Zoe's Big Bust

"You have to believe me sir, it wasn't meant to go down that way." Zoe pleaded with a stern man in immaculate uniform while he silently led her through the station to his office. "I just figured that..."

"Sergeant Miller!" Chief inspector Gilchrist sternly stated, cutting Zoe off mid-sentence. "The debrief will take place in my office, are we clear?"

Zoe fell into silence, enhancing the already awkward situation she found herself in as her chief inspector held the door to his office open for her to walk in first, a gesture usually reserved for those in custody and sure sign she was in trouble. The chief inspector let Zoe continue to stand as he flopped into a worn fabric chair.

"So I'm guessing you know why you're here." The chief inspector asked.

"I stand by all my latest policing choices but there has been recent..." Zoe began.

"Cut the pleading the fifth crap, you're not in America. I know you're all about the letter of the law, but believe me the more important thing for your career right now is not getting me even more pissed off then I already am."

"I assume you wish to learn more about the incident on Harbourmouth Road." Zoe stated.

"Good, so, in your own time, but while we're young. Please tell me why video of your granny panties are covering every nonsense collection of syllables considered social media these days?" The chief inspector asked, his rage bubbling under his facade of bureaucratic neutrality.

"My underwear is..." Zoe began, outraged at the tone the chief inspector had taken.

"Now a matter of public record. How did that happen?"

"At 9:42 pm I was called in as backup on a search of suspects reported to have been in possession of illegal substances. Officer needed my assistance as one female suspect claimed they were under 18 and requested a police woman chaperone for the search." Zoe recited, she had read the report so many times it was almost as if it were printed on the lenses of her glasses.

"Urgh, I know all this, tell me what went wrong." The Chief Inspector said as he got out a large thermos flask and poured himself a mug of coffee, stronger than any machine at the station was capable of.

"As the officer wanted to perform a more thorough search than a jacket removal, I vigorously informed him that such a search needed to be performed in an area inaccessible to the public. As we spiritedly discussed the law, the suspects took advantage of our lapse in attention and pulled down my trousers before fleeing."

"You got pantsed while you were arguing with another officer!" The chief inspector yelled to drill home the nub of his anger that had thus far gone unexpressed.

"The officer was out of line. Not only did I outrank him, he was about to perform a strip search on a minor on a public street. That would have opened us up to lawsuits, reputational damage, and..."

"I realise all of that, that's why you're not going to see officer Wainwright at the Christmas party this year." The chief inspector once again interrupted. "But this meeting is about your failings. Did you know your standard issue uniform comes with this fantastic new invention called a belt? It can hold all manner of fantastic devices, but some would say the most fantastic device it can hold is your own fucking trousers."

"Uniform code states that fit should utilise maximum mobility, the belt buckle was too tight for comfortable breathing on the previous buckle hole so I had to settle for a looser setting."

"Why didn't you just take a corkscrew and add a notch inbetween?"

"Uniform customisation is banned by article..."

"Jesus Christ Sergeant! This by the book bullshit got you literally caught with your trousers down. You know what I have to do now, I have work with that smug social media relations prick I was trying to get fired, I have to face some bottom feeders that call themselves tabloid press who have been letting the internet do their job for them, then for good measure I'll have to find a drug in that sweet spot that'll cure the worst goddamn headache ever inflicted on man without killing me." To punctuate his point the Chief inspector took some pills out of his draw and glugged them down with his coffee. He let the silence hover for as long as he could, drinking in the awkwardness that it inspired.

"Um..."

"So here's what's going to happen, you're being reassigned."

"Thank you..." Zoe began, knowing that there were fates far worse than a reassignment that could have been inflicted on her.

"Don't thank me just yet, most people would have fired your ass but I've decided I want you to suffer worse than that. You keep your rank but you're losing your constables and will be back walking a beat. Get ready to be community relations in Tits-bourne."

"...fuck!"

...

The city of Ridgecliff didn't actually have a district called Tits-borne, but it did have a strange small enclave nobody knew what to do with, just south of Titchborne Road.

