Cop Town Girl Ch. 03

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Transgender cop and her lesbian friend explore each other.
8.3k words
4.67
11.7k
15

Part 3 of the 5 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 05/03/2019
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MicheleNylons
MicheleNylons
3,889 Followers

Chapter Three - Tunnel

Penelope awoke on Saturday morning and after she had showered and recovered enough from her hangover she sent Brin Longmire a text to which she got no response. She had a busy day packing up and moving into her new apartment so she didn't really care that he didn't respond. She moved her stuff into her pokey little apartment which was located in one of the least salubrious areas of the city. She was just happy to be an appointed police officer and to be able to live her life as she wanted, free of the shackles of the Police Academy.

After she had moved her meagre possessions into her new digs she sent another text to Brin to see if their Saturday night date was still on but again she got no reply. She called him twice but he didn't answer and she started to think that her fear that Brin just wanted a one night stand might ring true.

She had plenty to do and of course all of the tailoring services accredited to the Balwyn City Police Department wanted nothing to with her so she bought a second hand sewing machine and set about tailoring her uniforms to fit, which took up most of her time over the weekend.

She unpicked and re-sewed her blouses so that they fitted her unique frame and her size B breasts and did the same with the two jackets she had been issued. The pants presented a problem because she would have to take them apart to put a lining in them and she decided to just peg and crutch them so they fitted her better; she would continue to wear pantyhose underneath them to combat the itchy fabric until she could buy a better quality garment. She worked on her skirts, lifting the hems, shaping them to fit and putting in a kick pleat as she had seen other female police officers do. When she finished she had a decent array of uniforms that fitted her very nicely.

Of course being in Texas, the Balwyn PD was very pedantic about their choice of firearms. Each new police officer was issued with their service sidearm, a Smith and Wesson M&P40 .40 calibre and also entitled to an off duty weapon they could carry concealed. Penelope went to the accredited gun store, showed the gunsmith her credentials and took her time selecting her personal weapon. She took a Glock 27 .40 calibre subcompact to the indoor range at the back of the store and after putting fifty rounds downrange she decided that it would be the perfect weapon for her. It used the same ammunition as her service weapon which was handy.

Saturday night she called her mother and then Kyle and told them that she had graduated and was now a police officer in the Balwyn City Police Department but neither seemed particularly interested. Both of them implored her to return to Berkeley California so she clipped the conversations short, advising both of them that she had chosen the career that she intended to pursue at this stage of her life.

All of Sunday was taken up with sewing and trying to make her apartment liveable and having received no responses from Brin to either her text messages or telephone calls she gave up on him. She concentrated on presenting herself at Police Plaza on Monday as a professional and fully trained Police Officer, willing to learn on the job and be the best she could be. She put Brin Longmire in the 'tranny chaser' box, she was disappointed but not surprised. She knew that her own behaviour was probably a contributor to the situation, behave like a slut and get treated like a slut.

With her uniforms tailored, her weapons issued and feeling exhilarated at being free of the Academy she finally felt like a real police officer, she slept very soundly on Sunday night looking forward to starting her new career.

Penelope turned up at Police Plaza on Monday morning ready to serve and protect, the motto drilled into the cadets at the Police Academy. She was nervous but excited, wearing her blue pants and jacket with her sliver shield pinned to her chest. Police Officers were only allowed to relax their jackets when it got too hot or if they were in the confines of Police Plaza or a precinct house and then they pinned their shields to their belts on the top of their pants or skirts if they were female. The badges were too heavy to pin on their shirts and blouses.

All of the graduating class had been directed to report to the morning shift rollcall brief to receive their assignments. Most of them would be assigned to a more experienced police officer and conduct patrol and response duties. Penelope went to use the ladies before the brief and was not surprised to find that the doors to toilets which were marked 'Gentlemen' and 'Ladies' had been defaced. The Ladies sign had a crude drawing of a woman sporting an erect penis and the word 'Trannies' written on a piece of paper taped to it. She snatched it off and threw it in the bin and used the facilities.

