Undercover

Detective Lindsey Meyers had recently been promoted to the Vice Division of her precinct, which was a dream come true for her. She hated to see how drug dealers and pimps exploited young, powerless people. Most of all, she hated the pimps who turned young, trusting women into sex workers.

Her strong feelings on the subject stemmed from her own experience growing up a a woman in America. Although, honestly, her experience was anything but normal. Lindsey was not an average girl, she was so strikingly beautiful, gorgeous, and downright sexy that she couldn't help but draw the attention of every man who happened to be around her.

From head to toe, she seemed to be ripped straight of some teenage boys fantasy. She had long, full blonde hair on a smooth, wrinkle-less face which boasted a pair of full, red lips. Encrusted on her face were two bright sapphire eyes which would be the first thing anyone would notice about her if not for what she boasted further down her body: a pair of succulent, gravity defying, perky GGG cup breasts. Ever since she had begun to grow her bust, she had been accused of getting breast implants, but the truth was that her breasts were completely natural, although hey put most augmented breasts to shame. Her arms and midriff were toned from daily exercise and healthy eating and below that her rear, like her breasts, seemed to defy all logic. Perched atop her toned, athletic thighs was an ass which might be visible from orbit. A round, athletic bubble butt which caused the men whose heads Lindsey's breasts made turn reverse their course and follow her for a few city blocks.

Lindsey was aware of her rare beauty. It was impossible not to be, as she was hit on, asked out, and one time even proposed to everywhere she went. Guys would frequently find excuses to get close to her, and do their best to cop a feel if they could. Lindsey felt nothing but contempt for these men. And so, as mentioned before, she decided to dedicate her life to protecting women from exploitative men.

Along the way, she had found one man she could trust. Her husband, Dr. Brandon Meyers. Brandon was a kind, soft-hearted man who always supported Lindsey's dreams. He had never spoken about her as an object or shown any of the same behavior of so many of the other men in Lindsey's life. He was handsome to boot. So Lindsey fell wildly in love with him.

Today, Lindsey was attending her first meeting in a new anti-prostitution task force she had been assigned to. Apparently, it was going to focus on pimps who were using social media to target women and recruit them into their prostitution rings under the guise of "easy money."

Once everyone had arrived, the meeting began. Her captain, Simon Juarez, explained the operation.

"You'll be creating fake social media profiles to get the attention of these guys. We have a database of login credentials, images, and profile ideas you can use while creating them. Once you're on, you'll friend one of the people on our target list, either a suspected pimp or bottom bitch, and do your best to get them to say something incriminating and schedule a meetup. Once you do that, get in touch with me and we'll send a unit to pick them up."

Lindsey listened to the meeting and scrolled through the materials that had been provided to her on her ipad. The database was full of pictures of scantily clad women. I wonder what kind of luck I would have if I used my real picture? She found herself wondering and then grew ashamed at herself for even considering the possibility.

"This isn't a particularly complicated operation, so I won't be breathing down your necks. We'll plan to meet again in two weeks to do status updates, but in the meantime just use the materials, schedule meetups, and let's get some of these shitstains off the streets! Ok?"

The meeting attendees responded with a "Yes sir!" In unison, and the meeting concluded.

Lindsey went back in her office and began to put together a profile. After an hour or two, she had created one: Mary McDaniels. Mary was a sophomore at the local university and exactly the kind of girl that these jerks liked to target. She picked a brunette girl who looked like she could be a model for the profile photo.

After that she sent out a flurry of friend and message requests to individuals on the list and by the time she was done, it was the end of her work day. She logged off and locked her computer and left for home.

That night, Lindsey and Brandon sat in their den after dinner. Brandon was reading a book and Lindsey was reading an article on her phone when she suddenly thought of the profile she had set up. She glanced over at Brandon and thought about telling him about the assignment. Normally, there wasn't anything she would keep from him. He might think it's a little weird... Maybe I should just wait until things are a little further along. She concluded, and set up the profile on her phone.

When she logged in, she was surprised to see how many of her friend requests had been accepted. She glanced through the names and checked to see if she had any information on them. One name in particular caught her eye "Dashawn Sanders." According to her unit's database, he was believed to be one of the most notorious pimps in the city, apparently preferring to go after higher class women and turning them into his prostitutes. I need to take him down. She decided.

She decided to send him a message.

Mary: Hi!

She looked anxiously at her phone, and then let out an excited sigh when she saw his online indicator switch to green. A few seconds later he was typing, and then his response appeared.

DaShawn: Sup, I kno u?

Lindsey tapped her phone screen, suddenly nervous and unsure about how to proceed.

Mary: Nooo, i've just heard ur a cool guy. Thought we might get along ;p

Lindsey got chills, she hated trying to put the charm on someone like this. If she could have it her way, she'd be booking him into jail. That time will come. She reminded herself.

Dashawn: Hmmm.....

Dashawn: Sorry girl. u not really my type. My girls gotta be 10's.

Dashawn: Peace.

His online indicator switched off.

