a masculine growl, the intensity in his words making the cop shiver.

"Really?" she couldn't help but ask, his approval striking her far more potently than she expected, penetrating her resolve and softening her tone. "You like big breasts, David?"

"Those aren't breasts, Detective," David explained, correcting her. "When they're that fucking huge and perfect, they're tits. Big, fat fucking TITS!" The way he said that word with such bite made Monica shiver.

No... she REALLY had to stop enjoying this so much...

"You have big tits, Detective. Own that fact," David advised her, sitting back again, this casual, unshakeable acknowledgment of this fact as he appraised her sending a lightning bolt of delight through her perfect form. "It was the first thing I noticed about you. I bet every single man you've met, be it cop or criminal... I guarantee they all felt the same way. I promise you that even your cuck partner did too, though he never had the balls to say it. But I do... So, ask your question again, Detective," he implored her, sitting back and waiting.

Monica paused, inwardly shaking her head, scowling as she rolled her eyes. Her better judgment hated the fact that David had the balls to think he could boss her around. But... every word he said, and the manner he said them, ticked every fucking box for the bimbo side of herself she kept trying to suppress. As much as she wanted to deny him, the prospect of obeying him in this small way was just too tempting...

"Do you like my TITS, David?" Monica purred, submitting to the premise of his challenge. And immediately, her pleasure centers activated, sending a pulse of euphoria through her entire body. Her eyelids fluttered as the rush pleasure washed over her, and one hand came up to absent-mindedly stroke one stiff, diamond-hard nipple. David noticed, and the young man grinned.

"I love your tits, Detective," David stated bluntly, and Monica had gathered herself enough to at least try to deny the excitement that hit her upon hearing this acknowledgement, her arm shifting back down to her side. But it didn't work, as despite the scowl on her face, a wave of pure liquid heat cascaded through her body upon earning the young stud's approval, spreading from her core out to her extremities, making her entire body feel alive. "I love big tits, and yours might be the best I've ever seen, Detective. I confess I've been thinking about them every fucking day since you walked into my life. And every woman I've hooked up with since... Juliet, those sluts at the gym, Sara Beth, Sandra, Dana, and so many others... as hot as they all are, it's you I've been imaging in their place. You saw footage of me with Dana... but I really wasn't fucking her. I was fucking you. I wanted YOU. And as fun as they all were, I just know the real thing would be even better than the fantasy. None of them compare to you, Detective..."

It was a lot to take in at once, and even as hearing even more approvals of her and her big tits lit up her pleasure centers, she couldn't turn her cop brain off completely. She'd gained new information. This was huge news!

"Wait, you hooked up with your lawyer?" she asked, before asking the more important question. "And you're fucking the District Attorney?" David looked at her like she was stupid.

"What do you think?" he said with a knowing smirk, his tone condescending, chastising her for having not realized it sooner. He was right. In retrospect, it was kind of obvious. Sara Beth and Sandra... she had known them both for years. Both of them had been confident, professional women committed to the cause of justice, just like Monica, at least once upon a time. But they had both been acting completely out of character by being so close to a douchebag like David... Sara Beth had defended him during the police interview, and then Monica actually caught Sandra out on a date with David, making goo-goo eyes at him all night across the fucking table! Looking back, understanding more about David, it was so clear what was actually going on. She felt stupid for not putting it together before, inwardly acknowledging that he was correct to chastise her for missing the signs. She was a detective, after all.

"Of course..." she admitted sheepishly, looking away as David stared her down knowingly. But in this moment, she regathered herself. The sight of her tits immediately had him letting slip some truths he hadn't before. So, David Delvecchio had a secret personal relationship with Port Metro's chief prosecutor, one of the city's highest-ranking law enforcement officers? This was potentially a huge scandal by itself! Despite the inner turmoil, her plan had been effective. She needed to keep pressing. She needed to go on the attack. She needed to lean into the energy of the moment and ramp up the pressure. And in the moment, what had seemed to be effective was David thinking he was in charge. That his bullshit was breaking her down. That he was winning her over. Unfortunately, this moment of success was directly aligned with the moments where Monica's bimbo side reared its head. Maybe... she couldn't believe she was even considering this... perhaps she needed to let that side of her take charge for a while. Not fully... that would only end catastrophically... but maybe her instincts were trying to tell her something. Maybe if David saw the bimbo emerging, she could make him think he was winning, only to yank the carpet out from under him at the last moment.

Taking a breath, she let go of the inner defenses holding her worst instincts at bay, letting them flood into her system at long last, drowning everything she thought was good and pure and right. The cop inside Monica held on for dear life as the rushing waves of lust, desire and depravity threatened to consume her, trying to hold onto herself as the seasoned, hard-bitten detective receded into the background.

"So... you imagined me in their place?" Monica asked in a purr, the words rising from within her unbidden. Her bimbo side savored this moment in charge, her plump, pouting lips twisting into a smirk. Riding this crest of excitement, she sauntered slowly towards the younger man, strutting in such a way as to make her massive, bare tits jiggle lusciously.

"Mm-hm," he responded, nodding, his eyes watching her wobbling tits approvingly as she approached. "But don't pretend that you weren't doing the same thing when I sent you all that shit. Don't pretend you weren't jealous of Dana for being the lucky one who got to be on the receiving end of my big cock..."

Monica's fiery exterior wanted to deny this wildly inaccurate claim, but her bimbo side was at the forefront now.

"Hmm... Maybe a little," she purred again, tentatively stepping forward between his spread legs, this small acquiescence to her worst instincts sending a jolt of anticipation through her, only encouraging her to take another step towards him. Then another. David grinned as a new thought hit him.

"If you'd greeted me this way the first time we met, I would have started co-operating... on the spot," he admitted with a smile. Dueling for control, the cop part of Monica rolled her eyes, but the bimbo side of her reacted differently.

"Oh yeah? If I'd walked in here and pulled out my big tits at the table right next to my partner, you seriously would have talked?" Monica said with a skeptical grin. Using the word 'tits' always seemed like such a crass way to describe her breasts, but the more she said it to play along with David, the more she found the use of that word shockingly satisfying and apt. She DID have tits. Big, fat, juicy, round tits... She suspected she might keep using that word in the future, now that she understood that. Own the fact that she had big tits, just as David suggested.

"I would have sung like a bird for you, Detective," he claimed. "But the longer you've dragged this out, the steeper the cost became. I told you... you were making it so much harder for yourself. If I had this gorgeous, sexy detective flash her jugs at me on the spot, on day one... you would have been through with me right then and there. I would have told you anything you wanted to know. Your own personal window into the Delvecchio crime family. But I suppose I'm glad you didn't..." he said, admiring the sight of the topless detective standing in front of him, the sight so much sweeter given how much work he put into this, the long weeks of waiting, of priming her, and how much she had tried to deny this would ever happen, every step of the way.

"And what if I did... this?" Monica asked, her voice a conspiratorial whisper as she leaned towards him. It was almost as if she were watching this all play out from behind a window, her body seemingly moving of its own accord, her bimbo side asserting control now that it was granted a temporary reprieve. Resting her hands on the back of the couch on either side of David's head allowed Monica to move in close, hanging her enormous bare tits right in front of his face, nipples standing stiff and straight at attention, jiggling with every small move she made. They were so close, he could smell the girly scent emanating from her skin, whatever lotion or perfumes she applied before coming here filling his nostrils and sending a rush of excitement through him. David couldn't look away from the insane sight being presented to him as her titties took up the entirety of his vision, a vista so few were blessed to look upon that he didn't want to miss a moment of it. But he found the strength to glance up just long enough to look Monica in the eyes as he spoke.

"I don't think I ever could have STOPPED talking if I was staring at these..." he growled, his gaze returning to her bare chest.

"And what if..." Monica began, her voice so heavy and lust-filled that it almost didn't feel like her own. With David watching avidly, she pulled a hand from its place over his shoulder and brought it up to one giant, heavy breast, palming her obscenely large udder and squeezing it firmly, kneading it, her nimble fingers digging it into the luscious, doughy flesh. David couldn't help but let a groan escape from his throat as he watched the pliant titty-flesh ooze between her fingers. "What if I let you do this...?"

Even the confident, totally self-controlled David had to take a moment to process the thought, so much so that Monica could see the effect she was having on him and felt a surge of triumph, even as her system was flushed with bimbo energy. Despite how much she resented having to act this way, flaunting her body, using it as a tool, objectifying herself for this smug, cocky piece of shit... she couldn't deny the results, and her objections were drowned out as her bimbo side proved to be far more effective at getting through to David than her detective side ever was.

"I would have told you anything you wanted to hear..." David said, his voice distant, eyes glassy, distracted by the incredible sight in front of him. It drove Monica crazy, a wave of satisfaction coursing through her as she saw the way David was so enraptured by her body. Just feeling her eyes on her naked flesh in itself was exhilarating, reminding her of the dark thrill she always got when she was naked on stage, and all the pangs of excitement she'd felt in their weeks working out together. She really did crave the feeling of being admired... stared at... gawked at. Ever since her time undercover, it had driven her crazy, and despite spending the years since denying it, keeping the goods covered up, keeping the bimbo side down... it was clear that such hungers had never gone away. They were still there, lingering just beneath the surface, caged up, desperate to be fed. Every step of this whole perverse rivalry between herself and David had been giving her a taste of something forbidden and sinful, and now this was the culmination of all that teasing and flirtation: the younger man feasting on the sight of her nearly-naked body, the bimbo let out of its cage, Monica struggling to hold onto its leash.

"You want to touch them... don't you?" she teased him, taunting him by squeezing her heaving breast firmly, the flesh bulging between her fingers, ballooning outward, pinching her nipple and twisting it, sighing softly at the feeling. David's eyes bugged out, breathing deep as he watched Monica fondle herself. Her tits still hung inches from his face, each minor movement making them sway and jiggle, bringing those perfect nipples within reach of his lips...

"You have no idea..." David admitted, his voice distant as he stared at Monica's tits. He was on the hook.

This could be it! She could win this right here and now.

"Would you talk if I promised to let you feel them now?" Monica asked, the cutesy voice dissipating slightly as her cop side resumed control. For a moment, the desperation in David's eyes made him look downright vulnerable. This was a guy who had always presented as endlessly confident, mature beyond his years... but in the moment, he'd never looked more like a boy who would do anything to land a pretty girl. But as Monica took herself slightly out of the moment to pose this crucial question, her change of tone triggered something in his subconscious, and it was enough to snap him out of it, pulling him from his reverie. Regathering himself, David looked up at Monica, keenly aware of the way she was trying to manipulate him.

"I would have back then, Detective..." David finally replied. "But you missed your shot. And now... I think I need a little more."

Monica scowled at this response, letting her hand fall from her bare breast and pushing herself away from the couch, standing up straight in front of him again.

"You are so fucking annoying!" she spat out angrily. The bimbo was gone in an instant, Monica already back in full-cop mode again. "You've been drooling over my tits since the moment we met! You've been gawking at them... staring at them... fantasizing about them... and now, I give you the chance to get your hands on the goods, and you refuse!" She was furious that he had again upset her plans, and sensing an opportunity to attack his masculinity, she leapt at the chance. "What kind of man gets the opportunity to get their hands on a pair of big, perfect TITS like these... and says NO? What kind of pussy does that?"

"I don't know, ask your partner!" David fired back pointedly, his retort hitting Monica like a slap in the face. Because she knew he was right. Everything she'd just said about David... really applied to Joel. She had essentially echoed David's own frat-bro philosophy, childishly attacking his masculinity, describing the type of behavior that would make a man a pussy... but in her effort to denigrate David, she'd more accurately described Joel. She felt in that moment some of the residual frustration still simmering within her over Joel blowing it after their romantic date. She was still furious at him! Maybe David didn't know what had happened between her and Joel in that apartment, but he'd accurately surmised the real roots of her frustration... which sounded more like Joel than himself. Joel probably didn't think of himself as a wimp, a pussy, a total beta cuck... but he kinda was. Sure, he dressed it up with words like respect and friendship. He and Monica both told themselves that it was for a good reason that Joel didn't leap at the opportunity to grope her breasts as soon as he got her back to his apartment. Their relationship was complex, and important, more important than any momentary satisfaction or base lust. He wanted to clear the air between them, and he had to do it for the sake of their partnership and their relationship. And in doing so, he lost his opportunity to take her and ravage her, make her scream, and get his rocks off. But David... he withheld on putting those big hands of his on her tits for entirely different reasons. He did it because he was angling for more. For him, it was all about opportunity and leverage. Seeing that his dig at Joel had hit home more than he could have possibly known, with Monica shrinking before his gaze, he pressed the advantage. "You know, Detective... I told your partner exactly what I had planned for you that first day we all met."

"W-what?" Monica stammered, taken aback by this revelation. David nodded.

"Uh-huh," he grinned. "As soon as your perfect ass sauntered out the front door, I told him what I wanted to do to you. What I fully intended to do to you. How all of this was going to end up, if you didn't back off and give up your pathetic investigation. And trust me, I went into very explicit detail." David paused, letting that fact sink in before continuing. "You want to know why I told him? Because I could tell right away that he was a spineless little beta, who was so cowed by you that he would be too scared to say a word about it. I knew those words would sink into his brain and fuck with him, deep down, and I knew there wasn't a goddamn thing he could do about it. And I knew he was incapable of telling you what I'd said. He wouldn't want you to even consider the idea of giving in to me, because he knew deep down, he couldn't compete. Detective... even HE knows that he's the beta, and I'm the alpha. Look at his behavior, it's all the proof you need."

"No, you didn't... You're lying..." Monica murmured, disgusted by the thought that the younger man could have done this. But on a deeper level, she was ashamed that there was a ring of truth to his words, that she really could imagine him sitting there and telling Joel to his face that he was going to end up fucking his partner... She knew David well by now, and that kind of boastful braggadocio sounded exactly like him. And that meant there was now even more validity to the argument that Joel was a spineless beta. The evidence was certainly stacking up. David nodded knowingly, leaving very little doubt in Monica that he was telling the truth.

"You know, Joel started parking outside the gym on the mornings when we were working out together?" David pushed further. "My driver spotted him. While you were in the gym, wearing those sexy outfits all for me... Your partner was outside in his car, just hoping for a glimpse of what I got to see. Did he ever mention that to you?"

Monica was baffled. If what David said was true, it made Joel look really fucking desperate and pathetic. Why hadn't he mentioned this during their fight the other night, when they'd supposedly come clean and cleared the air between them? Again, something about the way the younger man stated it all as fact didn't ring as false, even to the experienced Detective, leaving Monica searching for a reasonable explanation.

"Maybe... maybe he was making sure I was safe. Protecting me..." Monica suggested meekly. Confronted with all this damning evidence; while still standing practically naked in front of David, she felt exposed in every way possible. David swatted away her attempt at justification as easily as he had deflected her blows in their sparring sessions.

"No way," David replied. "He knew what was going on between us. He felt it. Maybe he'd say that's what he was doing, protecting you, staking out the scene... but c'mon, we both know the truth. He just wanted to see the way you dressed up for me. He just wanted a peek at perfection, like the sad little beta he is. He's a man, Monica. He's just as shameless and horny as I am... but he doesn't have what it takes to actually do something about it. He doesn't have the guts to handle a woman like you. Not like I can." At this he gestured at her near-nude form, and on some level, Monica couldn't disagree. In over ten years of knowing Joel, he'd never gotten her anywhere close to this level of undress. If he loved her, if he wanted her... he could have made it clear years ago. But his failure to act was rooted in the type of wimpy, limp-dicked cuck behavior that had really become more apparent as of late. She suspected it was easier to see now because of the sharp contrast with David... The younger man's commanding, alpha behavior allowed him to accomplish in a matter of weeks what Joel couldn't do after more than a decade.

David fucking Delvecchio was indeed VERY good at this...

"A beta like Joel would be satisfied with one squeeze of your big tits..." David said pointedly. "He'd probably cum in his pants on the spot. But I'm a better man than he is... Isn't that right, Detective?" Monica looked away, embarrassed on her partner's behalf. But being in the position she was in, and with the evidence stacking up, Monica saw no other choice but to agree.

"Yes..." she relented, feeling bad for even saying it. Whatever happened here... she would deal with the ramifications later. She would talk it through with Joel. The things he'd hidden from her, the sneaking around... She'd give him a chance to explain that everything he did was for a good reason, and allow him the chance to prove he wasn't as pathetic of a beta as he sounded. But he knew that she had to just say what David wanted to hear. "You're a better man..."

"But I want so much more than that, Detective... I want it all!" he claimed decisively, the confidence in his voice making the detective shiver. She'd dammed off all those bimbo desires, holding them back as she addressed him as a cop, but his commanding tone caused that dam to spring a leak, letting those bimbo tendencies seep back into her system again, affecting her judgment. It was as if his voice itself was enough to activate the bimbo within. When he spoke, she wanted to just fall in line and obey. She wasn't thinking straight. As his words echoed in her head, she couldn't deny the effect they had on her. Compared to what she was used to from other men, the fearless, unshakable self-assuredness in David's voice was SUCH a turn-on. He wasn't intimidated by her in the slightest...

And it was so fucking HOT!

"What do you want, David...?" Monica asked, struggling to keep it together, her voice losing all its bite as her head swam with endorphins.

"I'm not going to beg to touch you, Detective," he began. "If you want it so bad, I want YOU to beg for it! I want you to admit how much you want it! I want you on your knees admitting how bad you want my hands on your body." Monica's pulse was throbbing in her ears as the younger man's words spoke directly to her bimbo-self, as if he was playing her like an instrument, knowing exactly which notes to hit.

"Not gonna happen..." Monica replied weakly, breathing deep, her bare tits rising and falling, her nipples standing at attention. She was so wet at this point that her thong was fucking soaked and juices trickled down the inside of her bare thigh.

"But most of all," David continued, undeterred, "I want you to fucking dance!"

"What?" Monica asked, her addled, overwhelmed mind confused.

"You're giving me a lap dance, Detective," he reminded her impatiently, talking down to the older woman. "So, why aren't you fucking dancing?" His words were firm and clear and aggressive, his masculine, dominant tone making her bimbo side swoon. The cop had been back at the forefront for a moment, but everything he'd said since then, about Joel, about her, about himself... it had all coaxed her bimbo nature back to the surface. Her body was tingling, her head was swimming, confused and conflicted thoughts leaving her speechless. She'd never been felt this disoriented... this out of focus... this fuzzy... which was all she needed to confirm that her dumb, slutty, bimbo side had assumed priority inside her.

"Oh... sorry..." Monica apologized, responding to his rough tone by assuming fault, her cop side so dizzy with bimbo desires by this point that she couldn't even rise to her own defense. The bimbo was at the wheel again, and she couldn't help but agree with David. This was a lap dance... she should be dancing. How could she have been so stupid as to forget that?