She followed the signs to the briefing room or 'squad room' as police officers called it and found the place packed with men and women dressed in blue. She was shocked to see that a pull-down screen at the front of the room had a pornographic movie projected on it. On closer inspection she realised that she and Brin Longmire were the stars of the movie.

"Asshole" she hissed under her breath.

She hadn't noticed that Brin had turned on the camera of his phone and trained it on the bed when he had put it on the nightstand in her room. She decided that being demure and submissive was not a course of action to take this time. She would put Brin Longmire back in his box.

Penelope strode to the front of the squad room and clicked the laptop, freezing the frame so that Brin Longmire was mid-stroke fucking her in the ass. She put her face right up to the screen and studied it for a beat and turned to the assembled police officers.

"Hey you know they say the camera adds on ten pounds; funny how in your case it didn't make your tiny wiener look any bigger at all Brin," she said.

"I think a girl's got a right to something that comes close to satisfying her; isn't that right ladies?" she held up her hand, her thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

The squad room burst out laughing while Brin Longmire blushed and lowered his head in shame.

"Maybe that's why your wife is so pissed off at you Brin; you can't bring home the meat!" a bon-vivant announced.

"So you've been putting a hotdog in the front of your PT shorts all these years to make yourself look bigger? Is that why you only ever want to fuck with the lights out?" a female officer joked from the back of the room.

Brin seethed with anger and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Penelope switched off the projector and the laptop, and made her way to the back of the squad room, happy that she had turned the situation around on Brin. All of the minorities were situated at the rear of the squad room; the pecking order was still in play outside of the Academy.

The Duty Sargent called roll and gave a brief on wants and warrants, local crime patterns, and finally issued duty assignments. Every officer got paired up except her.

"Bishop; evidence room," he barked and turned to leave.

Penelope sprang forward and caught the Sargent on the shoulder.

"Hey! How am I supposed to complete my training as a police officer if I don't get out on patrol?" she implored him.

"Bishop, I just issue duty assignments; I don't write them, see the Lieutenant," he replied.

He leaned in very close and whispered in her ear.

"If you don't like the evidence room you can always come to my office and suck my dick. It's bigger than Longmire's," he grinned.

Penelope blushed.

"And go home at lunchtime and change; you're in the wrong uniform," he growled.

Penelope found the evidence room. There was a Perspex window with a large slot for accepting and issuing evidence, beside it was a door fitted with a security lock. She knocked on the door and it was opened by an old fat policeman whose food-stained shirt was bursting at the buttons.

"Oh it's you, they told me you'd be working for me," he bit into a sandwich and opened the door to let her in.

"That's your work station there," he pointed with his sandwich.

"They taught you how to log evidence at the Academy right? Well make a start on that," he waved at a huge accumulation of evidence bags piled on her desk and beside it on the floor.

"I'm Penelope Bishop," she held out her hand trying to be civil.

"I know what you are. Get started, those bags won't log themselves," the man dropped his bulk into his saggy chair and concentrated on eating his sandwich which he was washing down with a litre of Coke.

Penelope soon came to realise that officer Tony Abbot was the laziest man on the force. He worked in the evidence room because he was too unfit for patrol duties and no one would partner with him. He was also a drunk who kept a pint of cheap liquor in his desk which he usually started drinking at lunch. Besides eating and drinking, his other favourite pastime was watching porn on his desktop computer. He deliberately didn't cover the screen or turn down the volume, even when she asked him to do so. He was fast approaching retirement age and was only hanging on to maximise his pension.

During the lunch break she drove home in her Honda to change. She removed her jacket, kicked off her shoes, took off her pants and shucked out of her black pantyhose and replaced them with regulation smoky grey pantyhose; being fifteen denier they were a lot sheerer than the black ones she wore under her pants. She smoothed them up her legs, admiring the feel of the gossamer fabric on her toned legs. She put on her skirt and smoothed it out. It fitted her well, the hem was much shorter than regulation and showed a lot of leg; she stepped into her low-heeled dress shoes and but her jacket back on. She clipped her sidearm and to her duty belt and put it on. It was weighty having her weapon, spare ammo, an extendable baton, capsicum spray, and police radio attached to it.

