Chapter Six

“I’m not going in there!” Beth declared, her voice firm despite the quiver of dread beneath it. She stood rigid on the cracked sidewalk outside Finnigan’s Bar just off Fremont Street. The bar was popular with law enforcement as an unwinding establishment once they clocked off. Whenever a police officer entered Finnigan’s, they were able to leave their duties at the door and enjoy the camaraderie between their colleagues and supporters.

The green neon sign above the Irish bar flickered, bathing Beth in a soft glow that danced around her glossy pink PVC dress, its plunging neckline barely containing her new, extraordinarily enhanced E-cup breasts. The fabric hugged the undercover cop’s exaggerated curved, the hem riding high to reveal the curve of her ample ass. The degrading ‘Barbie Cumdump’ tattoo above Beth’s shaved pussy remained hidden, and her smooth hairless legs were bare and went on for miles after her ‘choice’ of footwear.

Beth’s 6-inch glittery pink stilettos forced a provocative stance, and her new platinum blonde curls cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall. Her platinum strands framed a face painted with bold eyeliner and pouty, cherry-red lips.

The former brunette’s enhanced sensual demeanor made every nervous shift of her hips a sultry invitation, though her blue eyes blazed with defiance as she stared at the bar’s weathered door. It was late afternoon, and Warren had given Beth a little reprieve all day by keeping her under the ‘Smart Bimbo’ trigger, allowing her to convey her thoughts exactly as she intended them. She grimaced at the sound of laughter and clinking glasses from inside the green-painted walls. This was the bar her father put on the map, where she honed a reputation as Las Vegas’s next big thing, and now it was being set up as the stage for her subsequent humiliation.

Warren Skinner cockily leaned up against a street lamppost, his traditional black leather jacket catching the artificial light from above. Beneath it, he wore a fitted charcoal shirt and matching pants that traced his rugged physique. He was more dressed up than usual, but he figured he’d make the effort for such an appearance. The former detective’s gray eyes sparkled with wicked amusement as he watched his asset, relishing at her unease.

“You’re going in, Bambi,” exclusively using her undercover whore stage name when the two were alone together. A grin appeared on his lips. “This is the ultimate test before we put you back in the field. If your old precinct pals don’t clock you, you’re ready to lure in that murderous bastard and take him down once and for all.”

Beth crossed her arms, unconsciously emphasizing her new huge breasts even further. Warren didn’t miss the opportunity to sneak a peek. “This is beyond ridiculous, Warren,” she snapped with a harsh tone. “My colleagues know every inch of me, my mannerisms, my eyes. You think this blonde hair and these ridiculous implants you forced inside of me will fool them? You’re just setting me up for humiliation. Fuck you!”

The older man stepped away from the lamppost, his boots clicking softly against the pavement as he closed the distance between them, the scent of his strong cologne invading Beth’s nostrils. “Oh, Bambi, what do you think they will discover?” he drawled with condescension. “You’re not Bethany Shaw anymore. You’re a walking fantasy sculpted to perfection. Those cops in there won’t see an ambitious rookie prodigy, the daughter of their hero. They’ll just see a dumb blonde slut begging for attention.” His gray eyes raked leeringly over her, lingering on the swell of her impressive chest, before meeting the new blonde’s defiant gaze.

Beth’s fingers tightened around her arms as she recoiled from Warren’s words. “You’re a sick bastard,” she spat. “We are not here to help catch the killer. You’re getting off on humiliating me. You tried to screw my Dad over and got caught for it, and now you’re taking it out on me!”

Warren’s eyes narrowed as the amusement in his gaze narrowed into something colder. Without a word, he reached into his jacket pocket, producing a glossy cherry-flavored lollipop. Before Beth could react, he pulled off the wrapper and slid it between her plump red lips.

Beth gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she pulled the tasty lollipop from her orifice. “What the hell?” she spat out in shock, his action only infuriating the undercover cop further.

Warren’s smirk returned as he leaned closer, the heat of his body brushing against Beth’s exposed skin. “Enough of your outbursts, Bambi,” he said, the low growl of his voice sending a shiver down the blonde’s spine. “You need to stay in character, and this will help you out.” He tapped the lollipop in her hand, his fingers lingering on hers with deliberate intimacy. “Suck it suggestively whenever you’re not answering a question inside,” he commanded. She hated the suggestion, but her obedience conditioning took hold. “It’ll keep those pretty lips busy and stop you saying anything that’ll blow your cover.”