The beat of the song playing over the speakers echoed in her ears, so she closed her eyes and let the beat fill her mind and body. Locking in again, she raised her arms up and stepped forward, rolling her hips as she began to move. She spun around, shaking her ass for him again as she stood between his spread legs, swaying slowly, sensuously, seductively, then turning and giving him a good view of her bare tits jiggling as she worked it for him. David sat back, practically licking his lips in satisfaction.

"You really are good at this, Detective..." David admired, his eyes on her massive melons as she dragged her hands up her abdomen, cupping them, hefting them, then letting them drop and bounce lewdly before his eyes. "You see how hard you get me?" he asked. Granted permission, having forgotten her earlier choice to steer the focus away from his manhood, she let her eyes fall to his crotch, and even in her slightly dazed state, her eyes went wide.

"Jesus, David!" the ice-cold detective effused, eyes glued to his clothed manhood, it's size and length apparent even through his thin suit-pants.

"I think you like making me hard, Detective," David pointed out, looking up at her. Still facing him, Monica danced in place, her hips rolling, her massive tits bouncing side-to-side as her eyes stayed glued on David's imposing bulge. "This is all thanks to you. A months-long police investigation, and your single standout achievement is getting my cock stiffer than an iron bar. I think you got off on dressing up for me at the gym all those weeks. I bet you always enjoyed working it for men and making them drool. With that body, it would be impossible not to enjoy the reaction you got. That's what I've been telling you. Is that why you avoided dancing for me for so long? Didn't want me to know how much you'd enjoy it?"

Monica said nothing. Her head was buzzing. She knew better. The cop within wanted again to come to her own defense, but her bimbo side wouldn't let her. That part of her was drinking up every filthy claim David made about her. In that moment, Monica embodied every aspect of the bimbo nature she'd been trying to suppress since her days undercover. The part of her that enjoyed stripping, enjoyed exposing her body for a crowd of men. Enjoyed the knowledge that she was responsible for making men rock-fucking-hard. And when every word he said hit those parts of her subconscious directly, she retained only enough self-control to say nothing instead of openly confirming it.

"Turn around..." David commanded. "Twerk. Twerk for my cock."

Thankful for any excuse to look away from the monster in his lap, she quickly obeyed. Spinning around, she spread her straight legs as she leaned forward, hands on her knees, bouncing her ass as she stood in place. Standing between his legs, her ass was pointed directly at his weapon, obeying the younger man's command to the letter, dancing for his big cock.

"That's it, Detective, that's it..." David grunted approvingly, his lust-filled masculine growl energizing the busty cop. Bouncing on her knees, she started to really throw her thong-clad ass back for him, like some girl in a rap video. And in the midst of it all, she couldn't help but look back over her shoulder as she worked it, seeing the lust painted across the younger man's face, before her eyes fell to his straining bulge again. It was just so big... she couldn't be blamed for staring.

"I bet you always enjoyed it a little more when the men you danced for were really big... didn't you?" David inquired pointedly. Monica tried to say nothing, but the bimbo couldn't stop herself from replying.

"Ugh... YES!" she admitted, her voice heated, her body coated with sweat as she danced for David. In her days giving private dances for men, it didn't take a keen detective's eye to just tell which men were packing. Vibes alone were usually enough for her to figure it out. And in the heat of the moment, she couldn't deny that those men usually got better performances from her than all the other, lesser men.

"How's mine compare to all those other guys?" David asked, ramping up the pressure. Again, given the excuse to stare, she glanced at David's crotch once again from over her shoulder as she shook her ass, his lengthy bulge clear as day through his pants. Jesus... he really was fucking huge.

"Fuck! It's bigger! Way bigger!" Monica confessed. Her normal demeanor had been completely handcuffed and suppressed, as her bimbo side was controlling her. Things were moving faster now, accelerating, intensifying, and Monica's better judgment felt sluggish and slow to catch up. If she'd been on the ball, she would have never admitted such a thing to David. She would have never gotten tricked into talking about his cock again. But it was too late for that. She could feel the whole operation spiraling WAY out of control. Crazy to think that mere minutes ago, she thought she was on the verge of winning, and getting David to finally open up and talk.

"That's it, Detective! That's it!" David snarled, grinning, noting how Monica's dancing had her moving closer and closer to his straining bulge, her hips lifting and dropping, lifting and dropping, her cheeks bouncing and clapping, her thong-stuffed ass-crack now dangerously close to making contact with the tented mass in his lap. Monica could sense it too, but she couldn't resist its pull. If she didn't stop, contact would be made... SOON!

David could feel that moment approaching too, and he watched her lovely, perfect, heart-shaped ass getting closer and closer to his prick. It was just like that day at the gym, in the squat rack. She was giving in... She was so close... But then, suddenly struck by a bit of inspiration, he stopped her.

"Okay, that's enough!" David called out, holding up both hands, as if giving up. But Monica was in such a groove, she ignored him. She didn't slow down. "Detective!" David shouted, his voice rising over the thudding bass that fueled her dancing, and it was finally enough to get through to her. Her body slowed to a stop, but it took her a moment for her mind to catch up. Looking slightly confused, she took a halting step away from him. Breathing deeply, looking somewhat befuddled at how far this whole thing had gone, she turned to face him again, her eyes flicking nervously between his face and his crotch.

It was like slamming the brakes on a moving car. The bimbo side of her had the gas pedal to the floor, and the longer it went on, the more dangerously out of control the car became. But thankfully, David had thrown up a stop sign, and with the car idling in neutral, Monica's better thinking was able to re-assert itself.

"What... is it?" she asked, feeling dazed but relieved that he'd slowed down the action, her pulse still thundering in her ears right beneath the all-consuming beat of the pounding music.

"This has gone on long enough," David explained. "But you wanted things to reach a conclusive ending, so I have a proposition for you."

"What... do you mean?" she asked, still catching her breath, her bare tits rising and falling, her cop personality rising to the surface through the bimbo fog clouding her mind.

"I have to remind you, this is a lap dance, and you're still curiously avoiding my lap," he pointed out. "If you were trying to get hired here as a dancer, I'd be... unimpressed. Trust me, I know exactly why you're keeping your distance, Detective. But that doesn't change the fact that you're not getting what you want... until I get what I want. So... I propose we cut to the chase, because we both know where this is going, so I say let's just get it over with. You plant that perfect ass of yours in my lap. Right here!" he said firmly, planting his large hand over his bulging shaft, squeezing it through his pants. This lewd sight, combined with his bold compliment of her sublime ass, sent another precision bolt of lust through her body, even as she tried to focus on what he was saying. "You sit on my lap. I want to feel that ass against me, just like I did that day at the gym. Just get all up on me and really grind against it. You only have to do it for the length of one song. If you can last the entire time and get up off my lap when it's done, your work will be done, and you can ask me any question you want. I'll be an open book. I'll give you whatever answers you want about the Chapin case, my family, my brothers... But if you don't make it, if you can't just pull yourself from my lap when the song ends... Well, then, I think we both know what'll happen next." His firm gaze made his last point very clear, and Monica couldn't help but gasp at the implication, at his boldness.

David knew it was a risk stopping her in her tracks like this. A bold, reckless risk. They were at a crossroads. She could decide she was done and walk out right then, just as she was getting close to ending up pressed against him again... but that was the point. He didn't want this moment to be able to be written off by the cop as an accident, or something imposed on her by him. She clearly had done that with their close encounter at the gym, spinning her little justifications, allowing her to evade the blame for what she'd done. But not here. If he wanted to really break her will, he had to make her a party to her own downfall. He couldn't allow her to deflect any of the blame. She had to choose to put herself on his lap. She had to have incentive to do so, beyond pure lust. She clearly still had enough clarity of mind not to put herself in such a precarious position for no good reason. But if he gave her a little nudge, if she thought she had a good excuse to plant her basically bare ass right in his lap, she would do it.

Monica couldn't help but recall the first time her ass and David's cock really got to know each other. At the gym, feeling his straining bulge against her ass completely penetrated her defenses, shattering her armor and leaving her more vulnerable that she'd ever been before. Feeling that rock-hard, powerful, throbbing sex organ of his completely changed the vibe of the moment, transforming it from a police investigation to a moment dripping with erotic tension. Knowing that her body was responsible for getting him hard, feeling his desire, his lust for her given form... that moment of close contact transferred those feelings through into her. She was suddenly driven crazy with lust and need, a feeling which only her bimbo side knew how to process, that part of her rising to the surface and stealing control from her for the first time in almost a decade, right there in the middle of a public gym.

She still remembered the feeling of the younger man's cock pressing into her, a sensation that she would never be able to forget. He was just so fucking hard! And it felt gigantic pressed between her ass cheeks. Big... and thick... he was so turned on she could feel it throbbing against her ass. The feeling of her firm, full rear-end pressed against such a massive, perfect, dream cock... it drove her a little insane! And if they hadn't been in public, or if it had gone on a little longer, who knows what could have happened. She honestly didn't know if she would have still been able to pull herself away from it, or if she would have kept herself pressed against it until something snapped inside her. Would he have taken her, right then, right there, in the empty gym, if she'd asked him to? Fuck, the thought alone was so hot... With how profound that moment remained in her memory, she still didn't know what would have happened next. But what she did know is that it forever altered the course of this investigation.

Now, he was challenging her to relive history. To plant her perfect ass against his gigantic cock once again, but with even less fabric between them this time. His thin, gray dress pants did nothing to hide his size, his wrist-thick meat pointed up towards his waist, his dick so hard that it was stretching his pants up over his belt, as this was the only way it could have room to grow to full size. This allowed his full length to be appreciated through the pants in excruciating detail. Its position made his lap look like a distressingly appetizing seat to Monica, knowing that shaft of his would fit perfectly in her ass-crack. And that's what he wanted. The experienced cop sitting on his lap. Her ass-crack swallowing up his shaft. To feel her thong-clad ass grinding against his massive, straining, rock-hard dick. That was the devil's offer he'd made. If she could do... that... for the long length of one song without losing her mind with uncontrollable lust, she could finally get the answers she'd been seeking. This was seemingly the moment she'd been waiting for. The opportunity for victory. But the cost was steep.

He was asking her to do the one thing she promised not to do. She'd told herself before coming to the club for this 'performance' that she had to stay far away from that massive, perfect, powerful cock of his at all costs. She recalled quite clearly the severe, mind-melting effect it had had on her that day at the gym. Even her brush against it outside the restaurant had her reeling. Clearly, its power was quite potent, and she'd vowed to keep her distance. And so far, other than a few close calls, she'd done that to perfection, even as her mind replayed that moment at the gym over and over.

But here and now, even as she'd worked at keeping her distance, it had begun to consume her attention, a telltale sign of its potent and intoxicating appeal. She was still drawn to it, despite her best efforts. She still remembered exactly what that cock had done to her before, even through their clothing. She'd gone dumb, that weapon of his sending insane levels of pleasure through her body, almost fully reducing her to a brainless bimbo, craving more. She had retained enough control to put a stop to it back at the gym, but here, in bimbo territory, doing bimbo things, with just a tiny thong and a pair of boots on, all worked up after what felt like hours of dancing and teasing... she had no doubt she was in a far more vulnerable state than she'd been when she was caught off-guard at the gym. She could feel her blood pumping at the thought of it. She was already anticipating the feeling of that big, thick perfect cock pressed against her practically bare ass.

The danger was clear, but the prize was within arm's reach. That prize being victory, of course, conquering David and finally gaining the information she'd been seeking. Justice for the slain mayor. A breakthrough in the case that had haunted her for months. A major player in the Delvecchio criminal empire, offering up everything he knew.

This was what she'd been gearing up for. What she'd been readying herself for. This was it. The true battle of wills reaching its conclusion. This wasn't exactly a good deal, but the fact that it didn't require her to do something even more wicked with him meant that it was about the best deal she could hope for. And the best part was, she was coming into it with an advantage. Much like when she'd prematurely made her own offer a few minutes prior, the question itself was enough to break the spell and clear her head. Now, she was thinking with her cop brain. She was putting up the mental guardrails. She was as ready as she could possibly be. So, either David had let impatience get the better of him, and made an error in pitching this offer to her now... or he was supremely confident of victory, certain that his cock would reduce her to a quivering, brainless bimbo once again.

Monica knew it was a risk, but with victory so close, she was tempted to do it. Tempted to plant her ass right on his big, fat, dick and prove him wrong. She wasn't saying this just because she was super horny and desperately in need of sexual satisfaction after weeks... months... of abstaining. Even though her body was exposed, standing in a thong with her big tits hanging out, she was thinking clearly, fully in detective mode now.

Her best qualities were at the forefront.

Monica was ready for this. She trusted her iron will. Almost fifteen years as a cop, plus being raised in a house where justice and respect for the law were paramount... when it came down to control between her cop brain and her inner bimbo... her defenses sometimes strained, but they never broke. She was more of a cop than she was a bimbo, even if David clearly thought otherwise. That was the core conflict between the two, and within five minutes, one of them would be proven right. This could all be over in five fucking minutes. The whole case. She could prove her confidence was well-founded, that she had been right to come here, that she had been right to conceal this operation from Joel... and she could finally dunk on this smug motherfucker once and for all by proving him wrong.

Was she actually about to do this?

Monica couldn't believe it, but she found herself stepping towards him again, standing so close her shins kissed the front of the couch.

"A deal's a deal?" Monica asked with a raised eyebrow, her demeanor firmly in full ice-queen cop mode as she confirmed his offer.

"I swear to God," David replied, barely containing his elation that he might really have Monica on the hook. But even as she scowled down at him, clearly ready to win, putting her best face forward, David wasn't worried. His attention was on her glowing, sweat-covered skin. And the tiny triangle of her baby-blue thong, which looked absolutely soaked. And he stared hungrily her bare tits, her chest still rising and falling, her nipples looking so hard they could cut glass. She might be acting like she didn't really want to sit on his lap, but she was clearly very excited for the excuse do it.

"Fine! Deal!" Monica spat out.

"Deal..." he agreed with that smug grin of his.

Monica couldn't believe she'd agreed to his ridiculous offer. If she wasn't so obsessed with scoring a win over David, she would chide herself for allowing things to ever get this far. Given her experience, she should have been setting the pace of the investigation, but for some reason, she was the one having to go along with the cocky younger man's every whim, as he confidently asserted control from the start. With their age difference, this whole thing had the backwards dynamic a teacher getting bossed around by her student. She was reminded for the millionth time that David had still been in middle school when Monica was already a rookie cop. And while the inverted power dynamic between the two had Monica buzzing at how perverse it all was... the thought of how his unshakeable confidence had made the experienced older woman bend to his will... that wasn't why she'd agreed to do this.

It wasn't the bimbo who was taking David's deal. Even though she could still feel her presence, and hear her voice, even though her body was hyped up, and her blood was pumping with sexual need, it was the clear-minded cop that was going along with this risky plan, the decorated detective ready to do what it took to get the job done. And while she felt like she should be nervous, as soon as she agreed to his deal, she felt excited. Freed from any stress. Besides, the idea that this was a greater risk for her than for him was absurd. She was in the position of power. She was the dancer, teasing his constrained erection, driving him wild. If anyone was going to break, it was him. Not her.

This was the moment of truth, and she was ready to lock in, get in the zone, tap into her reserves of strength and willpower, and do whatever was necessary to emerge victorious. People were counting on her. The city was counting on her.

This was a battle of wills, and hers had never felt stronger.

Over the speaker, they could both hear the song that was currently playing nearing its end. Nonetheless, Monica let the rhythm of it fill her as she readied herself, moving slightly as she spun around again, pointing her ass at him. She leaned over slightly, pushing her butt out so her thong-clad ass was now hovering over his crotch. Glancing down, she noted that the length of his throbbing bulge was pressed against his body, his length stretching his thin pants so taut that she could practically make out the veins running along its surface, enough that the bulging head of it was near his belly button, so at least she wasn't about to impale herself by sitting on his lap.

Maybe it was the close proximity, but David's manhood had never looked bigger. Pressed against his thin suit-pants, the length of it, its thickness, its power... it was VERY evident. She was about to plant her ass against that MONSTER! Monica couldn't believe how terrifyingly big it appeared. She'd spied it out plenty of times over the weeks and months they'd known each other, so she knew its shape well, but it had never looked quite this huge. This alone gave her pause.

As the song faded down, part of her wanted to abort the whole plan. This was stupid. This was a mistake! A huge mistake. A thick, lengthy, perfect mistake. She was putting herself in the sights of his mighty weapon, and if it all went wrong, she'd have no one to blame but herself. But there was no way out. That big, perfect cock of his was between Monica and the pursuit of justice. The way this whole thing was going, she wouldn't be able to avoid it forever. And she wouldn't ever be as prepared as she was right now. She could outlast David. She could win this thing. She believed in herself, in her code as a police officer, in her true nature as a just, moral person. The good side of her, the cop side, the angel on her shoulder, it was sending nothing but faith and support, enough so that the voice of the bimbo inside her couldn't be heard anymore. Monica always believed justice would win out, and as big and long of a... risk as this was... she truly believed that it would all work out the way it was meant to.

David simply watched, the detective's perfect, juicy, practically bare ass poised over his weapon. The moment was here, and as confident as the cop was in her chances of victory, he was equally confident he'd be proven right about her, that he'd come out of this victorious. This was what he was waiting for, what he'd been working towards, and he, more than any other man, felt equipped to get the job done. He'd already achieved something amazing... coercing this ice-queen detective to dance for him like a slut and strip down to practically nothing. And now, he'd convinced her that it was a good idea to take a seat on his big dick. And for all that work, he was ready to be rewarded.

The first beat of the next song began, and Monica could probably have been excused for giving herself a few seconds before sitting in the younger man's lap. But like a weapon firing into the air to start a race, as soon as it went off, the race was on, and Monica was so confident she would win that she leapt out of the gates. Upon that first beat, within a second of the song starting, Monica let her ass drop onto David's lap like a hydraulic press, her full weight landing on David's hefty bulge, the length of his cock wedging into her ass-crack. For the third time, David's massive, dangerous cock was wedging into her rear end... her firm juicy ass pressing against his rock-hard weapon.

And immediately, Monica realized that she'd made a terrible mistake.

Upon contact, the feeling of that thick, beefy prick pressing into her thong-clad ass sent a lightning strike of lust through her near-naked form that was so profound that it shook her to her core, crumbling all her defenses like they were nothing, sending her mind a million different directions. A moan rose in her throat, eager to escape from her plump lips, but she screwed her mouth shut and just barely contained it. But that didn't make reckoning with the impact any easier.

It just felt so FUCKING GOOD!

The first time his cock and her ass met, it was a quick meeting, his manhood brushing against her ass as they tussled, and that was enough to leave her shaken in the aftermath. The second time was at the gym, where David took advantage of close quarters and manufactured a scenario where Monica almost had to press her ass against his big fucking dick. And while she had allowed herself to succumb in the moment, it was a tentative act compared to this. This time... it was left completely up to her to make contact, and that made its effect so much more potent.