Technology had come along way and the police radio, or PRs as the cops referred to them, was lightweight and state of the art, it was encrypted and connected to an earpiece by Bluetooth. It was also linked the tablet inside the officer's allocated vehicle. The PR had a GPS tracker incorporated and could send voice and data. She was required to wear the PR whenever she was on duty and not in the stationhouse. She would take off her duty belt when she went back in the evidence room and hang it on a peg beside Tony Abbot's duty belt, whose weapon she noted was grimy and most likely had not been unholstered for months. She could also take off her jacket and clip her shield to her belt.

She made quite the impression when she came back into Police Plaza; she confidently walked down the corridor to Evidence turning heads as she went.

Now that she was wearing a skirt, Tony Abbot found a new pastime. All of the evidence had to be boxed and stowed once it had been bar-scanned, checked for tampering and chain of custody and had a crime number assigned to it. The evidence box was assigned the same crime number and the computer told the operator precisely where on which shelf to put it among the labyrinth of shelving they called the 'stacks'. Tony Abbot reprogrammed the computer to assign most of the boxes to the top shelf which meant Penelope had to climb up the wheeled ladder about ten feet to stow the boxes.

It was a two person job and Tony would stand under the ladder looking up her skirt while handing her the boxes. She once even caught him with his hand down his pants while he gawked at her underwear.

There was one bonus to working in the evidence room; Tony Abbot usually fell asleep around two in the afternoon, earlier sometimes depending on when he hit the bottle, and that left her free to check the evidence relating to her father's murder. It took her about two months to become completely familiar with the evidence logging software and confident enough that she could search for evidence without leaving any trace of her having done so.

Penelope went into the stacks of shelving and laid out some cleaning products and wipes on the table; it was to be her excuse for being back there if caught. Then she logged in and found the crime number assigned to Charlie Bishop's murder and the location of the evidence pack into the stacks. She climbed the ladder and took down the evidence box assigned to his crime number. There evidence bags assigned to the case consisted mainly of spent cartridge cases, crime scene photographs and forensic material such as fibres, prints, and some of the his clothing.

She choked when she saw his uniform shirt soaked in dried blood but she was more interested in the red velvet bag that she had seen in the photographs left under her pillow. She squeezed the evidence bag containing the red velvet bag and was almost certain that it was empty. But she decided to open it anyway. She ripped open the plastic evidence bag open with her teeth and extracted the red velvet bag and pulled on the drawstring. It appeared to be empty but on further inspection she felt a miniscule bump in the bottom right corner of the bag.

Penelope reached in and dragged out a fragment of stone with her fingernail; it glowed a dull red. The put the red fragment into a small ziplock bag and tucked it into her pocket. She lay out everything in the evidence box and took photographs of everything with her phone. Next came the tricky part; she put the red velvet bag into another evidence bag and sealed it and then went out front to her desk. Tony Abbot sat comatose in his chair with his head tilted back snoring and she carefully sat down and scanned the barcode on the evidence bag, replacing the evidence bag number in the online evidence log. She went back out into the storage room and did her best to return all of the evidence bags back into the box in the same order that she could best recall and then climbed the ladder and returned the evidence box to its assigned place.

"Whatcha doing up there 'legs'?" it was Tony's demeaning nickname for her.

Penelope was shocked and nearly fell off the ladder. She recovered the best way she knew how.

"I was going to call out to out to you Tony; can you pass me up the spray and wipe, some of these shelves are really dusty," she smiled down at him.

It was a thin alibi; Balwyn PD hired civilian cleaners and those who had to clean in sensitive areas of building were security cleared to do so but no one wanted to wipe down acres of shelving. Besides it gave Tony the ideal opportunity to look up Penelope's skirt. She might be a tranny but those legs clad in sheer grey nylons and that ass encased in those pretty satin panties were a delight to behold.

Tony passed the cleaning products up to Penelope and she deliberately stepped out and put a foot on one shelf to balance herself which caused her skirt to open wide so that Tony could enjoy the view. He lost any interest in why his partner was amongst the stacks by herself . Instead he spent a leisurely half hour gazing up Penelope's skirt until he couldn't take it anymore. Then he raced back to his computer to bring up some tranny porn and opened his desk to extract the little nylon footlet that he put over his cock when he masturbated. Penelope knew about it and called it 'crusty the sock'.