Beth’s eyes widened as her hand tightened around the lollipop stick. “That’s ridiculous!” she exclaimed with rage. “You can’t just give me orders like that, Warren!” She tried to sound as forceful as possible, but her very image undermined the undercover cop’s statement. Unfortunately for her, he had another trick up his sleeve.

Warren’s smile twisted into something more devious, his patience visibly fraying as he loomed over her. “Your smart mouth is going to ruin everything, Bambi,” he said with a low, menacing purr that made Beth’s stomach twist. “That’s why you have the trigger; it’s for your own good. Your tough cop attitude ends now.” He paused, his gray eyes locking onto hers with a chilling intensity. Beth opened her mouth to repel his comment, but it was too late. “Bambi is a dumb bimbo.”

Beth’s mind reeled as the trigger hit, her articulate defiance melting into a sugary valley-girl lilt that felt almost as violating as what that bastard did to her body. “Like, oh my gosh, you’re, like, such a total creep. This is totally unfair!” she squealed, her bright red lips pouting as she absently slipped the lollipop into her mouth.

Warren folded his own arms with a sadistic satisfaction as he stepped back. “Much better, doll,” he purred, his voice laced with mockery as he gestured toward Finnigan’s dull green door. “Shall we get this over with, Bambi?” He teased as he stepped aside, signaling for the busty undercover cop to walk ahead.

Beth narrowed her eyes, but she didn’t dare respond after the humiliating translator in her mind activated. She scowled at her handler before tottering towards the door. Warren gave his subject a soft tap on the rear as she walked past him, gently guiding her in the direction of her next test.

❖

Beth stepped through the green oak door of Finnigan’s Bar, her 6-inch glittery stilettos clicking against the rustic floorboards, each step a sultry sway encouraged by her conditioning. Warren followed close behind, his black leather jacket brushing her arm. The raucous chatter and clink of glasses appeared to fall silent on the pair’s entry as the patrons turned, their eyes locking on the couple, a collective pause hanging heavy in the air.

Beth absently sucked on the lollipop as she was commanded, nervously glancing around the room; had they clocked her immediately?

A tall older man in a smart, tailored navy blue suit broke the tension, striding forward with a serious expression, his silver hair neatly combed and his strong jaw set firm. Beth’s heart skipped a beat as she recognized Detective Kevin Schultz from her father’s old photos. He had worked with John Shaw and Warren for over a decade before the former’s retirement. The imposing man stopped before them, looking Warren up and down before cracking a grin and pulling his old colleague into a hearty hug. “Warren Skinner, you old dog,” Kevin said, his voice warm with camaraderie. “It’s been a long time. How you been holding up?”

Warren returned the hug, his grin easy but guarded. He looked his old colleague up and down. “Still working hard since getting out of the joint, Kev,” he replied in a smooth and measured manner. “You know me. The force is trying its best to make it up to me without admitting blame. I’m busy keeping the streets in check.”

The current detective’s gaze shifted to Beth, his grin widening as he took a slow, appreciative sweep of her form, his eyes lingering on the inviting, bust-enhancing pink dress that clung to her exaggerated curves and the obviously fake breasts straining against its plunging neckline. “What’s this, Skinner?” he asked with curiosity. “You bringing street girls to a cop bar now? You got some balls.” Kevin laughed at his own comment.

Warren chuckled, his hand moving from Beth’s back as he possessively squeezed her plump ass, the touch sending an unwanted shiver through her. The undercover pimp whispered. “I’m working deep undercover near the airport,” he said, his tone casual but calculated. “This is Bambi, one of my girls. She was curious about Finnigan’s and wanted to see where the real heroes kicked back and unwound. Isn’t that right, doll?”