With his big juicy dick swelling against her ass, barely contained through his thin pants, and with her wearing nothing but a thong, there was almost nothing preventing her from feeling the full force of his weapon. And within a split second, she realized she might not be able to shield herself from its power. It was just SO big! And so FUCKING THICK! It truly did feel even bigger than before, and its size was so fucking impressive that it was immediately obvious his cock was bigger and better than she had given him credit for. She'd judged other women for going gaga over David, but now sitting here on his lap, really feeling what he was working with... Monica totally got it. She understood completely. The length of his cock lodged into her ass-crack so firmly she could practically feel the blood pumping through the thick veins running down his mighty shaft, even though his pants. It was a distressingly perfect fit.

As if this was meant to be.

"Ooohhh my God!" Monica groaned out, unable to contain it anymore. She'd readied her defenses for this very moment, but those walls were under assault by an artillery bombardment they hadn't been designed to withstand, and they were getting pummeled into dust. It was like she was facing down a loaded shotgun, and her bulletproof vest was just a lacy thong. There was nothing she could have done to ready herself for this feeling, even though she knew it was coming. There was no preparation that could have protected her from a weapon of that caliber. She realized any attempt to convince herself otherwise was foolish. It was as if she'd been lying to herself all along in order to end up in this position.

Could Monica trust herself? Had the experienced police officer lost control of her own actions? Which Monica was truly at the wheel? The cop side of her had gone silent...

"Grind on it, Detective. Grind on that fucking dick," David urged her. Dazed, overwhelmed, seeing lights behind her eyes, she could do nothing but obey the cocky younger man, slowly rocking her hips and grinding her ass all over his prominent bulge, moving up and down along its length. Immediately, the pretense of only doing this for one song disappeared. The feeling of his powerful manhood pressed against her was so all-consuming that she couldn't even hear the music. Her senses were totally overwhelmed by his big, perfect dick.

David let out a soft groan, a small hint of the incredible pleasure this was bringing him. His cock was fucking throbbing, it felt so good.

"Ugh! Fuck!" Monica sighed, her ass picking up speed as she ground against his prick. "It's so big!" She couldn't believe what she was saying, or the sultry voice she was saying it in.

"Yeah, you like that?" David asked, testing his limits by reaching forward all at once and pressing his hands against her hips, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of her hips, the thrill of more physical contact jolting her to her core. This was breaking her one rule... no touching... no touching... He was holding her against him as she ground purposefully against his cock, his fingertips gripping her silky-smooth skin easily, his big hands spreading across the expanses of naked flesh. She was so dazed she could barely hear him.

"Fuck!" the experienced older detective groaned. What was happening? Why was she doing this? Was she that stupid? She remembered the reaction his cock had caused within her before, yet she did it again! She knew this would happen! How could she have been so foolish? She knew better!

Or... perhaps the very reason she was doing this was because she knew exactly what would happen...

"How does that feel, Detective?" David groaned, but again, his question didn't get through to her she was in such a daze. So, with his own blood pumping, adrenaline coursing through his veins, he amped up the pressure. "How does it feel, bitch?"

A man calling Monica a bitch... it triggered something deep within her. Sure, she was normally so self-controlled, but she had a mean temper, and this was one of the words that always set her off. If he'd let that word slip out a single time before, she'd have slapped him in an instant. At least... she would have tried to. But she was so lost to the feeling of his cock pressing up into her ass that it somehow only amplified the heat of the moment, his lewd dirty talk that making her hiss appreciatively with lust.

"Ugh! It feels big! So fucking big!" she cried out, letting him get away with it, giving him tacit permission to keep calling her a bitch. She never would have taken that from any other man. But David wasn't any other man. Monica was trying to keep it together, the cop side inside her holding on for dear life as waves of pleasure threatened to drown her. Her pleasure centers were exploding at this close contact with such a big cock, and even cop-Monica was being consumed with desperate, all-consuming lust. She couldn't think straight. She couldn't speak. She couldn't stand up for herself. She could only reckon with the insane levels of pleasure David's big, perfect dick was bringing her.

The only part of her that could have been prepared for this was her bimbo side. Monica had put that part of her nature under wraps, sealed off from the forefront of her mind after temporarily letting it free minutes earlier. But as cop-Monica started to lose her mind, driven to a near-crazed state of lust within moments thanks to David's all-powerful cock, she realized that letting her bimbo side out for so long had left its mark on even her better nature, granting it an unexpected influence over her. Monica had kept a leash on that side of herself, even in the times it had been pulled closer to the surface thanks to David, but clearly, that was enough for the devil on her shoulder to leave his fingerprint on her, warping her mind and body each time it was allowed to breathe, blurring the line between cop and bimbo. So even as Monica kept her darkest urges in solitary confinement deep in her subconscious, David's big dick left her in such a vulnerable state that she was starting to align with the worst side of herself. She was thinking just like the bimbo did. She was hearing the bimbo's voice in her mind. She was feeling what the bimbo felt. Craving the same things. Susceptible to the same type of man. The cop and the bimbo were veering dangerously close to total agreement. The power of David's massive weapon pressing into her hadn't split apart her mind. It was slowly uniting both sides of herself.

"You like that big cock, don't you?" David asked.

"Yes! I love it! I love that big fucking cock!" Monica sighed, not sounding like herself. It was like her mind was rushing a million miles an hour she was so excited, and there was zero hope of slowing it down or reasserting control.

"How's it feel against that ass?" David asked.

"It feels amazing!" Monica gushed out, unable to hold back. She was grinding against the younger man's lap lewdly, her body moving back and forth at an increasingly quick pace, scrubbing her ass and even her thong-covered pussy against his length. She couldn't stop herself. It felt so fucking good, and for the sex-starved detective, it was exactly what she needed. She'd been trying to deny it since she'd met David and sized him up, but she could deny it no longer. Like a starving woman attacking a meal, there wasn't a force alive that could break the cock-consumed state she was in.

"How long have you been wanting this, babe?" David asked, his fingers gripping her hips, pressing her against him as she humped his big, cloth-entrapped prick, guiding her, moving her, simulating rough and dirty sex with the older woman.

"UGH! God! From the second we met!" Monica shouted. She couldn't even believe what she was saying. Although the two halves were temporarily in unison, they were still getting acquainted, and every buried thought her bimbo side held was now bursting out of her, too many buried desires that could no longer be contained, making her say things that she couldn't believe she was admitting to, unsure if they were even true. But she was saying them anyway, giving David exactly what he wanted, rambling unprovoked: "You were so fucking smug! UGH! I hated you so much! Oh! God! But the thing I hated most... AH... I hated that you had big dick energy! AH! I could just tell! I didn't even have to look... oh... but I did anyway!"

"Haha! Oh!" David groaned, her ass feeling incredible squashed into his lap as he humped against her. "I know, bitch. I know..."

Monica steadied herself against David, digging her nails into his knees, holding on for added leverage, really driving into his cock, grinding on him like she was polishing raw steel. David looked down to see her rounded cheeks flexing as she threw her thong-clad ass back against his crotch. The sight gave him an idea, and unable to hold himself back anymore, he sensed the rules had changed, giving himself permission to reach down and crisply spank the detective's bare ass with his big hand.

SPANK!

"AHHH! FUCK!" Monica moaned out, her body trembling with delight, the firm cheek of her ass jiggling in a mouthwatering fashion after the firm spank she'd been given. Even she didn't realize how much she was craving such rough treatment, but with how she was behaving, she knew she deserved to be punished.

What was happening to her? She should reject such treatment, not crave it. Not moan like a slut when the young douchebag treats her like one. She should be yelling at the obnoxious asshole, not humping against his big dick like a whore! She said no touching...

She was a cop, goddammit! She was better than this. She'd trained herself for all sorts of dangerous situations, but not this. This was the one she feared the most, because she knew she might be vulnerable to it. But she figured her better nature would win out. She was a highly distinguished detective, one of the best cops in the city. In a city of corrupt cops, she was one of the good ones. She had a list of honors and commendations as long as her arm. But humping against the big cock of youngest son of the most powerful crime family in the city while wearing only fuck-me leather boots and a tiny little thong... she certainly didn't feel like a good cop right now. She felt like a BAD cop! A corrupt cop! Corrupt not due to the influence of money or power, but due to the influence of cock. Big, powerful, meaty cock! The type of dick that makes even the most stone-cold woman lose control. And fuck... her trademark control and iron will was slipping...

It just felt SOOOO good!

Her code... her morals... her steadfast belief in law, order and justice... these were supposed to be her shields. Her protection. She built her entire life around those tenets... and in the moment, they meant nothing when faced down with David Delvecchio's huge, powerful cock. Instead of providing protection, she was left naked, figuratively and literally. All that mattered was the pleasure coursing through her veins. All that mattered was the mighty, steel-hard weapon pressing into the cleft of her ass, crushing the thong deep into her luscious crack. That's not the way a normal cop was supposed to think.

But it was the way a bimbo thought...

"Oh my God!" Monica sighed. "I can't be doing this..." she panicked, even as she continued grinding against David's swollen manhood, seeing the path of her own downfall laid out before her. Was it always like this for the bimbo? Was the pleasure always this good?

"Yes, you can, baby," David groaned. "You can and you will." To punctuate this statement...

SPANK!

David's hand crisply spanked the experienced cop's ass again, making the left cheek jiggle in the same way the right one had. Pink handprints were blooming on her creamy, pale ass-flesh, but she wasn't pulling away. What was happening to her? She wanted to get away. She was trying to pull herself away from him. Trying to ignore the bimbo thoughts. But each time he spanked her, it made those bimbo thoughts harder and harder to ignore. The cop side of her was struggling to keep a clear head.

"Ah! GOD! YES!" Monica groaned. She sat up straight, resting the full weight of her body on the young man's powerful prick so she could really savor it pressing against her. Her eyes rolled in pleasure, the cop biting her lip as she felt his size against her ass. Panting, catching her breath, Monica looked back over her shoulder at the massive prick sinking into her ass, a moment of clarity hitting her even as she continued gyrating all over David's massive dick. "Fuck... I'm in big trouble!" She said this with a wild-eyed laugh, as if confronting a dark fate with pure mania. She looked and sounded like a woman truly losing her mind.

"Damn right you are!" David growled, holding her in place as he humped against her. He couldn't help but admire the movements her massive breasts made as she rocked on his sizable shaft, swaying to and fro, crashing into each other occasionally, her nipples drawing lazy circles in the air. Even from behind, the heavy, fleshy wobbling of her breasts was mesmerizing. He'd made physical contact with her body, but those breasts were the ultimate prize for him, and as much as he wanted to do awful things to those perfect tits, he wanted to hear her beg for it first.

Monica was completely lost in the moment, awash in sinful desires that were currently bombarding her. But the last thing she said, that she was in big trouble... it seemed to set off alarm bells with her guardian angels, as a new voice hit Monica's ear out of nowhere.

"Detective Palmer!" the disembodied voice called out. "Monica! Are you okay?"

Ramirez!

To be honest, Monica had completely forgotten about her fellow officers out in the van. She forgot about the earpiece she was wearing. She had forgotten the fact that she'd been wearing a wire attached to her slutty police top, and even though it had been discarded, now resting on the couch right next to them, slightly obscured in a tangle of material, it was clearly picking up enough of what was happening here. The surveillance team could hear Monica's control slipping. They could hear Monica's will being worn down. They could hear the fact that she was grinding on David's big fat cock. They could tell it was corrupting her.

This could be her escape! The way to bail her out from the predicament she'd found herself in. The stir caused by the voice in her ear pulled her cop-self up out of the lusty haze. She'd been so lost in the moment that she could barely hear a thing, but her team in the van brought the slightest bit of focus and professionalism to the forefront. She now had a slight bit more control of herself. Things were moving too far along for her to stop, as she kept humping the younger man's swollen prick like a total slut. And with her head the slightest bit clearer, she was able to realize the song playing over the speakers had changed, meaning she'd lost the bet, as if there was any doubt of that by this point. If she didn't assert herself now, there was only one way this would end...

But this presented one last hope. She just had to give the signal, and she could have the officers in the van rush in to save her ass. They could save her from a terrible fate she now could see as clear as day. They could save her from being fully corrupted by David's weapon. They could ensure she didn't succumb to its power for good, even though it was clearly tempting her. They could rescue her and prevent her from ever ending up pressed against David's big, perfect cock again. If she called for help, she would be spared from ever facing down David's mighty pillar in all its glory. The operation had been a miserable, humiliating failure, but she could still get out and get to safety.

That's what she wanted... right?

Her salvation was clear. With her fellow officers' help, she could escape this insane situation she'd found herself in, get out of this club, clear her head, and go back to her normal life. She could retain her code, her belief system, her everything, before she was fully consumed by lust and corrupted by David. She could actually get out of here. Go back to Joel, her closest friend, the man she loved... but also the man who had backed down when he had a shot at her body, an act so baffling and off-putting that she was slowly starting to agree with David that he was a total beta. A weak-willed cuck. The difference between Joel and David had never seemed so clear, and as her ass rubbed against David's impressive bulge, his powerful manhood, the prospect of being 'rescued' from him so she could go back to Joel wasn't as appealing as it should have been. She remembered how David had crowed that even Dana, Joel's ex-wife, admitted he had a small and unimpressive cock. And Joel's simpering performance that fateful night, especially contrasted to David's masterful one he was currently putting on, left her increasingly believing the younger man's claims.

She knew better. She knew she should be rejecting this... but it felt SO GOOD! Even through his clothes, the young douchebag's immense size was driving her body absolutely insane, like nothing she'd ever felt. Monica had been in relationships before. She'd dated. She'd even had a brief lesbian fling. But she'd felt so few things that really got her blood pumping over that time as all those relationships fizzled out. Even in her time undercover, when she'd done things that drove her crazy, she wrote that off in the time since as being naïve and overwhelmed by the sex-filled atmosphere.

But this... this obscene, oversized dong between this cocky stud's legs... even through his clothes, it affected her so strongly she was on fire, erasing any doubts that she was an ice queen. David had ignited the flame that had melted her, and as warm as inviting as the heat was, she recognized the danger if that flame turned into an inferno. As amazing as his big, perfect, powerful dick felt, as strong and dangerous and exciting as it was, as huge and perfect and mind-melting as it felt, she really should see reason. She really should go back to her normal life. She really should go back to Joel. Boring is fine. Being with a beta isn't the worst thing. Big dick isn't everything. She could reject the temptation that it offered her, even knowing how good it felt. She could prove that her core values were stronger than David Delvecchio's steel-hard, lengthy weapon... by settling for far less. All she had to do was ask for help. Admit how much trouble she was in, and she would be saved. She just had to say the word...

"It's good!" Monica called out, loud enough that both David and the other cops could hear her. "It's so good!" She added with another manic laugh. She told herself that it was for the right reasons, for the sake of her case. No matter where this ended, the only way to get the answers she needed was to keep going. And she'd already come so far. Might as well see it through, no matter how deep it needed to go.

That being said, the truth was she couldn't pull herself off of him even if she wanted to. She still didn't like him. She still found him to be an obnoxious, arrogant prick. But she was so overwhelmed... so fucking desperate. There was a hunger in Monica's soul that needed to be fed, and she was so fucking hungry. And, as much as she hated David... he had exactly the slab of meat she was craving. So even as her mind tried to hold onto logic and reason for dear life, her body was working against her.

"Haha! You love that cock, don't you bitch?" David asked, his dick throbbing as the cop praised it.

"Oh God yes!" Monica screamed out, no filter between her lust-crazed mind and her mouth at this point, her cop-half so consumed with her bimbo needs that she couldn't control herself. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it!"

"Detective!" Ramirez called out desperately, her voice echoing in Monica's earpiece. "Say again! Are you sure you're okay?"

"I love it! I fucking love it!" Monica moaned out, really grinding against David's massive pillar, her ass-cheeks pressed roughly against his lap.

"Monica!" the other cop called again, trying to be as clear as possible. "Are you under duress? Do you require assistance?"

Monica had had enough of this distraction. Still grinding against David's prick, she reached up and plucked the earpiece out of her ear, holding it between her finger and thumb. Then, turning to her left, where the full glass of champagne she'd refused still sat, Monica reached over and dropped the earpiece into the glass with a clink, drowning it in the luxurious champagne, shorting it out instantly. She did the same with the wire attached to her discarded top, ripping it free from the garment and dunking it in the same glass of champagne as the earpiece.

Now, it was just Monica and David.

"Haha... don't want the cops outside to hear what's about to happen, do you?" He taunted, making it clear that he knew exactly what she'd been up to yet remained undaunted the whole time, the fact that there were cops right outside not affecting his actions in the slightest.

"And what's gonna happen?" Monica sighed, still grinding against the younger man's big dick, looking back over her shoulder at him, her face a mask of pure lust even as she tried to maintain some sense of plausible deniability. The cop inside her was somehow still at the wheel, but the car was speeding out of control, fueled by bimbo excitement, unable to reach the brakes no matter what she did.

"You know the answer," David replied confidently, grinding his dick against her. Her pussy was so wet that he could feel her juices soaking his straining crotch, but he didn't care. He loved it. "You tell me."

Monica looked away, rolling her eyes as a small smirk tweaked the corner of her lips. He was so fucking cocky, and it would be obnoxious if he wasn't always, always, ALWAYS backing it up. That type of brashness would normally make her furious, but in this case with David, the confidence with which he'd successfully manipulated her to get to this point ticked every one of her boxes. He'd outsmarted her, outlasted her, disrobed her, stripped all her armor away long ago. So, by the point he asked her what was going to happen next, there was no way to deny it.

"You and me are gonna fuck..." she relented, shaking her head in annoyance that she was about to give David what he wanted, even as she continued grinding against his imposing bulge. This had gone too far... it wasn't going to end without going even further. Even though her body was on fire with lust and sexual need, even as she accepted the fact that she was about to fuck the young punk she had always despised, she tried to justify it to herself. Diminish this moment of moral decay, treat it as a lapse in judgment before it even happened. Everyone made this kind of mistake. A one-night stand. A drunken hook-up. Even though she hadn't had a drop of alcohol, the sensation of big dick was the thing flooding her veins like the strongest drug. She would be a bad cop tonight. In the morning, this wouldn't mean anything. Every woman has one fling they regret, right? David would be her biggest mistake.

But that didn't mean she wouldn't get her money's worth out of him in the process...

"Haha! You're damn fucking right! Yes!" David agreed obnoxiously, spanking her ass in excitement.

SPANK!

"OH!" Monica groaned, her ass radiating heat and pleasure.

"I said it was going to happen, and it is!" he announced, really putting some oomph into it as he ground his big cock roughly against her, lifting his hips off the couch, making her bounce on him. She had accepted what was about to happen, sure, but that didn't mean she had to like him.

