Chapter 38

Your first customer of the day was Officer Brandon, the local beat cop and collector of passed out drunks or particularly slow and stupid thieves. This was not the sort of neighbourhood the rule of law was expected to stick its nose too deep into, a survival lesson that the man had clearly picked up early. He mostly just wandered around picking up bribes and passing them on to his higher ups… only noticing things when he absolutely had to. Skeg had already had arrangements with him over some of the more questionable suppliers of tools, back when that was still what the shop actually rented out. Now, though… a new deal had been made, and you knew well enough to go skipping after the man in blue when he knocked for you.

The mid-morning street was as bustling as ever, though you held little fear over the various leering grins anymore. You recognised most of them, and knew no-one was likely to get too grabby while you were trailing behind Brandon. The weakening, autumn sun felt nice upon your arms, thighs and stomach where your skimpy outfit revealed them. Today’s cleanest choice had been a ‘cheerleader’ set. One of the many such flimsy, themed costumes that Skeg had ordered off the internet for you and Jenny. Whenever the old man got drunk he seemed to end up trawling through dodgy websites, finding more poorly-made kinky stripper-wear to dress you up in. Still… it meant you always had something to slip into, when the last set ended up in a shredded pile on the floor.

The officer led you back to his station, a ramshackle affair with little more than two large cells, a receptionist and three half-asleep guards/desk-jockeys. Any real criminals they caught were presumably taken much further into the city, where the cops holding the keys were less likely to pickpocket anyone who wandered in. You knew the game you were going to be playing by now, anyway… it was one of the man’s favourites. He ran his baton along the bars of the largest cell, startling awake all the very-hungover troublemakers from the night before.

“Wakey-Wakey ya buncha useless alkies. Got a little present for ya…”

Bleary eyes struggled to focus through the bars, but you knew what your role was… You stepped forward tentatively and bobbed a little curtsy. You didn’t have to play up your nervousness in facing this cage full of dirty, smelly men… yet this was the third time Brandon had got you to do this now, so the humiliation had worn off a bit.

“Best lock-up I’ve ever been in!” Exclaimed one of the prisoners, in a bedraggled suit and tie. You were working on the pillar of flesh he had stuck through the bars with your mouth, while your hands occupied two other shafts on either side. “I can’t believe such a pretty, young sweetheart would offer to do her community service like this… It’s kinda sad, really… my daughter’s about her age.”

Despite his words… you felt the man stiffen up a little as he said that, clearly actually more turned on by the thought. You tried to just ignore him, and the growing smirks of a few recognisable previous-offenders at the back. They’d still come forward for their turn, despite the chuckling… you were sure of it.

By the end, your face and chest were quite liberally coated with trails of splattered ejaculate. Officer Brandon liked you to catch most of it all over yourself, rather than let you just swallow it all down. ‘Added to the fun of it’, he argued… whenever you’d finally reached the end of the line of poked-through cocks. For, of course, that was the moment when he finally ordered: “Show em the goods Jo!” and got you to lift up your little mini-skirt. The cop seemed to delight in watching the shocked faces when it was revealed the well-practiced mouth that had just attended to all of them… belonged to a teenage boy. You found the whole thing pretty disturbing and offensive, really… but that was just the way of things around here. If that was what it took to keep your life in the shop safe… then so be it.

The cop would then fuck you over the desk in front of all of them, before letting you back out onto the street to head home. The cum-covered walk of shame this meant for you, being just another source of fun for him. Of course… by now, a good proportion of the people you passed already knew something about who and what you were. Dripping your way between them with one eye half-closed was more just an embarrassing reminder to yourself how far you’d come in the last four months. There seemed little danger that anyone would recognise you as the rich, young private-schooled young man who’d gone missing so long ago. You were Jo the femboy-fucktoy now… Just another piece of weirdo street-trash among all the others that you bumped into on this side of town. People might chuckle and slap your ass as you power-walked by, but they wouldn’t probe any further. The anonymity in plain sight made you feel oddly secure.