Squashed into a half square mile surrounded by a train line and a river, the small area had gained a reputation as somewhere difficult to enter, where police response times were slow. However it was not the only hard to police area, Ridgecliff had enough areas of criminality they had started to specialise: anyone looking to buy or sell drugs knew to hang around the university and its associated nightclubs, anyone looking to deal in stolen goods could get anything they needed from the day market in the north east, and anyone looking to indulge even the most extreme sexual fantasies knew to go to the region unofficially christened Tits-borne.

The area had a few houses, a few shops on something equating a small promenade of with a big car park, and a seemingly endless series of accidents that seemed to befall any CCTV cameras in the area. There were no schools to speak of, although there was a park that every local parent knew not to go near.

So that was Zoe's new beat, day in, day out she would walk the streets of Tits-borne, just acting as a police presence to send a message that they were doing something about an area the local paper painted as somewhere Caligula would have been too prudish to enter. She would walk down the road, and people in a variety of scandalous outfits, or quickly donned large coats, would look at her like she was a cat about to cough up a hairball on their carpet, then she'd turn a corner and repeat the process with whichever reprobate was lurking in that shadow.

Zoe had to break up the occasional scuffle or respond to someone calling her about some outrageous sex act that had long wrapped up by the time she had arrived, but in general it actually turned out to be a pretty sweet gig. Sure she got hit on far more than she would have liked, as well as offered jobs that paid a flattering amount of money for unflattering activities. But she was firm enough to prevent people from going too far, although never gaining enough of a reputation that there weren't more people to step up to try and get her involved.

Her Chief Inspector also liked the arrangement, he was expected to keep a visible police presence in the troubled area, but if Zoe made a scene then it would mean another headache for him so a no fuss beat walk was perfect. At least until about 2 months in when he called Zoe into his office before a shift.

"You know me Sergeant Miller, if there's one thing I hate it's fuck-ups." He began, Zoe squirmed wondering if she had done something wrong. "But there is one thing I hate even more than fuck-ups; politics, the collective noun of fuck-ups. So ever since the police and crime commissioner became an elected role..."

"Police reform and social responsibility act 2011" Zoe informed.

"Well done, you know the law. You are a police officer, that's the bare minimum. Next you'll be bragging that you're wearing a hat. Anyway, as I was saying before Detective Sergeant Wikipedia decided to interrupt, policing is now political. The current bloke's a Tory, lets us get away with murder as long as we do it on the cheap. This year he's up for election against some quinoa munching socialist who wants to invest in us, but wants us to spend it on truncheon padding and social workers."

Zoe bit her tongue, she'd always felt the upper echelons were a bit regressive but as a black woman in the police force she knew saying anything even remotely progressive would be devastating for her career.

"So now the Labour one is on the local news, and she's decided that Tits-borne needs his attention. She's announced we need to leave the sex workers alone and focus more on other areas. Something you can attest that we have basically already been doing. But now she's said it, naturally our boss has to publicly disagree and accuse her of putting our citizens in danger of degeneracy by planning to change things to a different flavour of exactly the same. So I'm afraid you find yourself at the bottom of a long chain of important people asking their subordinates the following question: what are you going to do about it?"

"Do I get any additional resources?" Zoe asked.

Chief Inspector Gilchrist didn't have an honest laugh, he didn't have a warm laugh, or even a kindhearted laugh. The only laugh he knew was filled with bitterness and sarcasm, designed to grate on anyone it was pointed at, such as Zoe the moment she finished asking that question.

"Good one. Don't worry this is politics so you don't have to actually make a difference. You don't have to fix the area, just make one big bust and I'll give it to the media bods so they can plaster 'Mission Accomplished' all over the news."

"There aren't really any big timers in Tits-borne, there's some pockets of organisation but mostly it's the area's reputation that organises things and a few protection schemes that keep the punters in line." Zoe inforned.

"I didn't ask for a sociology essay, figure out something. One big bust and then we can go back to you getting a paycheck just for getting your steps in."