"God... you're so fucking cocky!" she sighed, a mirthless and despondent laugh escaping her parted lips, seeing her predicament but seeing no way out.

"Ungh! You like it!" David boasted, Monica unable to resist grinning at this claim, again annoyed at how easily he could see right through her. Something about David's well-earned cockiness set her off. The fact that he'd called his shot long ago, and every step of the way had remained ahead of her as he outmaneuvered her. Toyed with her. Manipulated her, all leading to this moment where she was submitting to him and giving him everything he wanted. The fact that she, an experienced and seasoned detective, had been completely outplayed by this cocky young prick was an incredible turn-on for reasons she couldn't fully explain. She found a dark satisfaction in this arrogant young man proving himself to be smarter and better than her in every way, and he knew it. "You prefer men who can talk a big game and back it up."

"Fuck! Ah!" Monica sighed, struggling not to agree. "You are, uh... you are certainly big! AH! Really fucking big!"

David sat back, raising his hands up, squeezing his fingers into fists as the pleasure from the detective's ass against his dick threatened to overwhelm him. Watching her butt at work, he couldn't resist giving that ass another firm smack.

SPANK!

"AH!" Monica ground in deep delight. Sensing victory was in his grasp, David sought to lay out the terms of her surrender.

"I'm not gonna take it easy on you, Detective," David began. "You denied me for so long that I need to make you see the error of your ways. You really left me no choice... I'm gonna have to make you my bitch!" Her head swimming with lust, Monica laughed in an almost crazed way, her dazed brain taken aback by the bold claim.

"Give it your best shot..." Monica said, dizzy with lust, sounding almost drunk. In the state she was in, she couldn't object to anything he said. She still harbored a deep, justified, dislike toward David, her cop-half still present enough to watch her own downfall, one that she was powerless to stop. She was just so fucking horny, and desperately in need of a deep-dicking. She needed this. Badly! And as much as she hated to admit it, David had clearly proven he was the man for the job.

"I mean it, Detective," David began, any humor in his voice outweighed by the lust in his veins. He was hot as fuck for this gorgeous detective, and he wanted this moment to tick every box of depraved triumph possible for himself. This game had gone on so long... in victory he wanted to get his money's worth. He didn't just want to win ... he wanted to conquer her. "I'm gonna be rough. I'm gonna be nasty. I'm not going to show you the slightest bit of mercy. I just hope you're fucking ready. You've spent the last few months making my cock as hard as steel... I'm going to show you exactly what you've done to me. When we're done, you're going to be mine. My woman. My bitch."

"Oh my God..." Monica sighed, both overwhelmed by his bold claim, and turned on by the sheer brazenness of it. She wasn't sure if she fully bought into this talk, but she was so consumed with lust she didn't have the strength to deny him. And frankly... she wanted this cocky punk to have a chance to give her his best, even with the small possibility that he did it so well he'd make her into his bitch... she was so desperate for a good fucking at this point that she would take that deal, even knowing the risk. She couldn't say anymore, so she just kept grinding against his throbbing bulge as David spoke.

"I told your cuck partner the same thing," David claimed. "That I'd make you my bitch! And he couldn't do a thing to stop it..."

SPANK!

At this, the younger man spanked the detective's ass again. Monica sighed, her head rolling, the pleasure so overwhelming that she could barely keep her head up.

"OH! FUCK!" Monica sighed. Her juices were gushing out of her, her thong completely soaked, as was the crotch of David's pants below, thanks to her. God, it was amazing how confident he was to think that she, a confident, mature, professional woman was merely a prize to be won. A damsel in distress. A princess to be claimed. A dumb, big-titted bimbo... fuck... a brainless bitch... AH... an empty-headed slut who was nothing more than a hot body. Ugh! Yes! A fucking whore who only existed to bring pleasure to superior men. Fuck! Why was this all turning her on so fucking much?! She had just enough self-control left to ask that question, but the lust in her veins was threatening to make her lose it all. Her eyes were rolling into the back of her head in absolute bliss as she lost more of herself with each passing second.

Clearly, the bimbo side of herself that she'd kept long suppressed craved being subjugated to the will of a strong, powerful, dominant man. Loved the idea of being treated like a man's bitch. Not just loved it, but craved it. And the moments where it had been brought to the surface were enough to make her cop-half feel the same way. David had the balls to treat her like to his bitch from the second they met, and it was only now that she was reckoning with how much it had turned her on all along.

So many men withered and backed down when faced with a woman like Monica, but not David. And that kind of confidence was undeniably attractive. He stood up to her. He confidently went on the attack. And not only that, he called his shot from the start, pushing all competitors out of the way, making it clear he was the alpha male compared to all the men in Monica's life, doing so until she grudgingly had to agree with him. In hindsight it hadn't even really been a contest at all. Joel never even got past the starting line. The only competition that mattered was between David and Monica. And all throughout this long ordeal, he'd treated her in the way even she didn't know she secretly craved. Talking down to her like he was smarter than her. Ogling her body shamelessly. Manhandling and dominating her. Making her feel like a weak, foolish girl. And the fact that he'd done all this shit that no other man could get away with, and that she let him get away with it... to the point that now she was about to award all that bad behavior by having sex with him... Monica couldn't deny that all his frat-bro, alpha-male, macho immature bullshit... worked wonders. Clearly, being successfully conquered was an incredible turn-on for the bad-ass cop.

"I told that beta that I would see you naked before he did," David bragged, crisply spanking her ass again.

SPANK!

"AOWH!" Monica yelped, her body quivering with lust, responding to every little thing he said and did by getting more and more turned on.

"I told your loser partner that you were so much closer to fucking me than him," David added, slapping her ass again.

SPANK!

"OH GOD!" Monica sighed, grinding into his big dick lewdly. "Really?"

"Uh-huh," David groaned, before spanking her ass for emphasis.

SPANK!

"FUCK!" Monica groaned.

"I told that cuck what a loser he was for never getting his hands on those tits of yours," David stated.

SPANK!

"UGH!" Monica grunted, her hips a blur on his lap. David was right... how had Joel never had the balls to seal the deal?

"He's been your partner for a decade, and I told him I would be the one getting my hands on your tits, not him," David boasted. "And now... he never will." Monica's mind was going crazy, going supernova with lust. It was so hot that he'd made such bold claims... and it would be even hotter to make all his predictions right. He'd sounded like just some punk kid with a crush on an older woman, indulging in a pathetic, immature fantasy... But he'd made good on every word, and dismantled Monica and Joel's lives in the process.

Both sides of Monica's true nature working in unison, locking hands in a temporary alliance, she looked back and gave the younger man a look so dark and lustful that she was almost unrecognizable.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Monica said with a raised eyebrow.

David announced his intentions with one more spank, making her squeal, as he made her reddening ass quiver, before demanding action.

"Sit up!" David ordered her. "Turn around and face me. Let me see those tits again!"

David's commands proved to be the only force strong enough to get her off of his lap. On shaky legs, the disgraced police officer stood up for just long enough to spin around, her massive bare tits wobbling lewdly as she did so. David's eyes fell upon her exposed udders hungrily, her melons never having looked more massive. And soft, and smooth. And ready to be squeezed.

"Here! Sit down," David demanded impatiently, slapping his lap with his hands, telling her to sit back down so she was facing him, her tits in his face. She moved quickly to do just that, planting her ass back on his crotch, her tits bouncing wildly as she plopped herself back down. As good as this felt, it didn't quite line up best for appraisal from the tall younger man, so she sat up straight and put her palms on the back of the couch over his shoulders, presenting her giant rack to the younger man directly in front of his face.

David took a moment to breathe, savoring the sight of her gigantic, immaculate tits. They'd never looked better. Round, smooth, and obscenely massive, they practically burst off of her slim upper half. The topless detective was practically panting above him, clearly excited, her giant udders rising and falling, jiggling with her rapid breaths as she let the younger man inspect them. Each melon was capped with a nipple that was very, very stiff, calling out to him. Her tits jiggled as she breathed, the detective's huge fleshy jugs looking indescribably soft, retaining a perfect teardrop shape that belied none of her age. The fact that he was about to get his hands on them filled him with an unholy excitement.

Monica watched him staring hungrily at her tits. Even as she offered them up to him, she couldn't believe she had actually let this arrogant prick see them. The cop side of her was shaking her head inwardly... helplessly. But outwardly, she was smiling and making her tits jiggle ever so slightly, desperate for David's approval. She couldn't believe she was as turned on at the prospect of David feeling them up as he was.

It was finally time. He'd taken a beat to just appreciate the older woman's massive tits, but now that that moment had passed, he didn't hesitate. He was ready to lay his hands upon perfection. Reaching up with his big strong hands, he brought them forwards, pressing his open palms against Monica's giant tits for the very first time. And as soon as he did, he couldn't resist immediately digging his fingers into the luscious, succulent flesh.

"Holy shit," David groaned out, his cock jerking so noticeably that Monica felt it lurch beneath her, a shudder of all-consuming lust coursing through him as soon as his palms finally made contact with her silky smooth, squeezable tits. They were SO fucking soft! Holy fuck! David had big hands, and they rarely met tits that could overfill them. But Monica's giant rack did just that, her udders far too big even for his large palms, and as he dug his fingers in, the creamy smooth flesh poured between them. As soon as he squeezed the detective's tits once, he couldn't stop himself, squeezing them over and over again, doing so more firmly every time, getting acquainted with the tits of his dreams.

Monica couldn't believe it. David Delvecchio had actually gotten his hands on her big tits. He'd been angling to do it from the moment they'd met, guiding Monica's investigation of him in such a manner that it would reach a point where he could get his hands on her bare tits, and now he was getting exactly what he wanted. It was unbelievable. Her body had gotten so worked up during her performance for David that she had actually invited him to fondle her giant breasts. And what was even more shocking was how her attitude towards David had been upended to such a degree that she now found herself craving his touch. The excitement coursing through her was overwhelming all logic and reason, wearing down her better thinking, allowing her young rival from the other side of the law free reign to do whatever he wanted with her big, beautiful, naked tits.

His face was a mask of wolfish excitement as his hands groped her titanic melons. And despite any reservations Monica may have had, she couldn't deny that it felt really, REALLY good, the detective sighing with satisfaction as his big, strong hands firmly squeezed her blimp-like breasts in the way they were meant to be squeezed. The men she'd been with over the years with were so intimidated by her that they'd been afraid to just go for it like this, but not David. He was fearless, not backing down when facing the great Monica Palmer, the fearsome badass detective. He just wanted to grope her tits, so that's what he did. That level of confidence was undeniably sexy.

In comparison, Joel had over ten years to get his hands on her breasts, and he had never sealed the deal. He'd been within arm's reach of her chest for most of that time and had never negotiated that last bit of distance. How many rides in the squad car? How many nights on that couch? How many quiet moments alone? He'd had the clear advantage over all other men on Earth, and he'd fucking blown it, big time. Hell, when she'd first met Joel, over a decade prior, when they were still at the academy in training, David had been just a gawky teen. Who would have believed that that boy was on a faster track to getting his hands on Monica's perfect tits than her own partner, a man who spent over a decade at her side her every single day, falling in love with her in the process. He'd wasted so much time waiting for the right moment to make a move, only to puss out when that moment came. Did he want to squeeze her tits any less than David? Probably not. He probably lay awake nights picturing them. The difference was that unlike Joel, when the opportunity arose, David fucking seized it.

Clearly, David had bigger balls than her partner. Literally and figuratively. And he was deservedly reaping the rewards.

David was consumed by Monica's boobs, unable to get enough. The massive jugs were squashed between his fingers, distorting their size and shape, as he dug in deeper and deeper, kneading them, milking them. With her stiff nipples centered in his palms, he felt up the detective's tits, clutching them before letting go, his hands gliding all over the smooth expanse of flesh, not wanting even the smallest part of them to remain untouched. His palms ran across the sides, the upper slopes, even through her cleavage. Finally, they settled underneath them, his big hands cupping her giant round tits and hefting them, his fingers lightly digging into the soft flesh as he cradled them in his palms. Both hands reached up, fingertips capturing and pinching the detective's nipples, making her moan appreciatively. He slid his palms along the pale underside of her heavy tits, the sensation of the insanely soft flesh against his palms damn near better than anything he'd ever felt. He squeezed them lightly, testing their firmness as he continued appraising them. And finally, he could no longer contain himself. "Jesus, Detective... you really do have the best fucking tits!"

"Fuck..." Monica sighed, the full-bodied lust in his voice as he praised her body stoking the fire inside her. Another first impression of David's was proving to be accurate. She was well aware from her time undercover that despite her restrained nature, despite her being a champion of empowered women, she got a sick pleasure out of showcasing the goods as the center of attention for a crowd of men. It turned her on to make men's eyes glaze over through the power of her lust-inducing body, listening to them cheering and wolf-whistling upon the sight of her perfect form. And while that was a long time ago, and though she'd gained a healthy humility about her incredible body since those days, David's treatment of her was making it clear that she still enjoyed having her body put on display and rapturously praised, even after all this time. And as someone who was similarly fueled by such verbal worship, David knew how to use his words in just the right way, his appreciation of her giant, perfect tits sending a shudder of lust through her nearly naked form.

His approval had her glowing. He was a man who'd been with so many women, who by the nature of his job as a strip club owner had seen countless pairs of tits in his short life... to have a man like that, at his level, say that her breasts were so much better than any other pair he'd ever seen... it really meant something. It was intoxicatingly satisfying. She couldn't imagine those same words coming from Joel's lips having even a fraction of the impact. Hearing that kind of approval from such a well-built, handsome, hung, powerful man was enough to turn even the humblest woman into an attention whore. Monica suddenly found herself completely understanding why David got off on having high-caliber women praising his big cock. And she found herself craving even more.

"Are they really the best?" She couldn't resist asking. The words burned as they left her throat, so wrong-headed and bimbo-coded that the angel on her shoulder could only shake her head at this kind of talk. But David's response was immediate, erasing those doubts.

"Fuck yes, Monica!" David groaned. "They're so massive and firm and fucking perfect! If I didn't know better, I'd guess these are the tits of a 20-year-old! Just look at them!" he growled, cupping them and making them jiggle in his palms, speaking as if he was begging the world to bask in their perfection. "You kept these covered up for way too long!" he growled, pinching her nipples to reinforce this criticism, but she didn't feel punished by his ministrations. She felt honored by them, the cop's body electrified with pleasure at having her nipples treated so roughly.

"Oh! Fuck..." Monica groaned, closing her eyes and biting her lip with pleasure, taking increasing delight in being objectified, arching her back and pushing her chest out, thrusting her tits into his hands. Even the angel on her shoulder was panting with excitement, the pleasure was so profound.

"You need to start showing off these perfect tits, Detective!" he urged her, squeezing her breasts lightly as he pinched her nipples again. "I don't care if it's unprofessional. Or inconvenient. Show these fucking tits off every fucking day! These babies are meant to be seen..." At this, Monica imagined herself wearing low-cut tops back at the precinct. No one would get any work done, her coworkers wouldn't be able to stop staring. Joel wouldn't be able to resist looking. Neither would the criminals. Or witnesses. Or suspects. Or just people on the street. At all moments, despite wanting to be taken seriously, Monica would feel like a sex object...

"Mmm... maybe I will," Monica sighed, her eyes shuddering with pleasure, a warm satisfaction filling her at the thought. The veils would be lifted. There would no more hiding the side of her she'd long sought to keep buried. Monica the cop wouldn't matter anymore. No one would be able to look past her tits. Despite all her awards and commendations, despite her having one of the best arrest records in the city, despite the fact that she NEVER took a bribe or compromised her ethics... no one would view her as anything but a bimbo. A brainless bimbo with porn star tits. And the thought sounded SO enticing...

"Oh my God..." David groaned, still palming the detective's breasts. He squeezed them greedily, unable to stop himself as he groped her giant rack, the fleshy udders overfilling his palms as he dug his fingers into them, their immaculate softness overwhelming. He truly couldn't get enough.

"Anhhh," Monica sighed, the feeling of his big strong hands greedily kneading her pristine melons was like a deep itch finally getting scratched just right.

As David kept feeling Monica up, her stiff nipples kept digging into his palms, a constant reminder of her arousal, a feeling that made his mouth water. Finally, this hunger became too much, and he could hold back no longer. Releasing one of her massive breasts to reach around her back, he gripped her and pulled her towards him. Monica didn't resist, letting him pull her closer. As her bare breast moved towards his face, the younger man couldn't hold back, crossing the remaining distance, his open mouth capturing the experienced cop's nipple between his lips.

"Oh fuck!" Monica groaned out, feeling a delightful tug on her nipple as David began sucking on it insistently, his tongue flicking at it as his lips formed a tight seal around the nub. His cheeks hollowed as his mouth pulled at her nipple, taking as much of it between his lips as possible. As he did this, his other hand kept groping her other breast, working both of her tits over just right. Her head rolled in sublime pleasure, her chestnut brown hair cascading down her back in waves. "Oh my God! I can't believe you're sucking my tits!" she sighed hotly. He'd always been so shameless in his pursuit of her, so naked in his desire for her giant breasts, so the fact that he now had his mouth on her tits was yet another victory for David. Despite not wanting to give the cocky younger man any undue praise, his mouth felt kind of amazing as he sucked at one of her mammoth udders, tugging at her nipple, licking it, flicking it, toying at it with his tongue, coating it with his hot spit. He was really good at this...

"Mmm..." David groaned in satisfaction from deep in his throat. His hand remained on her back, keeping her locked in place, allowing him free reign to suck on her tits. Her nipple swollen as stiff as possible in his mouth, he was suddenly filled with the urge to give the other one the same treatment. He detached and leapt onto her other tit immediately, devouring the nipple, giving it the same worshipful treatment as the first.

"Ugh... fuck..." Monica groaned, her body shivering in pleasure. Without thinking twice, she reached around his head, holding him in place, ensuring his mouth didn't go anywhere. She had raised herself up out of his lap so he really got a perfect angle, his hungry mouth doing its best to suck Monica's perfect tits as she fed more and more soft, pillowy flesh past his lips.

"Mmm..." David growled again, clearly loving this, especially with the detective's added assistance. He rewarded her by biting down on her nipple with just the right amount of pressure.

"Oh FUCK! Yes!" Monica moaned out, pulling him even tighter against her, her body going crazy as a lightning bolt of lust coursed through her from this treatment. She pressed herself against him, her massive fleshy breast practically molding against his face, clearly begging for more. And David obliged, biting on her nipple once again, another rush of pleasure coursing through her, her body shivering with delight.

Monica was trying to keep it together, trying to cling to her better instincts, but... she didn't know it would be this good. She was only dipping her toe in the bimbo waters, impersonating that type of behavior, and it felt 1000 times better than anything she'd ever experienced. But it was so dangerous. Only bad things felt this good...

