Alicia's Nipples Can Cut Glass

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This story is a sequel to 'Alicia Grows a Pair' but is stand-alone.

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"Can you pop into the briefing room for a minute please?"

Alicia was sitting at her desk, busy daydreaming about the operations she'd been on recently. She was a member of a police undercover unit that specialised in international smuggling, but she was clearly a lowly pawn in high-stakes games. Now Anthony, her Detective Sergeant had a new job for her in the unfamiliar world of covert operations.

The DS closed the door firmly behind them, "We have a new operation for you, which looks like it fits your skills and attributes". That was an ominous phrase and it hung in the air for a minute while she sat down on a seat. Several others were there already, seated on the thinly cushioned chairs around a long table.

The room was large, gloomy and windowless. The computer monitors were all switched off today, unplugged with the wires hanging down to show they weren't connected to anything. From inside nobody could see that the office was on the top floor of an anonymous building that appeared to be part of a car dealership.

Alicia had learned that secrecy and security were endemic through the department, nobody knew what others were doing unless they were involved in the same operation. It was considered poor form to make enquiries about what people were working on and no sensible answer would be forthcoming anyway. There were no WW2 'Walls Have Ears' type posters on the walls but it felt like it, people might chat about getting drunk on their days off or where they went on holiday, but work was kept strictly to the computer or private meeting rooms.

However, now they were out of earshot of outsiders they would be updated. Just as far as necessary and no further. First they was told the allocated codename; it was Operation Lightfoot, generated by some computer algorithm to ensure anonymity. Code-names that indicated the subject matter in any way were for the Christmas drink-drive campaign, when they used things like 'Sleigh-ride' that any moron could work out. Then she was given a briefing sheet, which she knew contained some unique wording that was different in some way from everybody else's. That was so that if it fell into the wrong hands and was published, a simple comparison against a database would reveal just whose version had been disclosed. It was best if she looked after it.

Anthony cleared his throat self-importantly, "Lightfoot is part of our remit of proactively investigating what appears to be an organised crime group. At this early stage it is a lifestyle investigation into a person who is living well beyond their visible means. The subject is immensely wealthy, travelling around the globe by private jet, the full works. We don't know the source of the wealth; there's almost nothing being declared tax-wise so that's what we want to find out. What in the world is going on."

He went through the paper, not doing much more than reading it out. Alicia though that they could save some time and read it themselves. Then he addressed her directly, "Alicia. What it comes down to, is we need someone who can infiltrate the inner circle. That person has to be someone who can come across as a bit of a body-builder, someone who obviously knows their way around a set of dumb-bells but can move up to the next level with proper training."

Instinctively Alicia looked down at her arms, she had been working out a lot and as a result she had a decent set of biceps. She was fairly satisfied with her look overall; she had a flat stomach, firm buns and bulging thighs due to her spending her lunch breaks at the office gym and even an hour after work in her own time. She'd always had an athletic build but she'd recently caught the exercise bug and the effect of the extra effort was there for all to see.

Anthony was still talking, "Alicia, your way in is going to be via a gym linked to the suspect. From what we know this might involve some modelling, maybe pole dancing or bar-work. Tight T-shirts, that sort of thing. It'll all need some initiative, you'll have to play it by ear. If you're not comfortable with that, say now. That's important. We'll look for someone else'. He paused expectantly.

Alicia thought for a moment. People didn't seem to pay her much attention but she liked it on the rare day when they did. On holidays abroad where nobody knew her she got a kick out of going topless and getting a perfect tan. Seeing people on the beach secretly check out her pert little boobs was amusing and this sounded like it could be fun, indulging in a bit of exhibitionism. She hadn't joined 'the job' to hand out parking tickets. She tried to pay attention to the details as Anthony continued but when he came to the obligatory health and safety spiel at the end she'd heard the statutory warnings before and her mind wandered into some weird fantasy.

What would Anthony look like naked? Did he have a big stiff one? Or would he have a little lazy-lob hiding under a pot belly?