Lindsey was shocked. The profile she had made, Mary, was obviously a beautiful girl. A slender brunette with a model-like body. What kind of girls does he look for? Would I..? She suppressed the thought and went back to the catalog of picture for creating profiles. She browsed through them, but she couldn't honestly say that any of the women could compare to Mary. I don't think Mary can compare to me either..

As much as she tried to get the idea out of her head, she kept thinking that making a profile using her own pictures would be a surefire way to get his attention. I can change all the privacy settings so no one else sees it, and I can use a fake name. I think it would work.... She found herself thinking. Finally, she sighed and closed her laptop. I need a break..

The next day at work, Lindsey couldn't focus at all. She felt her mind keep slipping to what her profile would look like. What name she would use. What pictures she would upload. Can I really go through with this? She kept asking herself. But by the end of the day she had decided. If I can use my gifts to get this scumbag off the streets, I need to do it. Lindsey did her best to ignore the small feeling of excitement she felt building up in the pit of her stomach.

When she arrived home, she knew that she had a few hours until her husband would make it back, so she quickly changed out of her work clothes and began picking skimpier clothes from her closet for the pictures: swim suits, short shorts, yoga pants, and the like. Lindsey had never been the type to show off too much, so she didn't have anything that was overly skimpy or revealing, but the clothes she picked were definitely good enough to show off her figure.

An hour later, she had a veritable catalog of pictures that she could probably sell for several thousands of dollars if she had a mind to.

"Alright, let's do this." She said, and created the new profile "Molly Meridian" was a name she thought. She uploaded the photos and triple checked the privacy settings, and then browsed to Dashawn's profile and added him as a friend.

Now I wait. She took a deep breath and put her phone on the counter and then left to put the clothes away and change into something more normal.

When she came back, she was surprised to see she had received a message, from DaShawn! Her heart skipped a beat. She told herself it was nervousness, but if she were being honest, there was something else mixed in. Excitement? Pride? She didn't want to entertain it, and opened the message.

DaShawn: Ay girl, i kno you?

Lindsey's heart was pounding. She began to type a reply, doing her best to get into the mindset of the kind of girl she thought he would be looking for.

Molly: No ;p. But I've been hearing rumors about you, I think ur the kind of guy I want to kno

Lindsey sent the message and then brought her phone to her chest. Why do I feel like a schoolgirl messaging her crush? I hate this guy. I want him to rot in jail. She reminded herself. But another thought crept in, Am I pretty enough to be his girl? She blushed and quickly suppressed the thought, looking back at her phone. He was typing.

DaShawn: Haa, i gotchu.

DaShawn: Look girl, u really fkn fine

Lindsey felt a rush of elation.

DaShawn: But lots of fake profiles these days. Need u to prove u real.

DaShawn: Send me a pic, write DaShawn on one of those big ol titties.

Lindsey felt her face run hot when she read the message. Is he crazy? Well, I guess he's right, I messaged him with a fake profile yesterday. But if I write on myself how will I hide it from Brandon..? She grabbed hurried to her room and grabbed a tank top that showed a decent amount of her cleavage and went into the bathroom and found a tube of lipstick. She changed into the tank top and looked down at her large breasts with the open lipstick in hand. Am I really about to do this? She asked herself, but then strengthened her resolve. I need to take this guy down. She wrote in the best handwriting she could manage from the awkward angle. After that, she checked her make up and then took a selfie, pushing up the tops of her breasts and showing off the marking he had ordered.

With a deep breath, she sent the photo. He was quick to reply.

DaShawn: dam girl i thot i lost u. hmm fuck. u lookin real good. u can deflee be one of my girls. maybe my main bitch, shit.

Lindsey felt butterflies in her stomach and smiled to herself, but quickly snapped out of it. What a pig. She thought.

Molly: Thank you! <3

DaShawn You can call me daddy from now on girl. Im a lil busy today but imma need to meet yo ass tomoro. 3 o clock, meet me out in front of Eastside bowling alley. Dress sexy.

Daddy? Is this guy serious? Is what her mind said, but when she had read the word she felt a rush, like a jolt of lightning through her body. Her nipples were poking through the thin fabric of her top, and it was like a leak a sprung in her panties. Why is my body reacting this way? What is wrong with me? She asked, and took a deep breath.

Molly: Ok! See you tomorrow :)

A few seconds passed and DaShawn responded.

DaShawn: Bitch, what did i just say?

Lindsey felt her stomach drop. I'm an idiot. She quickly tapped away on the phone.

Molly: Sorry Daddy! See you tomorrow, Daddy!

She sent the message, and then afterwards realized she had done so almost out of instinct, without a second thought.

DaShawn: Thats better.

Lindsey saw that his online indicator went grey. Lindsey stared at her phone for a few more seconds, then sighed and stepped into the shower to wash off the writing, but before she did, she masturbated for the first time since she had gotten married, staring at the red name on her breasts as she massaged her clit. As she reached her orgasm, she let out a moan, "Daddy!!"

To be continued...