Beth pulled the lollipop from her cherry-red lips with a soft pop, her conditioning forcing a coy smile as she twirled her brand-new platinum curls around her finger. “Like, totally, handsome,” she chirped, her voice a sugary lilt against her trapped mind. “This place is, like, super cool, and filled with sexy, serious men and stuff.” She slipped the lollipop back into her mouth, sucking it suggestively as ordered, her pouty lips drawing Kevin’s gaze like a magnet. The undercover cop screamed inside for her body to stop acting like a dumb whore, but the conditioning held firm.

Kevin’s eyes lingered, and Warren chuckled at his expression. “She’s really something,” the former detective said before leaning in close and whispering so only Kevin and Beth could hear. “If you ever find yourself in the area, Bambi here gives a generous cop discount. The things she can do with her mouth are just magical.” He grinned, squeezing his humiliated partner’s latex-clad ass cheek again.

The gray-haired detective let out a hearty laugh, his hand clapping Warren’s shoulder as he stepped back. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said amusedly as his eyes continued to roam across Beth’s form with unabashed interest. The man slung an arm around Warren’s shoulders, the other hand grazing along Beth’s shiny-clad waist as he scooted between the two and guided them toward a tall table nestled against a wall occupied by several men. “Come on, you two, let’s get you settled with some real company,” he declared, his tone jovial even as it carried an edge of authority.

The table was crowded with off-duty cops, their boisterous laughter filling the air as they unwound with stories about their recent exploits. A middle-aged redheaded woman stepped across and cleared some empty glasses from the table before adding two full glasses in their place without saying a word. The group quietened down as Kevin approached with the undercover pair.

The table’s occupants turned in unison, their eyes widening at Beth’s provocative silhouette. Officer Kyle Paul, a brunette and slightly overweight uniformed cop, leaned forward to get a good look at the busty blonde bringing color to the bar. Officer Xander Harley, a bald African American man, sat on a tall stool with a calm intensity, suavely enjoying the view.

However, it was the third man at the table who caught Beth’s attention. Officer Mason Mitchell graduated from the academy the same year as Beth. He wasn’t as intelligent or intuitive as the rest of his graduating class, but he was well-spoken and had connections due to his father’s political background. A flood of memories entered Beth’s mind of Mason relentlessly pursuing her and Melanie as the two lead graduates and their vehement rebuffs that he never seemed to take notice of. He should have been kicked out of the academy long before graduation, Beth thought. Fortunately for her, Officer Mitchell was assigned to a separate station, and she didn’t have to interact with him, until now.

Mason’s charming toothy grin spread wide, his dirty blond hair mussed from a long shift. “Well, damn, Sir,” he drawled with reverence, talking to the older former detective with respect. “Where did you find this piece of ass?” He grinned, leering at Beth’s enhanced body with a predatory grin, sending goosebumps down the busty woman’s spine.

Although the officer was talking to Warren, it was clear he was expecting Beth to speak. She pulled the lolly from her lips with a purposeful wet pop before curling a strand of exotic blonde hair with her finger. “Like, thanks for the compliment, sweetie,” she chirped before slipping the lollipop back into her mouth, sucking it slowly, her pouty lips working the candy as her gaze darted nervously around the table.

“Well,” Xander grinned. “What are you doing walking around Vegas with a whore anyway. I mean, she could be a stripper, but with tits like that, she’s definitely a streetwalker.” He gave the blonde a wink as though he had met more than a few prostitutes in his time.

Warren leaned against the table’s edge, his posture more relaxed than Beth had ever known it since they were forced to start working together. He lifted a fresh Guinness before addressing the group. “Like I told Kev, I’m deep in with some messy work near the airport,” he said in a whispered voice. “Bambi’s part of the operation. She’s got a knack for getting people to talk while her mouth is full.” He winks at the blonde smugly.

Mason placed his hand on the table as he took a sip of his own beer. “Come on then, Bambi. Tell us a story. What’s your filthiest encounter?” he urged, his voice dripping with the same sleazy curiosity Beth remembered. “None of us is on duty right now, so you’re safe. What’s the wildest thing you’ve done for a john?”

Beth pulled the lollipop from her lips with another deliberate pop, her mind racing for a response that she could use on the spot, but he brain went blank all of a sudden. She opened her mouth, a hesitant “Like, umm,” escaping before a woman’s hoarse voice cut her off.