Finally, he released his hold on her nipple, the spit-covered nub falling from his mouth as his head fell back. Gasping for air, he couldn't hide the smug grin from his face, overjoyed with the fact that he was sucking on the detective's perfect tits, and she was clearly loving it. But he wanted to hear her say it.

"God, you've got the best tits!" David said again, using the hand on her back to reach down and spank her ass as a reward.

SPANK!

"You like it, Detective?" he continued. "You like the way I suck on your tits?" She was coming down from the highs of pleasure she felt with his mouth worshiping her nipples just right. But even as she regained a slightly clearer head, and the part of her that remained unwilling to give the obnoxious younger man any more credit regained a semblance of control, with the pleasure that was coursing through her veins, she found herself unable to fully deny it.

"It... um... it wasn't bad..." she responded, a small smile creeping across her lips, betraying her as she tried to downplay how good of a job he was doing sucking her tits.

"How long has it been since you had a man sucking on them?" David asked, Monica's hanging boobs brushing against his chin, her nipples tracing over his lips even as he spoke.

"Too long..." Monica sighed. It was the truth. Even the lucky men who had ended up in bed with the busty detective were too afraid to lustfully attack her breasts with such vigor. But David wasn't afraid. She'd clearly settled for too many betas over the years. And even though she had come into this whole thing reluctantly, it was immediately apparent to her how much her body craved the attention of a confident alpha male.

"Goddamn..." David growled, grabbing each of her tits and bouncing them, the smooth flesh grazing against his jaw. "I want to fucking drown in these tits! Fuck, Monica..." David sighed.

"Like this?" Monica sighed, her body so turned on by this worshipful treatment of her huge breasts that she was suddenly driven to give him even more. Leaning forward, placing both arms around his head, she firmly pulled his face between her tits, smothering his handsome features in an avalanche of cleavage.

"MMMPHH!" David groaned. Suddenly, he was getting what he wanted, drowning in the cop's bare tits. He was floating in softness, the pillowy flesh molded against his young, handsome face. Luscious pressure was coming from all directions as the experienced cop's enormous jugs ballooned against his chiseled, handsome features. His face was lodged in her cleavage, and her boobs were so massive that he couldn't see, the oozing titty-flesh covering his eyes. All he could do was lie there and take it, experiencing the softness, drowning in it. This was the moment he'd been waiting for, dreaming of. Every day since the busty detective sauntered into his life, her tits jiggling as she approached him, he'd been waiting for the moment when she'd press her giant naked breasts into his face. For a man like David, it was rare that a girl with huge jugs got on his radar and didn't end up eventually motorboating him, but this was special. Monica was such a juicy target, the ultimate game for a young stud like him. With her he had waged a campaign unlike anything he'd ever mounted, and the resistance was beyond any woman he'd ever desired. But in the end even she couldn't resist the lure of David's charms, eventually succumbing to him just like all the rest, pressing her gigantic rack into his face like a fucking slut. The softness, the warmth, hell... even the girly scent from between her breasts drove him crazy.

But Monica wasn't done. With her tits pressing into his face, she didn't sit still. Shimmying her shoulders side-to-side, she proceeded to scrub her big naked tits across David's face. The detective dragged her smooth jugs across his handsome features, the chiseled edges of his face pressing into the immaculate softness of her enormous melons. She wasn't driven by logic and reason, only by the heat of the moment, giving David an experience most men would only ever dream of.

David was in heaven. Even with a touch of reluctance holding her back, the busty cop was really making sure his face experienced every square inch of her giant tits. He willingly scrubbed his face against her soft pillows, a contented groan rising from his throat. As her nipples scraped across his face, he made it a point to capture them between his lips, failing often but eventually grabbing the stiff nub between his teeth.

"AHH! Shit!" Monica sighed, her body shaking in pleasure. She was up on her knees, her crotch against his belly as she forced her tits against his face. But when she did this, a violent jerk of pleasure enveloped her body, sending her falling back into his lap. This time, it was her thong-covered crotch directly against the young stud's prominent bulge, just a few thin layers of clothing separating them. But this close contact was enough, a major jolt of lust hitting her.

"Ohhhh, fuck!" Monica sighed. She kept her arm around his neck, pulling him down somewhat as her crotch remained in his lap. As she kept her breasts pressed against his face, one nipple still captured between his teeth, she began humping against his bulge again, her drooling cunt soaking the crotch of his pants as she went at it. The professional cop side of her demeanor couldn't believe she was behaving this whorishly. Even she was shocked at how strongly her bimbo side had affected her, if she was behaving like this. Her bimbo side was still in its cage, and she was still humping against him like a fucking slut! Even as her better half clung to a sense of control, she could feel it slipping.

If David was in heaven before, this was a step above. Not only did he have the detective's tits in his face, but she was lewdly dry-humping against his bulge like the horny slut he'd always known she was. She'd presented herself as so much better than him, a mature woman, an officer of the law, but here she was, grinding against him like a fucking whore.

Monica was driving herself crazy as she ground against the younger man's prick, angling it in such a way so her clit was gliding along the length his stiff weapon just right. His huge fucking dick was really setting her off, and when it was so close to her wet, ready pussy, it was like she was feeling its power and potential at full blast. That, combined with David's mouth attached to her nipple once again as she pressed her tits to his face... it meant that her body was getting totally overwhelmed. One of David's hands was around her back, and the other was on her practically bare ass, gripping it firmly as she lewdly ground herself against him. He was returning the favor, humping up into her. Pressed tightly into each other, both of them were losing control as their foreplay threatened to take them both over the edge.

But this was the point where David's experience paid off. Despite being younger, he had a far deeper sexual history than Monica did, so he knew how to handle himself when the pressure got almost too much to bear. Monica... she was experiencing a level of pleasure she'd never had before, so she was a little out of control as she got heated up. But David... even as he was getting everything he wanted, the detective's perfect tits in his face, her humping against him like a fucking horny bimbo... he wasn't about to lose control. It was when the pressure was on that he performed his best. When the heat was on, things slowed down for him. So, as Monica was driven insane by all these new pleasures she was feeling, careening out of control, David locked in. He was ready to take control of the situation.

He was ready to assert his dominance.

Doing so with purpose, he reared back and roughly spanked Monica's ass.

SPANK!

"OH!" Monica groaned, her hips still moving desperately, humping against him lewdly, unable to slow down. So, David reared back and did it again, spanking her ass again and again until he got through to her.

SPANK!

SPANK!

SPANK!

"Oh! AH! What, David?" Monica asked, out of breath and confused, sounding almost drunk she was in such a daze. She stopped what she was doing, her crotch still pressed against him, leaning back enough to let her heavy, full breasts fall from his face, giving him room to speak.

"Detective... stand up..." he stated firmly, looking her dead in the eyes.

"What?" Monica asked, puzzled, leaning back with her hands still around his neck. Her body was on fire. Why wouldn't he want this to keep going? Did it not feel as good to her as it did to her? "But I..."

"I said stand up!" David demanded. And, to punctuate this, he spanked her ass again.

SPANK!

"Aowhh! Okay, okay, okay..." Monica said, still confused yet obeying, pushing herself up so she was on her feet again, looking unsteady in her high-heeled boots. Breathing deep, her nipples swollen and spit-covered, her thong absolutely soaked with her juices, she'd never looked like this before. Her eyes looked consumed with the pleasure she was feeling, as well as displaying some slight embarrassment, feeling that she'd failed in some way. She'd come here under pressure, and if it had been fully up to her, she would never have come. Yet, at the moment she'd gotten so locked in the moment, losing control of herself, David interrupted her pleasure, seemingly as punishment for not having done a good enough job... she couldn't deny that she felt slightly hurt at his rejection. She stood awkwardly in front of him, hugging herself, shoulders slumped.

But the positive in all this was that this moment of reprieve allowed her to regain her bearings. The bimbo's hold on her had been stronger than she realized, and her better half had been clinging to control, just barely holding on as the lust threatened to boil over within her. But now, the angel on her shoulder was able to regain its perch, the pleasure simmering down enough for her to reassert herself a bit over the bimbo urges that threatened to consume her completely. This situation was still spiraling far beyond what she'd hoped, but slowing it down allowed her the opportunity to not fully lose herself in the process.

David looked up at her, his well-tailored outfit looking slightly unkempt from the action so far. Most noticeably, the crotch of his pants was absolutely soaked with her juices. Locking in, he met her eyes and saw every feeling she had painted across her face. Clearly, she was frustrated that her rising tide of pleasure had been halted in its tracks, but that was by design. She had to learn. Experiencing so many new things, David knew she was in a very malleable state. What better time for her to learn her place? What better time for her to learn that she needed to prioritize his pleasure over her own? That the real pleasure she was seeking would only be gained... through submission.

Straightening his suitcoat, he pulled himself up from amid the plush couch cushions and stood, forcing Monica to look up, as he now towered over her. Meeting her gaze, he stared into her eyes for a few moments. Monica felt small, and David had never seemed so imposing, his power emanating off of him, making her shiver in his shadow. Not having to raise his voice, he gave her a command that was simple but firm, leaving no room for disobedience if she wanted this to go further.

"Get on your knees, Detective..." David commanded. Monica took a small step back, the motion making her heavy breasts jiggle. In the state she was in, the firm, masculine demand of his left her feeling an overwhelming urge to obey, no questions asked. But even as she felt flush with those leftover bimbo desires again, she understood what this action implied. A major line was about to be crossed. At the start, she'd been so wound up by her own conflicted feelings, her sexual frustration, her simmering love-hate relationship with David... and getting on his lap and everything that had happened since had been the result of that. It was just the natural release after all that build up. None of it required that much thought. She was just riding the wave of pleasure to wherever it took her, her body doing most of the driving. But now, he had interrupted that rhythm, clearing her head enough so that if she wanted more, she needed to actively choose to keep going.

She needed to choose to get on her knees for him. And that meant she needed to choose to face down his big, powerful cock.

Part of her wanted to... REALLY wanted to. Even now, with her head slightly clearer, she couldn't help but look down and gawk at his obscene, tantalizing bulge, and the prospect of finally seeing that weapon unsheathed, after months of being teased with it, was very tempting. The part of her that was pure bimbo was ready to be on her knees before he even asked the question, already drooling for his cock.

But still, she retained enough better thinking to remain... skeptical. David talked big... REALLY big... and even as she went along with him, she wasn't sure she bought into it all. He'd claimed that his cock would work such a magic on her that she'd be his bitch by the end of the night. And this was the moment where he could start to prove that he had the potential to do just that. While that thought was undeniably hot, she had to be smart about this, as smart as she could given the circumstances. She had to think this through. She couldn't be a stupid, brainless bimbo in this moment, the moment of truth. She was a police officer, and even with her tits hanging out standing in a pussy-juice-soaked thong, she still had to look at the evidence.

Firstly, she was absolutely certain his cock was big... VERY big. That was no longer up for debate. And she had already felt its might and power through his pants. At this point, she could reasonably suspect that his macho bragging about his capabilities wasn't all talk, but in the moment, she almost wished it could forever remain a mystery. Because if it was true, then this really was the last moment she had before her world would be totally upended. Despite every bimbo urge inside her screaming to obey his command, she didn't give in just yet.

But what were her options. Leave? That seemed silly at this point. How could she possibly stop this all now? It had gone so far already... there was really nothing to be gained from not going further. In fact, in some ways, it actually would be worse to leave now and keep things a mystery. It would only stick in her mind even more, haunting her nightmares and fantasies, driving her insane... to have come this close and turned away at the last second. Inevitably, she'd end up right back here, the shadow of David's weapon too fucking big to escape from.

No, she needed to exorcise this demon. Get it all out of her system here and now. As long as she retained enough of herself by the end of this, she could hopefully move on with that... thing... expunged from the forefront of her mind and re-enter her normal existence. And hopefully, this exorcism would silence her bimbo urges for good as well. Plenty of good people did bad things. She believed in rehabilitation. She believed people could get better after making a mistake, and she'd done enough good in her lifetime to be forgiven for one failing. With hindsight, she realized this was the moment that she had been building toward for her entire adult life, and it seemed obvious now that she'd have to face it down eventually. This was her moment of reckoning. Her ultimate test.

She had to get down on her knees and face the beast between David's legs down. She had to lay eyes upon it. If it was as good as advertised, she would probably also end up sucking it. And fucking it. Giving it the worship it probably deserved. And when it was over, if her character was true and just as she believed, she could endure this one moral failing. This one night. If she was as good a cop as she hoped, she could get away with hooking up with one criminal fuck-boy. Despite knowing he was probably quite good at this, she just had to bank on the hope that he wasn't the absolute greatest fuck on the planet, that one night with him wouldn't break her brain for good. She was as prepared for this moment as possible. She was smarter than that. She was a strong woman. One of the best cops in the city.

David's big, perfect cock wouldn't change that, no matter how amazing it was.

"Detective..." David began, having given Monica enough time. "Get on your knees."

This time, Monica didn't wait. Taking one deep breath, her knees bent and she knelt obediently onto the floor in front of the much younger man. She tried to ignore the pleasure rising up within her at this act of submission. She craned her neck and looked up at him, seeing the victory all over his handsome features. But soon, her eyes fell until she stared straightforward, facing down his clothed bulge.

"Take it out, bitch..." David growled. Monica's eyes flashed up at him angrily at this, and she shook her head, repulsed at being told what to do by this punk, but it didn't dissuade her. Even lit up with bimbo desires, she had enough of her cop side at the forefront that she was still approaching this clinically, like a detective. An unfortunate requirement of the job. Pausing for a moment, clenching her fingers into her palm, she savored these last moments before her fingers were forever tainted by making contact with this smug douchebag's unsheathed weapon. David was staring down at her expectantly, and she shook her head again, this time with a slump of her shoulders that signaled defeat. Monica's fingers went to his belt buckle, deftly undoing it as she held blazing eye contact with her longtime tormentor. Flicking open the button clasp of his pants, she pinched the zipper and lowered it all the way. Using both hands, she pulled his fly apart firmly, revealing his tight, stylish boxer-briefs, striped red, orange, and black. Glancing up at him as he watched her following his orders, she scowled at him as she grabbed the hem of his pants and tugged them down roughly down until they were hanging between his thighs, revealing the full expanse of his underwear.

Monica paused, facing down his bulge again, now with one less layer of clothing between her eyes and his meat. Meat was an apt word for it, as it looked like he'd stuffed a tube of salami down his shorts, straining against the fabric, stretching out the snug underwear. And if there was ever any doubt, it looked HUGE! Long... and THICK! Imposing... and mouthwatering. Releasing her hold on his pants, she hooked her fingers under the elastic waistband of his underwear, her fingers grazing his taut, muscular pelvis, that deep-V of musculature that had drawn her eyes for weeks at the gym, the intimate skin on skin contact enough to send a brief shiver of excitement through her. At this, she took a small pause, flicking her eyes up to glance at David's expectant stare, the younger man clearly looking forward to the grand reveal.

This... thing... it had been haunting her since their first meeting in this very club, when David kept spreading his legs across the table, trying to get her to look down... but she maintained enough control that she briefly only did so once... or twice. Then, when she got a better look at it weeks later... she couldn't stop staring at it. She couldn't stop thinking about it! It drove her crazy, and got her to do crazy things. If he wasn't THIS big... she wouldn't be kneeling in front of it. It was so powerful that she had been convinced to get on her knees for it, even though she'd never even seen it in the flesh.

But now she was about to.

And despite everything, even though she hated that things had gone this far... She couldn't deny that she was excited to finally just see the fucking thing and get it over with. She already knew it was huge, and perfect, and amazing, but she wanted to see that mysterious extra special something that made all those other women go so fucking insane. Unlike them, however, Monica was as prepared as she could be, and despite being fully tainted by her filthiest bimbo thoughts, she fully expected to keep her head about her.

There was no point dragging this out any longer. Taking a deep breath, pre-applying an unimpressed scowl to her face by twisting her plump lips to avoid feeding his sizable ego even more, Monica stretched the waistband of his boxer-briefs away from his body, gently pulling them down and around the protruding head, giving his weapon full clearance to escape. And with a forceful tug, she yanked his tight underwear down to his thighs.

And suddenly... it was revealed.

Like a tree trunk falling to the Earth, once his underwear was out of the way, his mighty sequoia fell from its position heavily, flopping out and hovering in the air in front of her face, bobbing up and down until it settled into place, rigid and hard, jutting out like a spear. Monica's eyes locked on it every step of the way. If Monica had planned to act unimpressed, such thoughts immediately disappeared.

"Jesus fucking Christ, David!" Monica spat out, the words rising out of her without thought, even as her head leaned back to allow clearance for his manhood to breathe. "It's fucking huge!"

'Huge' almost felt like an understatement. She already knew it was huge, both through the glimpses she'd gotten of his bulge, and the feeling of it pressed against her. But free of any containment, it looked so much more wonderfully massive. As thick around as a beer can, and easily exceeding 10 inches in length, it stood out from his body in a manner that almost looked obscene, impossible. This wasn't a standard penis. It truly did seem like a weapon, a club, a cudgel. Powerful and exciting, she sensed immediately it wasn't something to be handled lightly.

With his pubic hair closely and neatly cropped, the base of his bazooka was visible were it sprouted from his pelvis, his cock powered by rippling veins and muscles and whatever else it took to keep a beast like that powered up. It looked dangerous to the touch, and Monica realized her own slim fingers probably could not encircle such a beast... She would no doubt require both hands to fully encircle its girth. It looked as hard as steel, straight as could be, its diameter just as thick just under the head as it was at the base. Monica's eyes followed the full length, the scowl on her face falling into a slack-jawed wonderment, her eyes almost growing tired from the long journey as her gaze made its way from the base to the tip. The complexion across it was just as tan and appealing as the rest of David's magnificent body, the straining skin covering his rigid weapon looking smooth and unblemished despite the excessive amount of use that dick had no doubt had experienced in his 24 years. Her eyes admired the cum-tube running along the underside of the shaft, an industrial fucking pipeline that allowed heaping amounts of his seed to flow from his balls out to the tip and beyond. And what incredible balls he had, his sack hanging beneath the powerful shaft, containing his near baseball-sized nuts, looking big and swollen and filled to the brim with potent sperm. A cock like his needed balls to match, and that heavy hanging pair more than exceeded her expectations. Monica's eyes went to the tip again. The big, fat spongy purple head glistened in the low light, looking angry and threatening, like looking down the barrel of a loaded weapon. The mushroom head was perfectly flared, the bulbous tip of his spear looking dangerous and powerful. Even the hole at the end was impressive, menacing and ominous, she knew it was designed to fire off thick jets of high-powered artillery.