Would he lust over her if she got her perfectly shaped but tiny tits out? Her nipples were impossible to ignore, always erect and coffee-brown against the honey coloured flesh. Maybe he was into massive mammaries and nobody ever accused her of having those. She had been ironing-board flat until she had her implants, the smallest available, just enough to give her some shape; she didn't want to look like one of those girls with half-grapefruits bolted on. She'd read stories of how they all lost all sensation and had numb nipples syndrome. How would any boyfriend be enticed by those fake things? Surely a lad couldn't get all lusty over those.

She remembered her first lust. Was it love? She'd thought so at the time, the memory made her heart jump even now. From things she'd heard from her girlfriends, they didn't always have happy memories of their first time, or even their first boyfriends. Their cherry-pickers always turned out to be boorish idiots.

But she had fond recollections of Tommy. She had come home from her holiday, he had gone home from his. Never to see each other again. What was he doing nowadays, would he be pleased to see her again if she were to look him up? Maybe he was married with children and a dog and she'd be arrested as a stalker.

They had taken a shine to each other over a game of beach-soccer and later on it had developed into a couple of encounters in the dunes where they'd done the deed. Broken their mutual ducks, plucked their cherries.

Afterwards they'd spent much the rest of their holidays together languishing in their hotel rooms exploring each other's bodies. It was strange how she'd been confidently topless on the beach in public, running across the sands with the breeze flowing over her body. But now, in the privacy of her room lying on the bed with her boyfriend she had flushed as he gazed at her laying there exposed, uncovered for him. He traced a finger over her belly, over her ribs and slowly, millimetre by millimetre, spiralling in to her sensitive and erect nipple. She had no breast tissue to speak of, certainly not enough to fill his cupped palm as she yearned to do, but he was unconcerned.

But by the time he reached it, it was tingling and she was leaning in so that he touched it more quickly. Then round and round he circled, teasing her, building the anticipation even further. At last he held it between finger and thumb, squeezing ever so gently. She could have fainted with exhilaration.

He kissed it but even more exciting than his lips was the warm breath as he exhaled. Unable to bear it any longer she put her arm around his head and mashed his face against herself, her nipple now between his teeth.

Once she'd recovered herself, she pushed him down to her stomach. Now his breath was on her groin and he repeated the process, running his fingers through the wisps of fair hair that she had down below then tracing the pink crinkles of her labia. With her legs wide apart, she allowed Tommy to stroke her, discovering her moistness and her clitoris that was so prominent and eager to be played with.

She wriggled around to allow him to continue while she returned the compliment, feeling the firmness of his midriff and the softness of the hair that framed his male organ. He was already engorged of course with the eagerness of youth, just as she'd read about in those magazine stories aimed at impressionable females. She practised easing back the skin that hid his glans, purple-red and glistening in the sunlight.

It fascinated her, she was nervous of touching him there; it looked so tender. Instead she moved down to study the parts that had been ignored in the magazines, the parts that she had only really seen depicted in textbooks. His balls were held snugly against his body, but as she nudged him there there was a slow ripple across the skin that reminded her weirdly of the movement of a snake's scales. She repeated the touch and it happened again.

Ignoring his erection, she concentrated on his testicles and felt him ever so tenderly with her fingertip, brushing over the organs that produced his life-force. Cupping the pair together, she held his power in her palm. Eventually she liberated them and kissed them each in turn. She did like a good symmetrical set of balls.

At last she turned to it, the organ that would soon ease into her. It needed kissing, this provider of pleasure, that would be moving her innards aside on its way to her very core. She licked her lips, moistening them ready to envelop that purple tip.

"Just sign here then please", Anthony burst the memory. He held a form for her, yes she'd had this briefing, yes she'd had the notes, yes she wouldn't leave them behind on a bus. Sign all over, starting off neat but ending up a bored scrawl. What had he been droning on about for the last few minutes? It was just official bollocks, like the safety announcements on a flight to Spain. Emergency exits are there, there and there, raise your reclining seats and the window blind before landing.