“Are you all serious?” Melanie Sachs snapped, approaching the group of men chatting to Beth. The undercover cop felt her face flush as her best friend and trusted confidante stormed over towards her. They had supported each other in a male-dominated culture, but the look her friend gave her showed anything but warmth. “You buffoons are pathetic. We’re supposed to be keeping trash like this off the streets, and you’re all just encouraging her!” Mel was outraged at the display.

The transformed cop’s heart clenched as Melanie’s venomous words sliced through her like a blade. Her best friend’s unrecognizing, judgmental glare was a stark reminder of just how much Warren had changed her, and how far her undercover role was from her real life.

As the tension reached its apex, Kevin stepped between Beth and the off-duty female cop. “Calm down, rookie,” he said condescendingly to the young officer. “We’re just having a bit of fun; no harm done. How about you prance over to your little buddies and let us be?” The group chuckled, infuriating Mel even further.

The officer’s eyes flashed with anger, her gaze locking onto Beth with a vindictive scorn. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” she spat. “Get yourself a real job and have a little respect for yourself.” Beth shuddered as her friend spoke to her with such animosity before heading back toward the two older women across the bar, leaving Beth alone with the off-duty men.

Warren straightened, his hand sliding back along Beth’s plump rear, a subtle signal to the table. “Time to wrap this up, fellas,” he said as he raised a half-empty Guinness in a farewell toast. “It was good catching up, but Beth’s got work tonight.” He winked at the group before turning to the transformed blonde. “Say goodbye to the nice officers, doll.”

Beth pulled the lollipop from her lips, her conditioning forcing a playful, saccharine smile despite the ache in her chest. “Like, bye-bye, boys,” she chirped, her platinum waves bouncing as she gave a playful wave.

Kevin’s grin widened as he took Beth’s hand and gently kissed it. “Farewell,” he said. “I might just take you up on that discount one day, Bambi,” he said, his voice laced with a sleazy promise.

Warren’s hand tightened around the undercover cop’s side, and he guided her away from the table, her tall stilettos echoing around the room as they moved toward the bar’s rickety door. Beth felt Melanie’s eyes drilling into her from across the room, a burning, judgmental stare that followed her every step, isolating the young blonde from her true life even further.

The former detective’s hand lingered on Beth’s waist as the pair stepped through the bar’s threshold, the mild evening Vegas airbrushing the blonde’s exposed skin. Warren leaned close, his breath warm against Beth’s ear, his voice a low, smug whisper. “That was a resounding success, Bambi,” he murmured with satisfaction. “No one had a clue who you were, not even that dumb friend of yours.” He patted the blonde on the backside. “I think you’re ready to go back out into the field and show off the new you.” Beth’s heart sank. She knew her new enforced modifications were closer to The Toymaker’s ideal, and she was placing herself directly in his sights. She also knew that she somehow couldn’t say her real name or declare her actual job. She had to rely on Warren for her safety, and that was what terrified her the most.

Warren tightened his grip on the blonde’s side before hailing a taxi, escorting her inside the vehicle, and leading her back to her fake life as a Vegas streetwalker.

❖

Beth knelt on the grotty carpet of the backseat floor in a john’s sedan, her full, glossy lips working the rigid length of his cock with a practiced rhythm that had become second nature. One week had passed since the blonde’s humiliating visit to Finnigan’s, and the clients couldn’t get enough of her transformed body; her platinum blonde curls and buoyant E-cup breasts made her a new star on the Vegas streets.

Beth tried to hold her breath from the lingering smell of the car’s cigarette stench, but a cock halfway down her throat forced her to keep her nose open. Her tight leather crop top had been lowered around her waist to reveal her enormous fake breasts, and the matching micro skirt rode up her rear, exposing her ass and pussy to anyone with a view. Her blonde-haired head bounced up and down on the cock as she serviced the man known only to her as ‘Steve.’

Steve groaned, his rough fingers tightening in Beth’s platinum curls, guiding her head with forceful thrusts. “Damn, Bambi, you’re a Grade-A slut,” he rasped as he bucked against her inviting mouth. The act had become so routine to Beth over the past week that her head moved instinctively. Her gag reflex had been dulled by countless cocks, and Beth could usually have a man finishing inside her mouth within minutes; Steve was no exception. As the man’s body tensed, his release surged into the blonde’s waiting mouth, a hot, bitter flood that she swallowed without hesitation.