"Just keep cleaning back there Bishop; I'll call you when I need you," Tony called out as he extracted his erect cock from his pants.

She was already down from the ladder, leaning back against the shelving smiling to herself.

"Men! They are so fucking easy," she whispered to herself.

Penelope had a different moral code than most people. She was not shy about sex and she liked it, as had been evidenced in her willingness to trade blowjobs with boys she liked when she was younger and then her outright slatternish behaviour when she had almost demanded that Kyle Beamish and Brin Longmire fuck her. She was not afraid or disgusted by using sex as a means to get her way so long as she enjoyed it. She didn't particularly like that fat slug Tony Abbot looking up her skirt while she performed for him on the ladder, but it did the job of distracting him.

In fact Penelope didn't think of herself in terms of being homosexual, heterosexual, or bisexual. She was of course transgender, but her sexual peccadillos varied to the extreme. She just thought of herself as sexual.

Which was proven not long after she had moved into her apartment. At first she was preoccupied with all the hassles that go with moving into a new abode, changing her mailing address, selecting an Internet provider, getting her name on the utilities, decorating the place, generally making a home for herself. She spent a lot of time researching her father's murder, as much as she could from open sources. But she soon craved company.

She had received plenty of offers of casual sex from some of the other police officers; especially those who had seen the video of her fucking with Brin Longmire, but even though some of then were handsome she didn't trust them after the incident with Brin. Besides, she might not be the most moral person she was not going to let some policeman 'hate fuck' her. They might want to get into her pants but those assholes still treated her like shit at work.

One of the few exceptions was Molly Harper. She renewed her childhood friendship with Molly and they became drinking buddies. They stayed away from the Longhorn and Molly took her to the few gay bars, tranny bars and other eclectic drinking holes in Balwyn that she knew of, usually on Friday and Saturday nights.

One night she took Penelope to a dyke bar called The Tunnel which was a different experience for Penelope. She found that she quite liked being a in a 'women-only' bar, away from leering men who usually baulked when they discovered that she was trans. Not that she didn't receive more than a few appreciative glances in The Tunnel. As usual she was dressed ultra-femme, short black leather skirt, mauve satin blouse worn open to show her breasts, sheer tan pantyhose and shiny black 'fuck-me' pumps. Her long blonde hair was teased out, her makeup heavy and her jewellery cheap and excessive; she liked to dress this way when they went bar-hopping.

She sat beside Molly who was dressed in her usual weekend attire consisting of jeans, Western shirt and cowboy boots. She was a big girl but carried her weight well; most of it concentrated in her large bosom and booty-butt, and she made the most of her dark wavy hair which framed a face that was pretty with only a little improvement from cosmetics. They were drinking beer with JD chasers; both of them liked to drink, sometimes to excess and both were well in the bag again tonight.

An attractive woman wearing an elegant tailored white pantsuit complete with a trilby hat approached. Her makeup was carefully applied, her shoulder-length red hair had been straightened and dyed with deeper red highlights, she appeared to be wearing spike-heeled Jimmy Choo's. She exuded confidence, glamour and refinement and a cloud of expensive perfume.

"You always go for the lipstick lezzies don't you Harper?" the woman sidled between them, smiling salaciously.

"Penelope is my friend," Molly grinned back at her.

"With benefits?" the woman's grin widened.

"You would be surprised what benefits Penelope is endowed with; but why don't you ask her yourself Gillian?" Molly said sarcastically.

"Penelope Bishop meet Gillian Wells, my good friend and one time lover," Molly made the introductions and Gillian turned to Penelope and leaned in and kissed her cheek which Penelope found a little forward.

"Oh much more than 'one time', Molly," Gillian slid her hand along Molly's thigh.

"You know what I mean Gillian," Molly countered and removed Gillian's hand.

Gillian feigned pouting in a childish way, her bright-red lipsticked lips puckered.

MicheleNylons
MicheleNylons
3,889 Followers