The fuzz

You stagger naked to the door. Who could it be? “Carly…?” You open the door and see a man. Oh yes! Then you blink. He’s holding up a badge. A police badge. He’s in plain clothes but clearly he’s a cop. “Uh… hello officer…?”

“Officer Rogers…” he says as he looks you up and down. “So then. Illegal use of black market X-Change… that’s illegal.”

Your eyes widen with fear and a tinge of excitement. You know you should be scared, but the sight of the authoritative man in sends waves of submission through your new, bimbo body. The way he looks at you, so stern and powerful, makes you want to drop to your knees and worship his cock. Your cheeks flush and your pussy contracts with desire. You know you're in trouble, but all you can think about is how good it would feel to have him take you, claim you, use you. “Do you mind if I come in?” He asks as you stand there naked.

You nod eagerly with a high-pitched girlish giggle. You stumble aside, your oversized tits bouncing as you let him into your home. They’re so heavy and fleshy. Huge. You blush at being seen like this by a man.

Officer Roger’s steps in, his eyes never leaving your body. You can feel his gaze on your ass, and you arch your back to give him a better view. He closes the door and turns to face you, his expression unreadable. “What's your name, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice gruff and commanding.

“Um, I’m... I’m...” You struggle to remember. Not Bill. Not anymore. You had a name picked out and ready. But the pill has made you forget everything but your need to serve. No. Wait. “I’m... Becky. Yes, Becky!” You reply with a whimper.

“And what can you tell me about your supplier Luke?” He asks.

“He’s got big… you know… muscles. He’s kinda… like really hunky. His accent … um he’s not from… around here,” you stumble over your words, trying to form a coherent sentence. Your mind is a whirlwind of pleasure and need, making it difficult to focus on anything beyond your new body's desires. “L-Luke... he's... he's the one who... who sold me the pill...” You manage to get out, your voice a breathy whisper. “My Bimbo pill!!! I have big boobies!!!” You cup them happily. “Did you wanna play with ‘em? I wantchya too… please?”

Officer Rogers' gaze intensifies, his eyes traveling over your new curves with a predatory look. You can feel yourself growing wetter with every second that passes, **** for his touch. He takes a step closer, and you instinctively lean into him, your body begging for his dominance. “Is that right, Becky?” He says, his tone a blend of amusement and authority. “Do you know what a CI is?” He asks.

Your eyes glaze over with lust as you try to focus on his question. You know what he's getting at, but the only thing you can think about is how much you want to suck his cock. “A... a CI?” You repeat, your voice a sultry murmur.

He nods, a smirk playing on his lips. “A confidential informant. Someone who helps the police catch the bad guys.” He says, his gaze lingering on your body. “Would you be interested in helping me out, Becky? Will you be my CI?”

“Like under covers… in my bed?” You say hopefully. “Gosh! Would I? If you can help me... I mean, if it means getting your cock... yeah, sure, I'll be your CI, officer,” you reply, your voice dripping with need. You're trapped in a body that's all curves and desperation, and the idea of using it to your advantage is intoxicating.