Beth pulled back, her lips parting from Steve’s softening cock with a faint wet sound, her candy-pink lipstick smudged across her pouty mouth. She wiped her chin with a trembling hand, her conditioning forcing her to maintain the act despite the revulsion churning in her gut. Beth may have looked like an eager whore on the outside, but every act she was compelled to act out repulsed her. She tugged her leather crop top back over her ridiculously large chest and lowered her tiny skirt into a small modicum of decency.

Beth climbed into the front passenger seat, her tall black platform heels scraping the car’s upholstery, while Steve zipped his pants and settled back into the driver’s seat. The engine growled to life, and he steered the vehicle through the quiet industrial area he had driven her to. As the man steered, Beth instinctively pulled out a mirror and carefully removed her lipstick before reapplying it generously until her plump lips looked perfectly kissable again.

Steve glanced at the scantily-clad Beth as he navigated the streets. “You’re way better than when I first paid for you, Bambi,” he said, a grin spreading across his stubbled face. “That mouth of yours has gotten real talented over the last week. You should be proud.” Beth’s stomach twisted as she instinctively flashed him a smile.

The undercover cop’s conditioning compelled a flirtatious lilt of her head, her platinum strands swaying as she tucked the mirror back into her purse. “Like, thanks, Stevie,” she chirped in her dumb, valley-girl dialect she had been forced to permanently endure over the last seven days.

Steve pulled up to the corner where he’d picked the blonde up from. He handed Beth $50 in cash, slipping an extra $30 into her hand with a lingering touch, his fingers grazing her palm. “Keep that mouth working, Bambi,” he winked before the undercover blonde stepped out, her platforms clicking against the uneven ground.

Beth adjusted her skirt and tottered towards Lola, who was absently standing beside a dented lamppost, her fiery red hair spilling over a teal halter dress that hugged her curves. Lola’s eyes widened as Beth approached, a double-take betraying her shock at the blonde’s provocative silhouette.

“I’m still getting used to that new look, Bella,” she said, using Beth’s undercover non-stage name. Her voice was laced with concern. “I can’t believe you went for the blonde hair and those huge tits, especially after what happened to Sweetlips.”

Beth paused, her fingers brushing the edge of her leather skirt nervously. Lola had been the closest thing to a friend the undercover cop could claim, and disappointing or worrying the redhead was not on her bucket list. “Umm, like, it’s totally not my fault, Lola,” she chirped in her ditsy dialect. “It was, like, my Daddy’s choice, y’know. Like, what Daddy wants, Daddy gets.” She twirled a platinum curl, her conditioned sensual demeanor making the gesture playfully seductive, though Beth’s heart raced at the memory of Sweetlips’ fate.

Lola sighed and glanced at the ground as if a memory had triggered in her mind, too. “I know what it’s like to have a demanding Daddy, Bella,” she said softly. “But he’s putting you in danger. You gotta be extra careful out here now, girl.” She looked Beth directly in the eyes. “Any john who looks too dangerous, you just gotta say no and walk away. It’s not worth the risk for fifty bucks.”

A sharp car horn pierced the night silence, and Beth glanced over, spotting a sleek silver coupe idling nearby with its driver clearly vying for her attention. The blonde sighed in exhaustion; this was potentially her seventh client this evening. She raised a hand and waved playfully, softly biting her plump pink lower lip in the man’s direction.

Lola’s gaze followed the vehicle, her expression tightening with worry. “You’ve been real popular lately, Bella,” she said. Usually, a working girl making that kind of comment would have come from jealousy, but Beth felt the concern in the redhead’s voice.

The blonde offered a weary nod, and her platform heels began clacking on the pavement as she strutted toward the coupe, her conditioned sensual demeanor carrying her forward with a provocative sway. “Hi, stud,” she flirted with her new customer, the cycle of endless humiliation continuing.