Monica's eyes barely blinked as she tried to take it all in, not wanting to miss a moment. The scowl on her lips had disappeared, replaced by genuine, open-mouthed awe as she gazed upon it. For a woman who was never shy about firing off a biting comment at the arrogant younger man whenever he talked himself up, her silence spoke volumes. What could she say when faced with such perfection? How could she hope to refute all his bold claims about his size when he was somehow even bigger than he had let on?

She'd seen his bulge many times over the course of this investigation. She'd been shown photos putting it front and center, photos she'd glanced at a lot in the weeks since. She'd heard Dana rant and rave about it like a madwoman. She'd been literally pressed against it at times... and for much of the past hour. But finally seeing it exposed for her, laying eyes on his missile in the flesh... none of her earlier appraisals did it justice. His cock was so much BETTER out of his pants than in it. It wasn't just the length, although it was even longer than she expected. It wasn't just its thickness, even though it looked as thick as a fucking baseball bat. It wasn't his massive balls either, although their size was fitting given the boldness he'd showed every step of the way. It wasn't the sheer beautiful, visual perfection of the sight of his sex organ, his meat looking like the platonic ideal of a big fat cock.

The thing that made that made his cock so superior was the power it exuded. Seeing it in the flesh... she could feel the masculine power emanating off of it in waves. And being on her knees, Monica was facing down that power full blast, unshielded, unprotected, like opening a blast furnace and sticking her face in. The power of that fucking dick of his was so potent and dangerous that it felt like it was changing her at a cellular level. It was the same affect her bimbo side had on her, spreading its poison in the moments it had been let out of its cage, until Monica created an icy, super-cooled ecosystem within herself to slow its influence. But now, faced down with the radioactive power emanating from David's manhood, all those defenses melted like butter in the sun. The longer she stared it, the more it changed her, breaking her down, warping her thoughts, letting a million lewd bimbo thoughts and temptations rise back up at full power. She could feel it corrupting her, but she couldn't look away, his cock planting a seed in her mind that could never be removed. It was like the sun. You shouldn't stare at it, because of the damage it could do to you. But it was so bright and powerful, and hypnotic in its radiance. And sometimes, you were drawn to the light it gave off, because that light was warm and healing and made all life possible. And once you acknowledged it, and truly understood your place in comparison to it, it asserted its place as the center of your universe.

Immediately, it was clear this was what made all those otherwise intelligent, sensible women lose their minds when confronted with it. Dana, Sandra, Sara Beth... Women she'd respected. Women who had morals. She'd wondered how they could be corrupted, entranced, seduced. But now Monica was experiencing it too. Even for a woman who had a reputation as an ice-queen, who had never found what she'd been looking for in a long list of failed relationships... she'd never felt more like a woman... a hot-blooded, horny, sexual creature... than she did right now, staring at David's perfect manhood. It wasn't every day you were confronted with a god-cock... it was no wonder why those other women became so obsessed with it. It was no wonder he broke them.

"Impressed, Detective?" David asked knowingly, his voice breaking her reverie. Monica's doe-like eyes looked up and met his own amused gaze before letting her eyes fall back to his big fat cock.

"You could say that..." Monica murmured, smiling lightly and shaking her head, gazing at his manhood with naked admiration. From above, David laughed as he saw the wide-eyed wonder in the ice-cold detective's eyes.

"Haha... This is always the best part," the younger man marveled. "I've hooked up with so many girls. All types. The best ones are the bitches like you. You all act so proud, and pretend you're so above all those other sluts. But in the end, when you're on your knees, getting a good look at what I'm working with... you all react the same way."

Monica still retained enough of her better nature to still bristle at David's denigrating language, comparing her unkindly to all the other women who'd ended up on her knees before him. Her eyes shot daggers at him as he spoke, but her gaze kept returning to his massive cock, and those objections in her mind soon dulled. And when she finally did open her lips, her annoyance was gone, as she spoke in a cutesy, girlish voice she almost didn't recognize.

"How do we all react?" Monica asked, her voice a flirtatious purr, self-consciously associating herself with all of those 'bitches' he was describing. Monica always championed women and women's causes, standing up for them every chance she could, as she knew women in a man's world had to stick together. Yet, at the end of the day, it was proven that even a champion of women could end up on her knees for a man. That even a badass detective like herself could act like a brainless, starry-eyed bimbo when a cock this massive and perfect was put on display for her.

"You tell me," David batted back. "What do you think?

Her eyes were locked on the head of his shaft, looking so dangerous it could bite, yet magnetically alluring all the same. But while she couldn't look away, there was still enough of the fiery cop left in her that her next words were tinged with a sarcastic bite.

"What, you want me to tell you that I think it's really, REALLY big?" Monica asked. At this, David's baseball bat notably jumped, bobbing in the air, and seeing it react to her words alone sent a rush of excitement through her enflamed bimbo brain.

"Yeah... I kinda do," Daivd sighed, his head rolling back. He truly did like hearing his cock being praised. Excited by this lewd reaction, and her words being the cause for it, Monica felt an overwhelming urge to keep going.

"It's the biggest I've ever seen!" Monica moaned, her words dripping with naked admiration, really making sure the message got through to him. "Seriously, you should need a fucking permit to walk around with a weapon like this in your pants..." Again, his cock jumped, and she couldn't conceal her grin at this reaction.

"You think your simp partner has a bigger one than this?" David asked confidently, knowing the answer. "Cause I don't." Monica didn't even need to say it. She gave him a pointed, disapproving stare, the look a wife would give her husband when he said something a little too mean about someone else. Irritation... but tacit approval. It wasn't that she disagreed with him... she just still objected to him voicing such a vicious comment about her partner, the man she... loved. But her look made it clear she couldn't disagree with David even if she wanted to, and that alone made his cock throb.

"Jesus..." Monica sighed, watching his loaded weapon swell up, bouncing in the air like a diving board. On instinct, her hand darted up to touch it, just to feel his pulsing shaft in her hand, but she paused in approaching such a monster, her fingers hovering just below his turgid, swollen shaft.

"Do it, Detective," David urged her.

Reaching up with the caution she might have shown approaching a wild animal, she slowly let her fingers move toward the base of his powerful shaft. Glancing up at him, as if to make sure she still had permission, she kept her hand moving towards his cock, and as soon as her fingertips grazed against it, her hand leapt into action, closing the remaining distance and wrapping her hand lightly around his shaft. After months of tension between them, the line had been officially crossed, the busty detective finally making direct contact with David Delvecchio's huge dick, skin-on-skin, for the very first time.

"Ohhh!" Monica yelped in surprise, as if surprised that she suddenly had a handful of David's enormous, rock-solid cock. "Fuck, David! It's so hard!" It was true -- his dick really felt as hard as steel! She squeezed gently and found it had no give to it whatsoever! Her fingers felt small, girlish and weak compared his weapon, his cock feeling mighty and powerful in her hand, the detective lightly squeezing it as she adjusted to having a beast of such size in her palm. As she'd guessed, her nimble fingers could not fully encircle its girth, requiring two hands to really grasp it, but she only used one for now as she appraised its size, weighing it, stroking it gently. It was so warm... and strong! "Oh my God, I can feel your blood pumping!" Monica effused, feeling the jet-fuel that powered his missile pulsing through the thick veins bulging from the smooth surface. Monica had to admit -- she was impressed by David's sizable manhood, having never encountered anything like this before, and she shook her head dumbly and just stared at it.

"You like that?" he asked.

"Like it? It's fucking amazing!" Monica gushed without stopping to consider how cock-crazed she would sound. Since the tension had ramped up between them, the two sides of her character, the cop and the bimbo, had been battling for control, oscillating back and forth in response to David's actions. But this was David's most decisive action of all, and the pulse of excitement that coursed through his cock at Monica's effusive praise only encouraged her bimbo side to bubble up once again, sensing a more welcome environment within her, sensing the coming capitulation. Monica tried to turn her back on these feelings, to keep the bimbo at bay, even as she sensed the inevitable approaching. The angel on her shoulder was struggling to stand her ground, but the sight of David's cock allowed the bimbo influence to reach the angel's bloodstream, infecting her with its influence, slowly corrupting that part of her as well. Even her better half began panting for breath with lust at the sight of David's ungodly cock, and the next time Monica spoke it was with the bimbo's voice.

"No matter what happens after tonight... If we end up in another interrogation room... or another physical altercation... or if I ever have to arrest you... David... I need you to know that I acknowledge that you have a huge fucking cock, and that I WILL be thinking about it whenever I'm around you. No matter how much I might try to deny it. To think I ever doubted you were huge..." she purred, squeezing at his rock-hard shaft lightly as she stared at it, testing just how powerful it was. Biting her lip as she admired it, she used her grip on its base to move it around, inspecting it from different angles.

"Detective, you can't deny it anymore. You've been thinking about my dick from the first second we met," David admonished her with a confident laugh. Monica gave him another scolding look, still rebelling against his condescending insults, still wanting to deny the accusation. But seeing how profound an effect his big cock was having on her, and the effusive praise she'd just voiced in admiration of it, she had to question how long this gigantic slab of man-meat had been exerting influence over her actions. Had this destiny really been written, even from that first minute she'd sat down at the table across from David, backed up by her partner? Maybe...

Instead of chastising him further, she swallowed her tongue in the same manner she'd probably end up swallowing his cock and let his boasting hang in the air unanswered. In silence, she continued admiring his weapon, her fingers moving slightly along its length, her fingertips testing if any part of it had any give to it, only to find every part she touched was as hard as granite. Seeing her focused on his manhood again, David spoke up.

"You know, we match, Detective," David said with a smirk. "I've got a big dick, and you have massive, perfect fucking tits. In the end, that's all that really matters. That puts us both on another level. It makes us better. Superior. Women like you are meant to fuck men like me." Even in her current cock-hypnotized state, Monica had enough mental clarity to roll her eyes at this idiotic claim. But at the same time, she could barely suppress a smile at the wicked compliment underlying David's immature worldview, feeling what she could only describe as a bimbo rush. The tomboy detective was suddenly flooded with slutty, girly feelings of pure feminine satisfaction. She felt like a teenager, getting a note in class that her crush thought she was hot and that they were fated to be together. It was like the setup for one of those silly high school movies. She was the introverted, hardworking, principled, wallflower star student who abandoned her friends, her code, everything as soon as one of the popular jocks took a liking to her. But even as she felt like she was floating from the attention, she recognized that she shouldn't be reacting this way, the same thing the girls in those movies eventually realized. But she wasn't fully at that point of reckoning just yet, still lost in the excitement of the moment, still swooning with attraction for this cocky younger man after this lewd comment. "That's why you came here," David continued. "It was always destined to end this way..."

"That's so stupid!" she tried to argue even as she could barely contain her grin, her voice lacking bite, the detective still grazing her fingertips up along the length of his rock-hard weapon as she tried to stand up to David. His claim that they were destined for each other just because she was busty and he was hung was laughably immature. Teenager logic. It was so brashly wrong that it almost rescued her better instincts from the lustful haze she had been in since she'd finally laid eyes on his big cock. "That's not how this works!" she insisted, more to herself than him, as she attempted to take advantage of this opportunity to re-assert greater control over her own actions and tamp down any overpowering bimbo thoughts.

But the feelings swimming through her veins were really making it hard for her to come across with any authority. They were dulling her brain. Slowly lowering her IQ. As she tried to form a stronger argument against him, she found herself coming to grips with the fact that his words possessed a certain twisted logic, and she was lacking the mental acuity to refute his claims point-by-point. His logic made total sense to her bimbo side. That part of her personality was perfectly satisfied by his idiotic reasoning, simply because he was a confident, good-looking boy with a huge dick, and the bimbo within was so starry-eyed that she'd agree with anything he said.

But it was such a ridiculous concept that she found it to be a sticking point for her better judgment, and despite her position on her knees, she found herself driven to stand up for herself and women like her. Even though she was kneeling compliantly, wearing only a thong, her hand grazing across the young man's gigantic cock rapturously as she continued to stare gooey-eyed at it, she tried to deny the reason a gorgeous, professional woman with huge breasts would view a young punk like him to be at her level. Most women were smarter than that. She rejected the notion that just because he had a horse-cock that it meant he was on the same level as smart, successful, professional women like herself. She had only ended up here because of her work as an officer of the law, and he knew that this was all a show. A forced performance. The fact that she was getting so unbelievably turned on by the whole thing was secondary. It didn't mean he was right. It didn't confirm his entire warped worldview.

"I can't actually believe you think that way. I know you're smarter than that," Monica smirked, gathering herself up enough to reject his argument even as she was once again awash with bimbo feelings. Doing her best to ignore that side of herself, she tried to convey her message free from that bimbo influence. "What makes a woman amazing isn't the size of her tits! And even if that was the case, you don't get to be on that level just because your cock is so fucking big and gorgeous!"

She spat this out with as much venom as she could manage, but in this state, even her criticisms of him were dripping with lust for that giant tool of his.

David smirked, a response rising to the surface quickly, recognizing the fact that not only was he on her level, the fact that she was kneeling for him was a silent acknowledgment of where she stood compared to him. She had never been on his level. He had always been above her, from the very start...

"You're right, Detective. Since you're the one who's on her knees, that might make me your superior," he pointed out calmly. She rolled her eyes and looked away, her fingertips still sliding lightly against his length, his response so annoyingly on-point, making her feel dumb and inferior again. This condescending treatment from the cocky younger man only encouraged her bimbo instincts to flare up, delighting in the fact that he was carving out a place for her as his subordinate, a feeling that only made her pleasure centers glow. God, he really did make her feel like a brainless bimbo, and his ongoing efforts to treat her like one made the caged bimbo inside her desperate to escape its confines and assert full control over her actions.

But still, even as she found herself more and more flooded with bimbo desires, Monica tried to keep it together. She had to follow her instincts. Even at her most fragile, her better thinking had caused these questions to rise to the surface, and it was for good reasons. Standing up for herself was the correct approach in this moment. Even as her fingers kept teasingly traveling up and down his lengthy cock, she had to make it clear despite her current predicament that she wasn't actually a bimbo. That even though she had all these wicked feelings, she was more than that. She was an acclaimed and highly decorated detective. An upstanding officer of the law. He needed to understand that.

"Just because..." Monica began, gathering up enough willpower to cut through the haze of lust currently clouding her judgment, ready to fire back at him, her fingers still lightly grazing against his shaft. But David sensed what she was up to, and immediately grew impatient. Frustrated with this level of teasing, and wanting to move things along, David decided to use a firmer hand to guide her actions, interrupting her and pushing past her bullshit arguments to get to the point.

"Bitch, what the FUCK are you doing?" he shouted abruptly, silencing her argument before it started. Staring up at him, jolting back at his sudden interruption, only to wither under his firm, pointed glare.

"What?" she responded weakly, his words like punishment, already making her feel bullied and stupid. But she didn't let go of his cock. David's eyes followed her still-moving hand before responding.

"Cut the bullshit!" he demanded firmly. "It's obvious you want to stroke my dick! So, stop fucking around, and jack me off!" He commanded her loudly and firmly. Monica again jumped slightly at this sudden loud interruption of a tender moment. She was not used to being talked to this way. Seeing this reaction in the detective, David exhaled impatiently, as if exhausted by this act she was putting up. Attempting to cool her hurt feelings, he took a moment to calm himself before addressing her again. "Look... we can keep debating this as long as you want, Detective... but put that hand to work as we do. That might give you the real answers you're looking for."

Her fingertips settled near the base of his big dick again as he chastised her, still brushing against his dangerous weapon as she looked up and scowled at him. Her pride had been wounded by this sudden tongue-lashing, and she wanted to retaliate against him for talking to her in this way. But even though she wanted to take a stand, the warm glow she felt inside her at being talked down to like this, at someone finally having the balls to treat her like a submissive bimbo whore ... the soul-deep satisfaction this caused really made her want to obey him. Her blood was pumping, the leftover bimbo feelings left behind within her only getting stronger as this treatment activated dormant sides of herself, making her want nothing more than to make this confident, assertive, powerful man happy. So, even as she looked up at him with annoyance and hurt in her eyes, she couldn't resist giving him what he wanted, her hand locking around his wrist-thick shaft, her nimble fingers squeezing at his meaty prick as firmly as she could. No more tentativeness. No more holding back.

It was time to do some work.

"Unghh," David groaned, the ice-queen detective's grip around his pole sending a jolt of pleasure through him. And that fierce look on her face made the moment even better, especially when that clenched fist of hers finally began to pump up and down his giant pillar. "Ahh... that's it..." he sighed, his masculine groan of pleasure only encouraging the older woman.

"This what you wanted, big boy?" Monica hissed with some venomous bite, looking up at him with an annoyed look on her face as she began jacking him off in earnest. She was trying to make sure he knew that she didn't want to be doing this. But as angry as she was acting, she found herself spitting lewdly on his cock as she stroked it, making it just as clear that even though she was being forced to do this, she at least wanted to do it well. Her fingers gathered her own frothy spit and smeared it up and down his shaft, lubricating her jacking strokes.

"Fuck yeah," David breathed, staring down at her, teeth gritted in ecstasy. "I've been waiting for this moment for months, to feel your hands on my cock... Just like I've been waiting for you to finally call me 'Daddy.'"

"Oh, don't get too cocky, young man," Monica chided him with a devilish smirk, from her kneeling position at his feet. "Because I can tell you one thing for sure... and that's that no matter what happens here tonight... No matter how far we take this... I will never..." She pumped his cock once, hard, to emphasize her words. "Ever..." She jacked his spit-slick meat again, squeezing it tight, her fingers piling up around the base where his club-like meat met his pelvis. "Ever..." Her fingers crawled up to just below the flared tip of his cockhead and twisted, making him tense with pleasure. "Call you... Daddy."

Her words were all cop... but her actions were veering dangerously close to pure bimbo.

But even as she wore that jaded, pouting look on her face, she couldn't deny that since laying eyes upon David's massive cock in the flesh for the very first time, she'd become possessed with a growing need to stroke that giant pole of his. She didn't know if such a compulsion was driven by the bimbo still chained up inside her, or if it was just a subconscious female instinct, but when faced down with this prime slab of manhood, she was suddenly driven by an all-consuming need to pleasure it. It simply had to be done. His cock called out to her. It needed stroking, and it was a crime to let it go unanswered. She reared back and spit on it again, her hand soon traveling up and down his spit-soaked weapon at an increasingly rapid clip. The feeling of it throbbing between her fingers made the swallowing of her pride worth it.

"God, yes, Detective," David responded with a smug grin, his head slightly rolling back in pleasure, watching her spit on his cock like a nasty slut, like a natural born whore. Feeling his prick noticeably stiffen and swell-up, she was energized to do even better, resting her free palm on his waist in order to give her added leverage, stroking his cock with some added oomph, aiming it right at her face as she peered up at him, scowling. Her massive, bare tits were jiggling and wobbling lewdly as she did it. David's cock throbbed in desire at the sight.