* * *

She had some preparations to make over the next few days which were taken up with buying new gym kit; her old stuff was showing signs of wear and tear and she needed to make an impression. So she went into the city and searched out the expensive shops that she would never have dared enter otherwise. The tax-payer's credit card took some pain.

She chose some cute bra tops, thong underwear and yoga pants that fitted right up between the cheeks of her ass. Some top-end sports shoes and a few accessories for luck. She had tried the outfits on and decided that some of the bras needed to be a size smaller. She was just about a B cup since she'd been 'done', a small handful but there was always room to slide a finger into the gap. She had some expensive made-to-measure bras which fitted perfectly, but an A cup was filled to overflowing and she liked the way that looked after all those years being flat as a board.

If she needed to be noticed this was the way to do it.

In the changing room of the last store she assessed her appearance; she liked her short androgynous hairstyle that went well with her boyish frame and toned body. The rear-view mirror also allowed her to admire the sight that others saw; her narrow hips compensated by a firm well-developed butt.

Her long legs boasted muscles that induced a wince on the face of anyone who imagined the grip they could likely exert. Yes, she thought to herself, she looked striking, even if only in a lesbian sort of way.

She couldn't imagine looking like the sort of girl that guys always seemed to go for, short cute and voluptuous with wide eyes and full lips that made them imagine what their labia would be like. The style magazines didn't have pictures of six-footers with wide shoulders, biceps and an ass that you could rest a couple of beers on.

Her hair looked like it could do with a refresh, so she booked an appointment with the salon.

By the time she returned to the office she was freshly waxed where it counted, her hands and feet were smartly manicured and her hair was restyled; spiky with shaved sides giving her another couple of inches of height to improve on her already impressive stature. She was the tallest female there by some margin and looked down on most of the male officers, especially when she wore heels. Heads turned when she walked in and she liked that.

* * *

At the gym Alicia went through the induction procedure. A female member of staff called Judy completed the paperwork; a lot had already been filled in online but it appeared that it all had to be repeated for random bureaucratic reasons.

Judy then took her through every piece of equipment, instructing her on safety procedures, how to change the settings, rules on everything from photography to eating and wiping down everything she might have dripped sweat onto. Yuck.

She checked what Alicia wanted from the gym. Once it was established that muscular development was more important than general fitness and weight reduction, Judy recommended the machines that she should concentrate on; it was strength and power all the way. There was a final point; Alicia would need a buddy to train with her for safety and to ensure she had full familiarisation.

It was mid-morning and the place was quiet; the early morning rush was well over and just a couple of guys were lifting iron on the other side of the room. Judy suggested doing the session together, she was already clad in corporate Lycra, so it only took a few minutes for them both to get ready.

Judy showed Alicia the correct techniques for the machines that isolated the individual muscles, this was obviously a far more professional set up than her previous efforts. After the circuit was complete and she was aching in unfamiliar parts, she showed her to a room equipped with cameras and monitors that she called the 'posing room'. Apparently that was where those members who were competing as bodybuilders practised their poses. Alicia wasn't concerned about winning trophies however Judy said that it would serve as a record of her progress.

She told her to undress to her panties to allow a proper record of exactly how she looked, her muscle definitions and fat distribution. There were some storage lockers in the passageway outside for that purpose.

Alicia was uncertain, but Judy demonstrated by removing all her clothing except for a black thong and tensing her muscles. The screens showed her clearly defined stomach muscles and the way her breasts lifted when she tensed her arms. Alicia thought they were unnatural; they were bulbous and had clearly been worked on. There were visible scars underneath them showing where implants had recently been inserted. They were OK but not anywhere near as expertly done as Alicia's.

Judy made her boobs dance to demonstrate her muscle development before placing Alicia before the cameras, she didn't really need to; Alicia was already impressed although it wasn't the look that she aspired to.