❖

Beth sprawled across the uncomfortable mattress in her motel room at the Desert Inn, her body heavy with exhaustion from the previous night’s busy work. The early morning sun had begun to seep through the worn curtains, casting a faint warmth over the cluttered space. Beth’s discarded outfits were left strewn over the floor, and her makeup counter was a mess. She wore a semi-sheer red lingerie set, the lace barely containing her new breasts, paired with a silky robe that slipped off one shoulder, revealing the curve of her enhanced figure. Since her upgrades, Warren had only bought the undercover cop ‘sexy’ underwear, and none of her old undergarments fit her anymore.

The door’s lock clicked, and Warren Skinner strode in uninvited, prompting Beth to urgently cover herself up more. The older man was glad in an ill-fitting, tight gray T-shirt and black jeans that accentuated his rugged frame. A spare key dangled from his finger as he leaned up against the door frame, admiring the view on the bed.

Warren’s eyes glinted with amusement as he pushed off the door frame and slipped the key back into his pocket. “You’re looking a little rough, Bambi,” he mocked her as he sauntered closer.

Beth groaned as her obedience conditioning compelled her to slide off the bed and walk towards her dressing table. She picked up last night’s haul of $860 in crumpled notes and handed them to him with an irritated sigh before moving back to her bed.

Warren’s cheeky smile widened as he thumbed through the bills, counting the undercover cop’s previous night’s takings. “This is your best haul yet, Bambi,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he tucked the cash into his jeans. A flicker of private amusement crossed his mind. Making a profit out of this undercover endeavor had never been the goal of this mission, but the money was a delicious bonus, and Beth was required to hand every single penny she earned to him.

Beth wordlessly slumped on the mattress, her exhaustion etched into the lines of her face despite the lingering makeup still clinging to her skin. Warren’s eyes narrowed as his tone shifted to a calculated calm. “Bambi is a smart bimbo,” he said, triggering her normal speech, the words washing over the blonde like a fleeting release from her mental prison.

“What progress have you made on the Toymaker?” Warren asked expectedly, crossing his arms. His voice was all business, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his enjoyment of her predicament. “You’ve been out there a week looking like that. Surely you have found something?”

Beth sat up, her purple robe slipping further to reveal the red lace clinging to her curves, her blue eyes narrowing as she stared up at her handler. “I’ve been tracking repeat customers as you instructed,” she said steadily, relieved to be able to speak in her regular tone finally. “But it’s overwhelming, Warren. I now have over a dozen repeat customers, and the list continues to grow. I can’t possibly monitor all of them effectively; it’s too much.”

Warren’s smirk widened, his gaze raking over the blonde’s barely covered form. “No surprise there,” he commented with condescension. “You’re the only whore out there looking like a blonde blow-up sex doll right now. Every john is lining up to spend five minutes with you.”

Beth’s eyes narrowed as she tried to ignore his crude taunt. “It’s a total waste of time. I’ve been looking out for red Porsches,” she continued, her tone sharp with exasperation. “But I haven’t seen a single one since Sweetlips was killed. Not one. Everything I’ve had to endure this week, and it’s gotten me nowhere!”

Warren nodded blankly as if he were lost in thought. His expression hardened as he stepped closer to the bed. “You’re right, I think we’re stalling,” he said with a low and deliberate voice. “That Porsche could have been a rental to throw us off. We need to escalate this if we’re going to draw the Toymaker out of hiding. You’re going to need to make some sacrifices for the greater good.”

The blonde’s heart lurched as her voice rose with rising alarm. “Escalate?” she snapped, her eyes blazing with fury. “Look at me! You’ve turned me into a walking sex doll, Warren. The damn hair, these stupid breasts, this degrading tattoo,” she said, pointing to her ‘Barbie Cumdump’ tattoo just above her bald pussy. “I think I’ve fucking sacrificed enough!” Her face started to turn a shade of red as she exploded at the older man.

Warren’s smirk faded, and his eyes narrowed into a cold, steely glare as he loomed over the bed. “Word on the street is you’re just a superficial prude who’ll only give out blowjobs,” he said with disdain. “That’s probably why the Toymaker’s staying away. You’re not tempting enough, Bambi. I think it’s time you start using that pussy and ass of yours to draw him out.”

Beth’s eyes widened, and she stood up in anger, her robe completely falling open to show off her enhanced body. “I’m not doing that!” she barked with tightened fists. “I’ve sacrificed enough for this damn job already, Warren. Like hell am I crossing that line. No way!”