...

Zoe took a deep breath as she got out of her car and marched onto Titchborne Road. She was finding these days that her routine was becoming more known, or at the very least someone was keeping an eye on her and letting all the sex workers know she was coming. The streets would either be empty, or she would come across people suspicious in how innocent they were trying to act.

Zoe clearly stood out, she was wearing standard policewoman's uniform, white shirt under a laden stab vest, black trousers held up with a belt holding all manner of law enforcement devices, the classic police woman's chequered cravat, and round bowler hat that she stuffed her medium length blonde dreads into. Even her glasses were wide rimmed for maximum visibility range.

She tried her luck more than usual, engaging those she saw in conversation, trying to spot anything that she could latch onto as a first breadcrumb in finding someone to make her 'one big bust'. But by the time her shift ended she had nothing more than she usually got walking the beat.

Zoe went back to her house that night, and decided to try researching on the internet what Tits-borne was like when she wasn't looking.

Zoe's eyes bulged out of her head when she realised just how much of Tits-borne had been hidden from her during her patrols. She found innumerable videos of men picking up prostitutes she knew from the streets she walked, and filming them as they took them back to their houses to have their way with them.

Beyond that she saw an increasing trend of exhibitionists flocking to Tits-borne, the more common videos were women servicing various clients in the park or down dark alleyways. But as Zoe scrolled through she found people getting more and more brazen, walking down the street naked or even flaunting their body to passing trains. The one video that really took her breath away was of a vaguely familiar asian woman, busty with pierced nipples and covered with tattoos, crouching naked on a street corner as she worked a dildo in and out of her shaved pussy. What took Zoe's breath away was watching herself walk past in the background. She was a couple of feet away from a naked masturbating woman and didn't even notice.

'Holy shit she almost got caught by the filth.' The commenters were quick to point out.

'If I know Tits-borne you can probably fuck that cop for the right price.'

'Guys that's actually a real cop. She patrols the area and would totally have arrested me if she had seen me.' The uploader, a model who went by Deluxxxe replied.

'Ask her for a three way next time you see her.'

Zoe clicked onto the next video and sure enough it was Deluxxe, now dressed but only just, walking right up to her in the street.

"Excuse me officer." She shouted, catching Zoe's attention in the video. "I'm about to get my pussy fucked hard, how would you like to join in?"

"Ma'am I am a police officer, please do not talk to me that way. Now do you have any matters for the police?"

"Does asking to borrow your handcuffs count?"

"I thought not, please do not obstruct my patrol any further." Zoe responded in the video before continuing with her beat.

It said something about the daily smut that Zoe was exposed to that she couldn't recall that specific interaction until she had seen it on the screen. Without even questioning why she immediately scrolled down to the comments section to see the audience response to a porn star making her the centerpiece of her video.

'Jesus, what a frigid bitch. I bet a nice cock would loosen her up in more ways than one.'

'Your profession is much more respectable than hers, ACAB.'

'I'd still fuck her, as long as she asked nicely'

'Imagine being a cop in Tits-borne, everyone having a good time and you just ruining it with your presence.'

The final comment broke Zoe's mood, but it did give her an idea. She wouldn't get anywhere in uniform, but what if she visited Tits-borne in her own time in civilian clothes? She knew this could get her in trouble, but she wasn't breaking any rules, she was just taking a walk in a part of the city she lived in, in her own time.

Zoe put on some sensible clothes, packed her purse with her badge, telescopic baton, and pepper spray just in case, and drove to Titchborne Road.

Zoe couldn't tell if she had become jaded by the stream of smut that came her way on the internet, but she was surprised that she wasn't walking into a modern day Sodom and Gomorrah. There was the occasional prostitute, offering their services far more openly than was seemly, but it was hardly the den of sex and perversion the area had always been painted as, and certainly nowhere near as bad as the cherry picked videos from the internet. The worst Zoe saw was a sex worker wearing a sheer bra where her pierced nipples were clearly visible.