Alicia followed suit and saw the difference in the video play-back afterwards. Her back muscles were smoother and without any definition, her legs were developed but nothing like Judy's and her tiny breasts barely twitched no matter how hard she pressed her palms together. Her belly that she had thought to be so taut was in comparison covered in a layer of flab and she needed to diet as well as exercise to eliminate it.

Once the results were saved onto the hard drive Alicia was taken into a sauna room. Judy removed her panties and suggested that Alicia do the same; apparently it was required to be naked in that room.

That felt unusual; it was one thing being topless and doing exercise things, but quite another being nude with not much to do but look at each other. Maybe Scandinavians did that all the time but perhaps they were used to being in saunas with strangers present. However in Alicia's experience there was always some sort of build-up, a lead-in to nudity. Some discussion to prepare the brain, anything. But she braced herself, slipped off her remaining underwear and sat naked on a wooden bench whilst Judy tossed a cup of water onto some coals to release a cloud of steam. At least that drop in visibility provided a slight degree of privacy.

The heat and the steam didn't agree with Alicia. She became light-headed and very quickly found herself feeling as if she were choking and unable to breathe. She was already perspiring from the workout and this did nothing to help, she quickly found herself wishing the steam to clear.

Just then the door opened and a man entered.

He was as naked as them, muscle-bound and obviously a regular at the gym. He had a huge barrel chest covered with tattoos and reminded her of the dog in the Tom & Jerry cartoon. He had quite a small flaccid penis that jiggled as he walked, pushed forwards by his powerful thighs. It would have been polite to knock first, Alicia thought but clearly this was a unisex facility. She wondered if this was a swingers club and if she was up to joining in if it were. Would it be fun or duty? It depended, she decided on how much effort was put into getting her warmed up first. The man was clean shaven and cut, with a decently sized pair of balls held tight and high. She imagined herself cupping them. It could be done, she thought. Provided that he gave her some serious tongue beforehand obviously.

He greeted Judy, nodded at Alicia and sat on a bench on the other side, relaxing with his eyes almost shut.

Alicia tried to avoid inspecting his unimpressive dick but it was impossible. It was there like the metaphorical elephant in the room; he had been at the back of the line when cocks were issued, much like she had been when boobs were. His testicles were more interesting, they were large although not overly so and she could imagine them producing a good hot load when required. It would soon dribble out though, that little penis wasn't capable of releasing it terribly deep. After studying the setup for a while she looked at his face and recognised him as being one of the guys who had been working out earlier.

There was no sign of any group sexual activity and the wooden benches were not comfortable no matter how she fidgeted, so after a decent time Alicia opened the door and left. The showers were in the next room, which had individual cubicles with fresh towels on racks, and at least the water could be set to cool and refreshing.

* * *

Alicia thought back to the tour of the gym. Judy had just dropped her panties and showed her body as if for a discussion project. She did have a good one; for sure the boobs were fake but there were worse ones around. She had small dark areolae and a smooth tan, rippling with muscle even where it didn't seem possible to have muscles and there was not a pale line to be seen anywhere. Her clitoris was clearly visible protruding from between dark and meaty labia. Alicia wondered how it would feel to have something like that. Would it get pinched between her thighs when she went for a run?

Her own clitoris normally hid out of sight, coming out to play with a little enticement; some tongue play or finger-tickling. But that was a beastie with a life of its own.

* * *

After that she went to the gym every morning. Sometimes Judy would 'buddy' her, sometimes someone else. She made sure to visit the sauna after each session, sometimes there were ladies in there, sometimes men and sometimes a mixture or none at all but over the weeks she became more accustomed to it.

It took over a month for anything to happen.

One day Judy met her at the entrance to the camera room and suggested that she checked on her progress after all the hard work. Stripped down to her panties, she allowed herself to be photographed and compared the results to her earlier set. There was actually some visible improvement, noticeably on her stomach and arms.