Warren stared at the defiant blonde and narrowed his eyes even further. “You’re too damn destructive, Bambi,” he growled with a low, commanding snarl. “You’ll use that cute pussy and tight ass whenever a client requests them, no exceptions.” Whereas his previous comment was a suggestion, there was no doubt that he was issuing a command this time. Beth felt a shudder run down her spine as the obedience conditioning kicked in. For his own amusement, he leaned in and began to smile with sadistic glee. “And whenever you’re pretty mouth is full of cock, you’ll rub your needy pussy the whole time, keeping yourself turned on and in the right frame of mind,” he added, his words dripping with mockery as the additional command took hold.

The undercover cop’s fists clenched tighter, her voice quivering with desperate defiance despite the inescapable pull of her conditioning. “I won’t do it, Warren,” she insisted, her words fierce but hollow, her body already betraying her as the commands took root in her mind.

Warren stepped closer, the gap between the two less than an inch. “And it’s about time you stopped using that name. Anyone could be listening, and we wouldn’t want you to slip up now, would we?” His words were incredibly patronizing as he cupped the despairing blonde’s chin and forced her to look into his gray eyes. “You will always call me Daddy from now on, no exceptions. No matter what you try to call me, it will always come out as ‘Daddy.’” A soft grin reappeared on the old former detective’s face.

Beth gasped sharply, her mind racing at his condescending remarks. “You’re a son of a bitch, Daddy,” she spat, her hand immediately covering her plump lips as the word ‘Daddy’ slipped out naturally against her will.

Warren chuckled, his amusement palpable as he stepped back. “This was fun, but I’m bored of smart Bambi now,” he mocked her nonchalantly. “Bambi is a dumb bimbo.” The trigger hit, and Beth knew that her articulate speech was prepped to once again flow through the dumb bimbo filter and echo from her lips in a vapid valley-girl dialect. She parted her lips to speak but decided against it.

The undercover pimp’s grin twisted into a predatory smirk, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight at the constant humiliation of his nemesis’s daughter. He turned toward the old motel door. “I’ll swing by in a couple of days to catch up, Bambi,” he said with a casual voice that was laced with menace. “I’ll be watching you from afar, so don’t disappoint me.”

Beth’s heart sank as she collapsed back on the bed, watching in despair as the older man left her alone in her room. He had just upped the stakes of her humiliation, and there was nothing she could do about it. She knew she had to find this Toymaker fast before her handler’s control gripped even tighter.

❖

Beth’s wild screams echoed through the small motel room at the Desert Inn, her platinum blonde curls bouncing effortlessly as she rode Tony’s hard cock, her lubed-up ass stretched tight around his rigid length. The john, a regular who’d visited four times that week since discovering Beth’s new willingness for anal, gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her bare curves. The undercover cop’s E-cup breasts sat high on her chest and faintly bounced freely as she screamed in sounds of faux pleasure.

The thin walls rattled with each thrust, and a loud bang from the adjacent room signaled a neighbor’s protest. Still, Beth and her client ignored the interruption, her valley-girl dialect spilling out between lewd moans. “Like, oh my god, Tony! Harder, like faster, you’re totally so big!” she squealed in practiced delight, her ditsy comments disguising the woman’s internal disgust.

Tony’s groans deepened, his thrusts growing frantic as he slammed into Beth’s plump ass, the slick heat driving him toward climax. “You’re fucking too good, Bambi,” he rasped, his hands sliding up to knead her impressive plastic chest. He eventually groaned and released himself deep inside of her, pinning the blonde down on top of him as he came inside her ass.

As the pounding ceased, Beth’s screams softened, her obedience conditioning forcing a performative moan as she slowed her body aching from the relentless session. She finally dismounted the middle-aged man and reached for her tight yellow Lycra dress, the fabric clinging to her sweat-dampened skin as she pulled it over her curves.

Tony zipped his pants, his breath still ragged as he recovered from the experience. He fumbled for his wallet and pulled out five crisp $20 bills before handing them to her with a satisfied grin. “You’re worth every penny, babe,” he said condescendingly.