Zoe wandered over to the park, hoping something there would give her a lead. Sure enough, as she sat down on a bench and cocked her ears, she heard a woman yelling in the distance.

"My name is Kandy Kane, and this is my entry for Top of Tits-borne!" She yelled.

Zoe turned her head to see a petite young girl with bright pink hair in pigtails facing a camera she had set up on a tripod. She was wearing a long brown coat, however Zoe only had a moment to observe it before she was watching it fall to the floor revealing the woman's naked body below. The girl shivered as a gust of wind cut through to her core but did not falter in her performance to the camera.

"I know doing my performance in a park is less risky than some entries with girls on the high street. But I wanted room to do my dance routine." Kandy explained. She pressed a button on her phone, triggering a high energy song for her to dance to. Zoe couldn't help but be spellbound as this woman began her uniquely choreographed dance, specifically designed to be as salacious as it was energetic. She clearly had some history of gymnastics and used it to stretch herself to unbelievable angles, all while having the presence of mind to keep herself at the right position so the camera always caught the most revealing angle.

Zoe knew what would have to happen next, the rules were clear, even while off duty an officer must intervene in any law-breaking they observe. Zoe knew she would have to bring this performance to a sudden conclusion.

Only she didn't move. As much as she wanted to will herself into action all she could do was sit and watch as Kandy continued her dance.

'Officers are given leave to decide if nudity is sexualised enough to constitute a high enough degree of obscenity that the subject is committing indecent exposure.' Zoe reasoned to herself. "As this lady is simply dancing I could make the case that...'

Zoe's train of thought was interrupted by Kandy left hand beginning to rub herself through her dance. It was an impressive feat of choreography to include masturbation into the dance routine, a move that forced Zoe to drop her rationalisation.

And yet she still did not intervene. Kandy concluded her dance with a graceful one handed cartwheel that ended with her sitting on the grass spread-eagle, holding her pussy lips open for the camera. Zoe idly played with the baton in her bag but at no point was she able to push herself to go over and deal with this naked performance.

Kandy turned the camera off, picked up her coat and wrapped it back around her body. She then collected up her equipment, and to Zoe's surprise started walking over to her.

"Hope you enjoyed the show." Kandy giggled, showing Zoe that she had not faded into the background as much as she had thought and in fact had spent the whole performance blatantly staring in wonder. "If you want to see more, you'll have to subscribe to Top of Tits-borne and vote for me."

Zoe waited until Kandy was out of sight before rushing back to her car to look into this intriguing new development.

...

Top of Tits-borne was currently just a website with a big pile of 'coming soon' messages and calls for subscribers. It was somewhere between a porn channel and a reality TV show, boasting a series of elimination tasks to ascertain who was Titch-borne's queen of deviancy. The unique selling point was that it was free to all subscribers, they would be making money by allowing subscribers to organise and pay online to sleep with the contestants. Zoe wondered why any self-respecting woman would sign up for this before spotting a page for those considering being contestants.

'Do you have what it takes to be the £1,000,000 slut!' the page blared at Zoe. 'fill out the form below and upload an audition video and you may be on your way.'

Zoe couldn't imagine someone being so desperate as to want to get money that way. She admitted that everyone needed to earn a living, plenty in her community felt the same disgust about her decision to be a police officer, but to her, learning and obeying the rules had gotten her far in life and she knew the police respected that. Flaunting the rules (and your body) shouldn't pay so well without risk, should it? Surely in the long run the stability and rewards of being on the side of law and order was the better option?

That belief had certainly taken a knock when the culmination of Zoe's ideology was her pantsing briefly becoming a viral video and the following functional demotion. She used to have the camaraderie of her fellow officers, but these days she only saw them at clock in and clock out. She walked the streets of Titch-borne alone and then returned to an empty social life, her friends sick of constantly guarded comments and muted parties when the filth was present.

The next day she reported back on her discoveries. Requests for cyber-crimes help with the website was denied, as were requests for undercover support, mobile CCTV, and additional overtime. It really felt like she had been totally abandoned.