"So..." Monica said, sneering as she stared directly down the barrel of David's weapon. She spit on the head again, getting it slimy and moist as she stroked it, her hand making a lewd squelching sound as her hand flew up and down his big dick. Her previous argument bubbling back to the surface, she tried to resume the defense she was making before he put her in her place, her words filtered through an increasingly dense bimbo haze. "As I was saying... you think the only reason that I, a woman with big PERFECT TITS..." she began, intending this to be sarcastic, but her pleasure centers lit up as she talked about herself this way, forcing her to take a few moments to recover. "You think the only reason I'm doing this is because you have a massive, beautiful, AMAZING cock!" Again, her intent was to mock the younger man, but the sarcasm was lost as her voice took on a lusty, husky tone despite herself, and her filthy words only set David on fire with lust. "You think that we were meant for each other because we're both so well-equipped? That's stupid. I think you'll find most women have higher standards..." She was proud of herself that she kept it mostly together as she finally made her grand defense.

"I'm hot, rich, young and hung, Detective..." David bragged, his stamina proving itself as he withstood this increasingly intense hand-job from the busty detective. "I think I eclipse the standards of most women. Most women... don't deserve me."

"You're an obnoxious, overconfident PRICK!" Monica spat back, her hand now furiously stroking David's giant manhood without even realizing it, speeding up even as her words attempted to tear him down. "All you think about is sex. Although with a cock this size, I almost can't blame you..." she sighed, her eyes drifting to his massive pole. She was silent for a few moments, her hand still at work, her eyes getting temporarily lost in the sight of his perfect manhood as her closed fist jacked it hard. Remembering that she was trying to make a point, she continued. "You don't respect women. You only view them as sex objects. And women can always tell when they're being objectified." Her hand was flying up and down his lengthy schlong, and she arched her back and pushed her big tits out for his viewing pleasure, almost subconsciously. But despite that, she was proud that she was keeping a clear enough head even in this crazy situation to mount a defense against David's toxic worldview.

"Some women like that type of thing..." David replied with a pointedly raised eyebrow, his eyes admiring her jutting ass and bobbling tits as she eagerly stroked his dick.

"Most don't," she gasped out, not admitting where she fell on that spectrum as her fist kept flying up and down his cock. Both sides of her nature were at work, the cop side on the attack verbally, while the worst urges leftover from the bimbo within her proved useful, stroking David's cock with true skill, slowly clouding his judgment with lust and no-doubt wearing him down in the same way he'd done to her, using this weapon of his. Scowling, staring down the younger man from her place on her knees with blazing excitement in her eyes, she continued pressing the attack. This felt like an avenue for success, and her willpower was holding strong. "Trust me... most women know they can do better. Most women deserve better..." Despite these insults, her hand job only got better, her hand now rotating along his swollen penis as she stroked the spit-soaked monster, wanting to make this so good for him he couldn't think straight, making him into putty in her hands. It felt good to cut loose on him like this verbally, and she found the words rising out of her. "Most women should know better. Most women don't end up here, in front of cocky fuckers like you! They try their best not to do better. But sometimes..." she paused, really baring down on his swollen cock, her fingers flying up and down his length, getting angrier the more she argued, the words flowing out of her from a place she hadn't realized she was tapping into. It was her cop side that was trying to stage this defense, and it was that side of her that couldn't contain a soul-deep anger that was simmering beneath her ice-queen veneer. "Sometimes... even the smartest, most professional women... Fuck, it's huge... They try their best. They play by the rules. They try so hard to seek out better men! Oh fuck! And sometimes... those better men fall short! Oh!" Monica paused, marveling at David's steel-hard cock as her hand stroked it aggressively.

"Sometimes... the men around them just can't get the job done!" Monica continued, getting angrier, veering away from her original point, remembering all the failed dates she'd gone on over the years. All the men who fell short. One in particular. "Sometimes, even the good ones aren't good enough." She remembered all the times she'd let herself believe she'd met a man with real potential, and all the times they revealed that she was wrong about them. "Maybe there aren't many good men these days. Because they all let you down in the end." Her hand was a blur on David's powerful manhood at this point, lewd squelches and wet shucking noises filling the air, his rigid and powerful cock underlining the striking contrast to the very men she was talking about. "You can open up... fuck... you can be your best self... goddamn... you can do everything the right way... oh... but it doesn't matter... ungh... when the men around you are weak-willed, spineless fucking CUCKS!" She screamed out, memories of her partner and the events of a few nights prior front and center in her mind. She'd thrown herself so hard into the mindset of her cop-side that she'd inadvertently tapped into some very real feelings, this hand job becoming a twisted therapy session, causing truths to erupt out of her that she'd been afraid to admit to. The inner conflict within the detective had been brought to the surface, causing her to lash out at the predicament she'd found herself in, and those she held responsible for it. "Beta losers who can't seal the fucking deal!" she added, equally angry and horny, a dangerous cocktail of emotions whose sole beneficiary was David's big cock, her stroking only getting better and better the angrier she got. "And it drives these good women so fucking crazy... that they have to seek out a cocky motherfucker like you... to get the job done!"

"I can get the fucking job done," David growled, his shaft like iron.

"I know you can, you fucking asshole!" Monica spat out, her fist a blur as she stoked him. "I've always known!" As acknowledgment of this fact, her hand on his waist slid down to cup his balls, rewarding him for his superior masculinity, massaging his nuts gently as her other hand treated his cock with little mercy. "Because you've got fucking balls! You're not a better man... you're a cocky, obnoxious, arrogant motherfucker... but I know for a fact that you're good for one fucking thing! And sometimes..." she paused, staring at his weapon and shaking her head, awed by it despite knowing better. At this point in her rambling screed, she couldn't keep what she was about to say beneath the surface any longer. "Sometimes, even the best women need it! Sometimes, even the best women just need to get FUCKED!"

"Damn right, they fucking do," Daivd sighed, his head rolling back in pleasure, smiling and nodding.

"Even the best women just need some fucking dick sometimes!" Monica stated, her eyes blazing, staring right at it, her voice speaking raw truth as she knelt at the altar of David's divine manhood. Inspired by the sight of it, by the feeling of its masculine power in her hand, the words kept pouring out of her, exposing her nastiest beliefs and deepest held truths to a figure worthy of such respect.

"Sometimes, you just can't stop fantasizing about it," she confessed, still looking directly down the length of his shaft. "You can't stop dreaming about it. Sometimes, you can't stop thinking about sucking it! About fucking it! About just submitting to it and feeling its FUCKING POWER! Sometimes, David... even the best women need to be treated like brainless bimbo sluts!" Monica stared up into his eyes as she knelt at the younger man's feet and gave this heated confession, gripping that weapon of his as tight as she could as she furiously stroked it. "And sometimes... fuck... sometimes, even the best women can't deny a man as perfect as you, no matter how much of a cocky, smarmy, immature fucking asshole you are..." Her hand stopped in its tracks, gripping the base of his cock as hard as she could, shaking it in front of her, as if to display the evidence of the perfection that couldn't be denied.

David smiled. It was finally all out in the open. In trying to stand up for herself, she'd fully come to terms with how she'd ended up on her knees. The best of men had failed her, leaving her hot ass up for grabs. Over time, this need for a worthy man had grown all-consuming, leaving her in a state to seek out a man who could get the job done, no matter what side of the law he was on. Her partner Joel had not been able to seal the deal, and his failure left her open to this fate. Joel could not have played his part in this whole affair any better. If he was trying this whole time to help David drill Monica, he couldn't have done a better job, his efforts to patiently woo Monica with kindness and respect leaving her in a state where she needed a man to step up and claim her... priming her perfectly for David. She'd used the false premise of her investigation to justify coming to his club in very little clothing, but in truth, given enough time, she would have eventually ended up here anyway. Face-to-face with the cock that would forever change her destiny.

"You like that big fucking dick?" David growled, wanting to hear her say it.

"It's fucking perfect!" Monica confessed, scowling, and shaking her head, yet unable to deny the truth, doing so angrily as resumed her furious stroking.

She'd done her best all night to try to push past the lust in her system and keep her head as clear as possible, trying to be a cop even as she performed as a slutty, topless, thong-clad bimbo stripper. And she'd successfully done that, retreating to the safe space her better half afforded her as her other side did its sinful work on impulse without second thought, using whatever twisted influence her caged-up bimbo half had left behind within her subconscious to drive her actions. But she'd gotten carried away, her defense of herself and other strong women like her inadvertently forcing her to confront just how utterly Joel, and his attempts to find romantic love with her, had failed her. Strong, confident women were taught to not accept anything less than what they deserved. No man ever lived up to the same standards she set for herself, leaving her a gorgeous, busty, perfect, and utterly sexless pillar of feminine achievement in a man's world. A twisted knot of unquenched lust that slowly grew tighter and tighter over the years, deepening her sordid desires, the knot getting more twisted over time until she was craving some truly wicked shit. And it inadvertently left her especially vulnerable whenever she came across a man that actually met her steep standards, no matter which side of the law he was on. So, when a gorgeous, busty, hopelessly horny woman like herself finally came across a handsome, well-built, ultra-hung alpha male who was confident enough to talk the talk, and clearly had what it took to back it up... of course that bimbo side of her would respond. Of course, her icy veneer would melt in his presence. Because a woman like herself could only be satisfied by a man like him.

Fuck... David was right.

They were made for each other.

Her verbal attacks on David had caused the angel on her shoulder to horseshoe all the way around to agreeing with David and sympathizing with the bimbo. That thought alone sent a reckless shudder through her. Yet, some part of her retained enough control to still hold back, despite this revelation.

But it came at a real fucking struggle. Upon coming to this realization, of how she'd ended up in this position, she couldn't stop herself from enjoying the benefits of being on her knees. The lust-addled cop couldn't stop staring at David's unholy weapon, his scepter conjuring wicked thoughts in her overwhelmed mind as she stroked it, driving her crazy. It was too much to take, her system so consumed with lust that she couldn't run from it anymore, her body and mind now almost fully empowered by bimbo fuel, weakening her resolve and degrading her moral code. She was slowly convincing herself that she'd earned the right to be bad just this once after having done so much good over the years, these potent, insidious, lusty feelings slowly burning through her defenses, leaving her deepest hidden desires exposed, fully on the surface. These desires were just so much for the cool, calm, controlled detective to take. It was the same potent feeling of pure, all-consuming lust that had hit her in waves upon seeing his cock on display for her for the very first time, but this time, those feelings weren't fading away. They were only getting more powerful. Her system was overclocking with sinful desires, and it wasn't slowing down. The angel on her shoulder was panting for breath, three fingers deep in her angelic cunt, her mouth open, tongue extended, nearly as hungry for cock as the bimbo was.

And David knew it.

"Do you love that perfect dick?" David asked, his voice curling into her mind and staying there.

"Yes... I fucking love it..." Monica groaned, staring right at it, breathing deep, biting her lip, the only thing separating his cock and her mouth was permission.

"Do you love it enough to suck it?" David asked. At this, Monica looked up at him, her eyes blazing in desperation as she vigorously stroked his cock.

"God yes!" Monica sighed, licking her lips. She couldn't believe what she was saying, but they were her words. She couldn't think straight, she was so fucking horny. And now that he'd brought the topic up, she couldn't keep her hunger silent. "I want to suck this big, perfect cock more than anything!"

She'd finally found something both sides of her personality could agree on.

"Then do it, bitch!" David growled impatiently. "Suck that fucking dick!"

That was all the push she needed.

She was in such a vulnerable state that this firm command from David was enough to send her over the edge. As soon as he gave this order, her plump lips parted, her mouth open and ready to receive. Pausing in her stroking, gripping the base of his cock firmly, she pointed his lengthy, throbbing dick directly at her waiting mouth. Her eyes were wide and unblinking, staring at it. Her mouth was watering, eager to taste it. Breathing deep, collecting as much breath as she could knowing what was coming next, she was inadvertently taking in his pheromones, her body getting acquainted with his manhood moments before it would be in her mouth.

But once it hit her system, those moments became milliseconds.

Unable to hold herself back any longer, Monica practically attacked the young man's lengthy cock, leaping towards it, her lips opening wide as she allowed David's big dick into her mouth. As soon as the head of it crossed the threshold into her mouth, it pressed itself against her tongue. As more of it entered her mouth, her lips began grazing against his shaft. Her mouth was wide open as she took it into her mouth, to the point of her jaw being sore, but as soon the head of David's big cock pressed against the entrance to Monica's throat, she realized she had to open up even wider. But she couldn't keep her jaw cranked that wide forever, and it soon reached a point where she couldn't stop herself from closing her lips around it, her mouth forming a tight seal around David's dick.

"Mmm..." came a contented hum of appreciation from deep in Monica's throat as her lips settled on David's meat. Her eyes went wide, practically glowing with lust. Fireworks were going off inside of her. Lightning was striking her delicious body, and it was her closing her lips around David's thick shaft that completed the circuit, the bimbo fuel in her veins carrying the charge, empowering her with an unholy lust that the 35-year-old woman had never come anywhere close to experiencing.

Feeling his cock throb from this contact, Monica was encouraged to take more, the detective beginning to force her mouth down the length of his cock. This was a difficult task, given his size, but she wasn't going to let that stop her. This cock had been haunting her fantasies, and now it was in her mouth. There was no point holding back, so there was nothing that was going to stop her from sucking the life out of this perfect dick. In many ways, it felt like her life had been leading to this moment. Inevitably, someone as sexy as Monica would encounter a cock like this that would reduce the proud detective to this near-bimbo state. And now that she was on her knees, facing down her destiny, she vowed to savor the moment.

Few had been lucky enough to earn the privilege of getting Detective Monica Palmer's mouth around their cock. And there were even fewer men who'd Monica had actually fantasized about doing this to. The few times Monica had sucked a man's dick, it was very... mechanical. Doing it with men she liked, but doing it with a lack of passion that made it clear she was just going through the motions, doing it for them because there was an expectation that this is what a woman was supposed to do for the man she was with. But in truth, she never got much out of the act, and in truth, she never particularly wanted to be doing it. But for David... she'd been thinking about sucking his cock for weeks. In all those post-workout showers at her apartment, after spending the entire morning feeling a gravitational pull towards his massive bulge, it was practically therapeutic to imagine herself on her knees, inhaling his sizable weapon, surrendering to the very thing she'd been trying so hard to avoid. But fantasy didn't compare to reality.

The real thing was so much better...

She'd certainly never taken a cock anywhere this big in her mouth, but the hunger with which she attacked it made it clear his size would not slow her efforts. Every time she bobbed her mouth on his mighty rod, she took more and more into her mouth, gagging and gulping on the end audibly, a wet refrain of gluck, gluck, gluck echoing through the room as she throated him, music to his ears. In the previous occasions she'd done this, she struggled with the act even though the men were far smaller, as anytime the tip of their cock brushed against the back of her throat, it would make her gag. But with David, even though his cock was a fucking baseball bat, she found herself enjoying it SO much more. And perhaps it was because all that bimbo energy was empowering and driving her actions, but her gag-reflex was suddenly far less of a problem. This allowed her to take his cock deeper and deeper into her mouth, which was good, because the more she sucked on it, the more she was driven by an overwhelming urge to fucking choke on this perfect slab of manhood. To push past her limits and get every inch of his meaty weapon lodged down her throat.

At the start, she was tentative, only taking the head and an inch or two of the shaft beyond the flared mushroom tip. But finding no resistance from her tight throat, her hunger soon drove her to take his cock even deeper. As his member slid right across her flattened tongue, she glazed his fat shaft with spit, allowing it easier passage. And in the state she was in, she found herself even enjoying the taste of the young man's big, perfect dong, his specific flavor of manhood agreeing with her tongue, making her mouth water, making her ravenously hungry for more. This is what compelled her to keep her lips wrapped snugly around the circumference of his heavy weapon, forming a perfect seal. This is what had her cheeks hollowing around it lewdly, the insides of her cheeks making contact with his shaft as she took it in her mouth, sucking it hard, like a total slut. The way she was energetically inhaling his powerful rod was all but ensuring David's thick, lengthy cock would slide right down her throat, and still finding no resistance there, she let it do just that, feeling the head of the young stud's cock exploring depths in her throat untouched by any man before.

"Oh my God," David sighed, his head rolling back in pleasure. As confident as he was, he was still in a state of slight disbelief that the smoke-show detective he'd been pursuing for months was finally on her knees, sucking his cock. And she was doing it so fucking well! He always knew there was a minx beneath her icy veneer, but even he was slightly surprised at the vigor with which she was sucking him off. Clearly, his efforts over these last few weeks and months had truly struck a chord within the busty detective. Each time she bobbed down on his cock, she gargled wetly on it and took more into her mouth and down her throat. Her lips remained glued to his thick shaft as she sucked his big dick, as if fearful it would disappear if she released her hold on it. She kept driving herself down on it further, trying to fucking swallow his length in one go, her lips inching down further along his shaft as her throat allowed it deeper. And to her credit, she was doing a damn good job, having taken almost half of that almost footlong cum-cannon into her mouth on her first try. Her face was red from lack of air, and her eyes were glassy as she was consumed with lust, still inhaling his dick, staring up at him to get his approval. And as much as he wanted to give her that credit, as she was indeed doing an amazing job, he knew that wouldn't be the best approach for this one. No... he knew Monica. She was motivated by hatred and spite. Approval wasn't what she needed. She wouldn't become a better slut, she would never go as far as he wanted her to, if he told her she was doing a good job. No, she needed to always be trying to prove herself. She could never think she was doing a good enough job on him. She had to always be trying to do better. He had to withhold the praise she so clearly craved for as long as possible, crushing her self-worth and confidence beneath his heel, encouraging her to do filthier and filthier things, starving her so that when she finally did get that praise, it would set her off, and make her spend the rest of her life seeking that high again. Only then would she become the first-class slut he intended her to be. So, in truth, this treatment would be for the best, as it would make her the best version of herself she could be.

"Not bad, bitch," David groaned out, trying to deny how fucking good this felt. "But you can do better. I want you to take the whole fucking thing down your throat. I promised your partner that by the end of this, I'd get my balls on your chin. You don't want to make me a liar, do you?"

Monica's eyes rose and shot a blazing glare at the cocky young douchebag upon hearing this arrogant command. She would have never let a man talk to her like this without serious retribution... never... until today. It wasn't even him referring to her as 'bitch'... frankly, he'd sprinkled that in throughout the night to the point that she'd gotten rather acclimated to that kind of language. But as always with David, it was the confidence with which he said it, knowing there'd be no repercussion... the confidence that he could tell Monica, rather rudely, that he wanted to her to suck his cock so deep he could rest his nuts on her chin... and make it sound like her responsibility to back up his own bravado from months prior... what an arrogant fucker he was.

God, it was SO intoxicating.