Beth counted the cash, her manicured nails pausing as she glanced at him. “Like, you totally gave me a fifty-dollar tip last time, Tony,” she chirped. Internally, she reeled at her comment; why did she care if he tipped her or not?

The john chuckled, adjusting his shirt as he leaned against her dresser. “You’re amazing, Bambi, but you’ve drained me dry this week,” he said apologetically. “I can’t afford the tip this time, sorry.” The blonde forced a smile, her conditioning keeping her compliant and in character, and she ushered him out, closing the old door behind him.

Beth slipped on her 5-inch platform heels, and freshened up with her makeup and a healthy dose of cheap perfume, and left the apartment, heading back to her usual street corner.

Beth’s platforms clicked unevenly on the sidewalk, her gait awkward from the relentless poundings she’d endured that week, each step a reminder of her degrading servitude. The street corner was unusually quiet, and Beth found herself alone in her regular patch. She smoothed down her Lycra dress and observed the area.

The undercover cop’s heart quickened as she spotted a figure approaching. At first, she thought it was a potential client, but as she spotted the flashy white suit and gold chains, she knew it was a lowlife pimp surveying the scene. Beth felt goosebumps trace along her skin as the man slowly strutted in her direction.

The blonde gasped as she recognized Rico from the Pink Velvet Lounge, his gold chain reflecting off the bright street lights. His smile was sharp, almost predatory, as he closed the distance, the clink of his jewelry echoing in Beth’s ears as he walked over to her.

“You’re looking finer than ever, Bambi,” Rico said smoothly, his eyes raking over her yellow dress and lingering on her exaggerated breasts before moving to the woman’s inviting mouth. “Word on the street is you’re making big waves, but I’m real disappointed you never called me, especially since you’re working my turf anyway. Did you know you’re taking clients away from my girls, and income away from my pocket, big tits?”

Beth’s throat tightened, her enhanced sensual demeanor betraying her with a nervous sway of her hips as she tried to sidestep the man. She was a cop, and she knew exactly how dangerous situations like this were for working girls. “Like, I’m just, like, doing my job, Rico,” she chirped, her voice quivering with unease.

Rico paused, his sleazy smile transforming into a stern scowl as his hand snapped forward to seize the undercover cop’s throat, his fingers clamping tight, gently cutting off her air. “Doing your job, huh?” he asked furiously. “Well, if you won’t join me willingly, I’ll just have to make you mine the old-fashioned way, Barbie,” he growled, his breath hot and acrid against her choking face.

Beth’s vision started to blur as the pimp’s grip tightened, her manicured nails clawing futilely at his wrist. Her gasps grew shallow, and panic surged through the blonde’s chest as she tried to escape, but the man’s strength was too severe.

Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed on the street, and Rico’s grip immediately loosened. The pimp’s head snapped to the side as a fist slammed into his jaw, sending him sprawling onto the gritty asphalt with a grunt. Beth stumbled back, coughing violently as she gulped the air. Her eyes darted to Warren as he shook his fist in pain after the heavy blow.

Beth’s handler loomed over Rico, his dark jacket blending in with the night’s shadows, his gray eyes blazing with a protective fury that sent a child through the blonde’s trembling frame. Rico tried to rise, but Warren’s fist crashed into his face again, the second blow flattening him against the pavement as blood gushed from the pimp’s nose. “Touch my property again, and I’ll kill you,” the older man snarled. Beth shuddered at the word ‘property,’ sending a deep, repulsive level of offense to her very soul. Still, she decided that this moment wasn’t the best time to address it.

Warren seized his subject’s arm, pulling Beth away from Rico’s barely conscious form, her platform heels scraping on the sidewalk with each hurried step. His voice was low and commanding, without a hint of the jovial enjoyment of her predicament in his body. “Your night is done. Time to get you home, Bambi,” he said, his tone laced with a possessive edge that made the cop’s skin crawl, his hand guiding her to the passenger seat of his car with a firmness that brooked no resistance.

Beth silently sat in the car, her manicured hand absently caressing her neck. Warren sat in the driver’s seat and flicked on the engine before driving away. This job was getting more and more dangerous, and it wasn’t just the Toymaker that Beth had to look out for anymore.

End of Chapter Six