The balls on this punk, to so boldly believe he could tell a woman like her such a thing. She'd never encountered a man quite this cocky. He'd upended her life completely, driving a wedge between her and her partner, totally fucking up the most important case of her life, sending her careening into a whirlwind of lust and degradation which ended with her on her knees, blowing him, making her betray every belief she held dear just to pleasure him. And despite that, he wanted more? The arrogance! He thought that, just because he had a big fat, perfect cock, he could tell her to take every inch, and she would just do it? His cock was fucking huge... way too much for any self-respecting woman to take down her throat. He had to know that it was an impossible job. As fun as it was to fantasize about swallowing the whole thing given his size... to do so would take an almost inhuman effort, even when fully keyed-up on bimbo fuel. With his cock as long and thick as it was, her gag reflex would surely kick in eventually, well before his balls met her chin. He had to know he was setting an impossible goal! Smug fucker!

You know what... what if she did it? What if she actually swallowed the whole fucking thing? The thought drove her wild with lust and hunger. It would be amazing, wouldn't it? She really should swallow it whole.

She should do it just to prove him wrong...

Monica was already taking so much more dick in her throat than she ever had before. Driven by the bimbo desires coursing through her veins, she felt empowered to give it a shot. In this state, she felt like she could handle A LOT of cock down her throat. What if she actually went and did it? What if she swallowed the whole thing? He'd go crazy! She'd show him she was capable of things none of those other women were able to. He wouldn't be able to contain himself!

And it would teach Joel a valuable lesson as well. If what David said was true, and that cocky fuck went and told her partner something so crude and lascivious like that... Bragging that he was planning to slide his dick down the throat of the woman Joel loved, going so deep that his balls would end up on her chin, and Joel did nothing about it... well then maybe it would it be best to just give the cocky fuck what he wanted and teach her partner to grow a fucking spine. Show Joel what happens when he reacts to a superior, confident alpha male in such limp-dicked, beta fashion.

All these thoughts passed through her mind in a flash, within the span of that fiery look she gave the arrogant younger man while she had a mouthful of his cock. And in response to this crude comment, his daring her to swallow more, her response was exactly what he hoped for: the older woman forcing even more of his lengthy cock into her mouth and down her throat.

"Ah, that's it, bitch," he groaned in satisfaction, the added pleasure in his veins making his more callous side come out. But to him, it was fitting. No more deference and faux respect of calling her detective. She was on her knees sucking his dick... in this moment, she was closer to being a bitch than she was a detective. She was going to be treated like one. "You like that? You like swallowing that fucking dick?"

"HNGHHHH..." she groaned out, more than half of his impressive weapon now in jammed past her lips. Any sense of the message she was conveying was thoroughly muffled by rock-hard dick. Her tight throat was eager and hungry, but inexperienced, so it was taking some time for her to carve out room for his meaty invader. But she was fucking trying, taking more and more of his cock every time she bobbed on it. And as voracious as her hunger was, her lungs were screaming for air, causing her to finally have to extricate herself from his massive cock, gasping for breath on her knees, holding his pole with two hands, drooling and glowering at his spit-soaked weapon with glassy eyes.

"Ahh! Ooouh my God!" she groaned, her body alive and on fire as she panted, catching her breath. But David wasn't about to allow her the slightest bit of mercy.

"I asked you a question, bitch," David stated firmly. "Use your words and tell me if you like swallowing that fucking cock?"

Again, her eyes blazed at this rough language, the domineering edge in his voice, but she found this filthy talk only ramped up the intensity of the moment, so she played along.

"Yes! I love swallowing this big, tasty dick!" Monica moaned out through sloppy, spit-drooling lips, stroking his cock again, smearing the frothy tendrils of her own saliva coating the upper-half of his weapon all over the length.

"Well, that's good..." David began, controlling himself, maintaining his focus when lesser men would fall victim to the overwhelming lust of the moment. This is where David proved his bona fides... proving why he was capable and deserving of fucking only the best women. Why they inevitably flocked to him. When the pressure was on, he locked in. And when he was locked in, that smirking, easy-going demeanor disappeared. The charm was enough to get the girls on their knees for him... and his firm, masculine dominant streak was enough to keep them there. "Good, because you're gonna need to get used to this, because I'm going to make that throat mine!" The confidence with which he said this shook Monica to her core. If she hadn't already been kneeling, she would have collapsed on the spot, as would most women. Again, her body responded to this rough treatment, and she was too far along this path now to stop the inevitable, going along with the younger man as he gave her his best, the excitement allowing her to sound convincingly like a slut.

"Is that right?" Monica asked in an almost playful tone, still catching her breath, her bare tits rising and falling as she did so. David nodded firmly, his eyes wide in a way that made him look almost maniacal.

"What do you think your beta partner would think if he knew I was about to fuck your face?" David said, his tone harsh, yet exactly the type of harsh she needed to hear in that moment.

"I imagine he wouldn't like it..." Monica admitted, imagining the horrified look on Joel's face if he caught them in the act. But at the same time, she felt little sympathy. If he'd played his cards right, if he had the stones to ignite her fires in the same way David had, he could have been the one Monica was serving. But that wasn't Joel's nature, and Monica doubted she would be responding in the same way for him that she was for David. Her partner wouldn't stir the bimbo to life within her. She'd give him a tame, quiet little blowjob, and his dick would never even touch the back of her throat, and he'd thank her for it afterwards. But David... his was the type of cock that had earned the right to fuck her face. To fuck her throat until he owned it.

Monica was staring at David's pillar the whole time they were talking, and with her spit glistening off his shaft, it almost looked like a work of art. The perfect cock, as if carved from marble, an image that she wanted to etch into her memory. And the sight was so divine that she couldn't help but move her face towards it. Still short of breath, she found another way to show her appreciation to it.

Leaning towards it, the busty detective extended her tongue and began licking the sides of his high-caliber weapon. Her tongue followed along his shaft, savoring every ridge of his stiff member, feeling its power on her tongue. She collected sloppy strands of spit dangling from the underside of his shaft, slurping them up and then spitting them back all over his rod. Her tongue explored new areas she hadn't reached yet, closer to the base. Her tongue grazed against the mighty cum-tube on the underside of his shaft, inspiring her next act. Pulling back, she moved her mouth just under the tip and allowed her tongue to drag along the underside of his cock, slathering that tube that carried the cum from his balls out to the head. She did this again and again, laving his meat with tongue worship, her cheek grazing against his heavy ball sack each time she tongued the base of the pole. As she pressed her face firmly against it one last time, she was compelled to keep going, running her tongue down along his sack and onto his huge, hanging balls, licking them delicately.

"Mmm... that's it," David relented, this slight reveal of the pleasure he was feeling encouraging the detective to keep at it, excited to hear that she was doing a good job. She more eagerly tongued his swollen nuts, coating them with more of her hot spit before slurping one into her mouth. A groan of satisfaction rose from her mouth, reverberating through his balls, adding to the pleasure he was feeling. "Haha! That's good, bitch. Yes! You acted so high and mighty, but look at you now! Licking my ball sack! Haha! A few weeks ago, you tried kneeing me in the balls, and now, you're sucking on them! Ugh! Yes... this is amazing!" If Monica was insulted by this statement, the fact that she only more eagerly continued sliding her tongue against his sack certainly didn't indicate that.

Monica's lips were so delicately cradling one of his heavy balls as she licked it worshipfully, finding this lewd act supremely satisfying, nuzzling into the ridge between his nuts, burying her face in his scrotum. David was right. She'd walked into this whole thing superior in all respects. Older, with the wisdom of experience, and the confidence and self-righteousness of a seasoned detective. And David? He was just some punk; a rich kid gifted a strip club to run by his family in order to keep him out of trouble. But the fact that he was so supremely confident and preceptive had enabled him to flip the script on her, and the fact that he'd done so to the degree that she was now on her knees sucking his giant balls sent another warm buzz of satisfaction through her. It was one thing to lose... another to be so deftly outmaneuvered to such a degree that it made her feel so inferior in comparison... it drove her crazy with lust. It was so fucking hot to be conquered so expertly! She popped the entirety of one of his balls into her mouth, sucking it lovingly.

But this wasn't about love. This was about pleasure. David's pleasure. And he was ready to amp up the pressure. He still had a promise to keep.

Reaching down, David sank his fingers into the lustrous brown hair at the back of her head, roughly pulling her face forward into his crotch. He was ready to make a statement. Her lips detached from his balls with a wet pop, and he proceeded to rub his spit-covered cock against her gorgeous face, smearing her own spit onto her cheeks, making a total mess of her.

"MMMPPPHHH!" she groaned into his crotch, but she didn't pull away or fight back, submitting to this lewd act, savoring the feeling of David's powerful cock and heavy balls rubbing against her gorgeous features, even pressing herself against him in order to fully embrace it. Finally, David pulled her face away from his crotch roughly, a move which allowed his pillar to fall toward her face, bobbing in the air before settling into place, directly pointed at her mouth. She knew what was coming next, and all she could do was take in one last breath of air. Looking up at him, she silently opened her mouth and formed her lips into an "O," making herself ready for him.

He didn't hesitate for a moment.

Before she could react, David roughly pulled Monica forward, sliding his cock back into her mouth, across her tongue, and down her throat in one decisive surge. Previously, she'd made it just past the halfway point before pulling back. This time, there would be no pulling back. She was at David's mercy. His massive hand was palming the back of her scalp, his fingers gripping the side of her head tightly. And due to that, she could only kneel and take it as David didn't stop, swiftly reaching the point where she'd backed off before. And when he got to that point, he didn't stop. Holding the back of her head, he pulled her into him as he forced his cock into her mouth, carving out new territory in her throat as it slid in deeper than ever before.

Monica's eyes went wide at this sudden intrusion, this meaty invader lodged in her throat. Her body reacted strongly against this, wanting to reject it out of pure base human instinct. While her gag-reflex had retreated as she got more keyed-up with bimbo lust, it hadn't fully disappeared, and David had dug deep enough to find it, making her cough and hack around his shaft he forced his manhood deeper down her throat. She rose up on her knees, shrugging her shoulders and leaning forward as he pried her throat open, letting him direct his meat down her esophagus, hoping this would earn some mercy. But David didn't relent, knowing he needed to have a firm hand and push her past her previous limits, knowing she would love it in the end. Monica watched helplessly, staring down the barrel as more and more cock entered her mouth, an almost inhuman amount of rigid, diamond-hard, veiny dick passing between her smooth lips. Six inches... seven inches... eight inches into her fucking mouth! She didn't know how this was possible, but somehow, he carved out enough space in her throat to allow more of his length to lodge itself deep in her gullet.

The detective reacted strongly to this, her hands beating against his tree-trunk thighs before digging her nails into them roughly, still seeking mercy, trying to push him away. She coughed, spit escaping her stretched lips, gobs of it landing near the base of his shaft, or falling down to decorate her own naked tits. Her gag-reflex had been fully breached, and her throat was trying to reject the invader. But David made the executive decision to push past her initial objections, knowing she could take it. When he reached about nine inches deep into her throat, he finally paused, holding it there. With Monica's mouth seemingly filled to brim with the 24-year-old's dick, she was finally given a moment's respite. But this wasn't about mercy. This wasn't about the fact that it seemed like her throat could take no more. This was planting a flag. Letting her fully experience his size. Letting her feel its power. With his hand still gripping her hair, holding her in place, he was making it clear that he wasn't going anywhere, that she would not get reprieve until she got the job done. He was making sure she understood that she couldn't hope to fight against this overwhelming, unstoppable force. She could only adjust. She could only submit to its power and hope to win over its affection.

Monica had to prove herself to David... and to his cock.

She couldn't breathe. She was literally choking on David's massive dick. She could barely move with that cock lodged in her throat, bent forward to give him the best angle, impaled on his fencepost-sized meat pole. All she could do was take it. Her hands fell from his thighs as one, hanging limply from her slack shoulders as her predicament became clear to her. Bubbling, sloppy rivers of spit leaked from her overfilled mouth, her puffy lips stretched to the brim around his monstrous shaft. Her eyes were wide, staring up at him, burning red, pleading for mercy, shimmering with tears of exertion. Monica was a firecracker, a badass detective, but she could do nothing more as her will to resist eroded away to nothing. She was at her limit. The fight left her system. The fire faded, flickered, and died.

And yet, some part of her persevered.

Despite the crazed lust that had been coursing through the gorgeous detective's hot body, she was still acting in that capacity. She was still a cop, and it was that side of her doing all this, retaining enough control of herself to keep that angel on her shoulder in charge. It was super-powered by the bimbo energy flowing through her system, proving herself capable of things well beyond her normal limits, but in the end, she was just imitating that darker half of herself. But the cop had reached the limits of what she could do. The cop was not capable of more. She was beaten. She could not swallow another inch of cock. She could not give David what he wanted.

But someone else could.

Monica's better angel had become a slut, and even that wasn't enough for the younger man. David's cock was snuffing out the fiery detective, cutting off her air supply, reducing that fire to smoldering embers.

But before fading into unconsciousness completely, the cop standing guard over the bimbo got desperate. She was left with no option other than the insane. A true Hail Mary. With all other options exhausted, the guard did the only thing she could.

She released the prisoner from her cage.

The woman Monica had once been was vanquished. Defeated. Beyond hope. But this allowed a new woman to rise within her, without the restraints Monica had engineered over years of self-repression. It was the law of the jungle. Only the strong survive. Monica had to evolve, to become something new in order to withstand this treatment. To prove herself to David. She had to become better.

She had to become the best version of herself.

David watched revelation pass across Monica's barely-conscious face. Choking on his cock, her cheeks blushing deep red, her eyes glazed and empty due to her struggle, he could see she was starting to fade. But it was in this desperate moment that she realized what she had to become to endure this ordeal, and what she had to simultaneously let go of... to get the job done. Monica had been a cop for over a decade, and she'd been the type of person that believed in law, order, and justice her entire life. But the whole time, she'd been quelling this other side of herself in order to be the best detective she could be, finding that extraneous part of her personality to be an unnecessary weight on her shoulders, slowing her down in her goal of doing good, honest police work.

Yet, when faced with this moment in time that would decide her destiny, the moment when all her police training was supposed to pay off, when she was supposed to display that heroism, the idealistic notion of being a good cop who stood up to the bad guy... that part of her nature retreated in cowardly fashion, unwilling to raise a fight, revealing itself to be a false armor. She didn't stand up to him. She knelt for him. And with that protection gone, she was left as she currently was, practically naked, on her knees, choking on a big, thick, perfect cock. Yet in this state, with her fire reduced to embers due to lack of oxygen, another side of her was now a fucking inferno. With room to grow, that resolute blaze persisted when all else failed her, her current state was revealed to be the core of her being, everything else being a smokescreen. And when all else failed her, one side of her remained, and it endured because that's who she truly was at her deepest core. Her true fucking nature. She wasn't a cop at her core.

Monica Palmer was a slutty fucking bimbo.

Upon this realization, she was reborn, re-energized, flushed with waves of bimbo energy, empowered to go beyond the limits Monica had imposed on herself as a cop and embrace the true potential of the bimbo slut she'd kept in chains for so long. With the cop within her silent for once, the bimbo could take a seat at the controls. With nothing in the way, she saw the way forward with crystal-clear, lust-tinged vision. She didn't know how long this moment in the light would last, but she intended to make it count, wanting to do everything she could to demolish the other side of herself. She saw a future where she no longer had to pretend to be anything else. To embrace what she was: a stone-cold, hot-bodied bimbo of the highest order. To stretch her limbs and test what she was capable of.

This soul-deep epiphany about her true nature took her mind what felt like an eternity to process, all the while she was cut off from air, choking on David's big, fat cock. But like a near-death experience, it all passed in a matter of moments. And now she was reborn. With clarity. With renewed purpose.

The bimbo was driving now. It was time to see what she could do.

The cop had tried to resist David, fighting back against him as he confidently stuffed her throat full of thick, hard cock. The bimbo tried a different approach. Her hands reached up, and instead of trying to resist this rough treatment, she lunged around and grabbed David's ass, gripping his taut, muscular cheeks firmly for leverage. Inside, empowered by her deepest bimbo instincts, she could feel her throat open up, carving out new territory for what needed to happen. And then, all on her own, fueled by the insatiable needs of the bimbo, she pulled herself the rest of the way. With one unholy shove, Monica did what she thought was impossible, taking every inch of David's massive cock into her mouth. Her lips were sealed around the base. Her throat was filled to the brim. Her nose crushed against his rock-hard pelvis. And David's balls were where they meant to be, smashed against her chin.

She'd done it.

Finally, she'd gone past her limits, pulling herself across the finish line. She didn't know if it was the lack of air, or the satisfaction caused by this sinful accomplishment, but she was seeing stars. She'd never felt so alive!

It was a moment so insane it almost made David blow his top, and he couldn't help but vocalize his pleasure.

"Holy FUCK!" David groaned in shock. He'd had high expectations for the hot detective, but to see her actually fulfill his wildest fantasies made his cock throb. Most women weren't capable of this, throating all of his meat at once, but David always knew this one was special. Most women weren't built for sex like Monica was... It was about time she allowed herself to be used to her full potential. "Good FUCKING girl!" he called out approvingly, patting the back of her head affectionately, feeling her throat squeezing at his meaty length, gulping and grasping, molding to his impressive size firmly. This was a new experience for him, and he wanted to get his money's worth, savoring the moment by literally rubbing her face in it, pressing her head against his torso, sliding his balls across her chin in victory.

Once Monica had proved herself, he released his hold on her, his hand lifting off the back of her head. For a second, Monica didn't acknowledge this, still pressing herself against his pelvis firmly, embracing the feeling of having her mouth and throat totally stuffed full of cock, displaying her capabilities to David and erasing any doubts he may have had. She gagged and gurgled on his length loudly, spit bubbles and rivulets of saliva erupting from between the near airtight seal her lips made around the base of his cock. The fact that she had almost no air in her lungs was secondary. In the moment, inhaling cock was more important. She would do this for as long as she had to.

Having fully proven herself, David was the one to make this choice for her, grabbing her by the hair again, gathering her long, lustrous chestnut brown waves in his fist and pulling her face back, allowing his thick, smooth shaft to re-emerge from between her lips, absolutely drenched with her broiling spit. It was when the swollen, angry head of David's massive dong emerged into the open air again that Monica finally inhaled a new breath of air, gasping deeply like a drowning woman, filling her empty lungs. It burned, and it hurt, but it was a good hurt. It was like she was born anew. She had taken her first breath as a new woman. These were the first few breaths of Monica, the total bimbo slut. And if there were any doubt of this shift, after catching enough breath to re-energize her, she looked up at David and gave him the most devilish, hungry, lust-inducing smirk she'd ever given anyone, before uttering a sentence so hot it made even a stud like him weak in the knees.

"Aren't you gonna fuck my face, Daddy?"

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