Story: Undercover Slut

They’d told Autumn she was too pretty to be a police officer.  Her face was too cute, her tits were too big, her hips were too seductive.  But she completed all the requisite tests and training and was eventually made an officer, and then a detective.

She was supposed to celebrate her promotion to detective with a month-long holiday in the Bahamas.  But after signing off at the station and driving home on the evening of her last work night, she had barely gotten out of her car when four men in ski-masks grabbed her, dragged her into the back of their black van, and drove away.

She screamed as they tied her arms and legs to secure posts in the van interior, and then carefully cut away her police uniform.

“You don’t know me,” said an older man with a greying beard, “but my name is Mr Thorn, and your police force has been quite a problem for my sex trafficking organisation.  It’s getting to the point where an honest businessman can barely abduct a girl, rape her, and sell her into slavery, without the police getting involved.”

The first of the masked men knelt between Autumn’s legs, took out his cock, and began to push it into her pussy.  Autumn screamed.

“Shush, girl,” said Mr Thorn.  “The fact is, I’ve been getting quite tired of having to find and eliminate the undercover cops your organisation keeps sending to find me.  And I’ve recently come into possession of some very exciting hypnogogic technology.  So now I’m going to send some moles of my own back into your organisation, to see how *they* like it.  Starting with you…”

===

Autumn didn’t keep any memory of the many times her pussy, ass and mouth were raped over the next month, or how much cum was deposited in her various holes.  Mr Thorn ensured his employees ceased whipping and beating her tits and cunt with belts and paddles after the first week, so that she would have time to heal before she was sent back to work.  

They forced her to orgasm to degrading, perverted things, and they kept videos of those orgasms – not to blackmail her, for the technology they were using on her would make that redundant – but simply because they believed that there should be a record of such things happening to *every* woman.

And in between the abuse, they put her in The Machine.  That was how they referred to it – always implied capital letters, never any detail.  It was a chair, and she sat in it naked, with electrodes on her skin, and painful clamps on her nipples and pussy lips and clitoris, and a metal probe in her anus, and a vibrator stuffed up her cunt.

They put a helmet on her, and it flashed images in her eyes and played loud sounds in her ears, and at times the vibrator in her cunt would whirr, and at others it would discharge shocks into her tits or her ass or her clitoris and she would scream.

And when it was done, Autumn had been programmed with a set of deep and inevitable triggers that would make her Mr Thorn’s undercover police slut, whether she wanted to be or not…

===

Autumn’s first action upon returning to work was to request a transfer to the Sexual Assault unit, and she was granted it immediately, because the police force was always looking for more women to work that area, for reasons of sensitivity and diversity.

At first, she didn’t notice much that was different about her behaviour.  She was given a lot of work interviewing the victims of sexual assault when they made complaints to the police.  And she conducted these interviews by the book – except she’d always push just a little harder on some of the questions, particularly ones that made the complainants blush.

“What were you wearing?  How was your skirt hemline?  How much boob were you showing?”

“Were you wearing panties?  Were you wearing a bra?”

“Had you masturbated that day?  Were you sexually aroused when it happened?  Have you ever had sexual fantasies about being raped?”

“What did it feel like when he was raping you?  Did you moan?”

“Did you orgasm?”

And then afterwards she would sit with the complainant and tell her that it was very brave that she was coming forward with her accusation, and that she was glad that the girl was willing to testify, given how she would be called a liar and slut in court, and given the trial would likely run for months or years, and given how most rape prosecutions were unsuccessful, and given that if her rapist was acquitted everyone would always think she had lied about being raped.

And just like that, nearly two-thirds of the sexual assault cases she was supposed to investigate just magically went away.

And for the rest, Autumn conducted a very thorough search of the victim’s house, and took photos of the victim’s sex toys, and download copies of the victim’s search history, and interviewed the victim’s past sexual partners about her sexual preferences and sexual performance.

And then she took all of that directly to the man who had been accused of the rape, and she gave everything she had found to him, and then her eyes would glaze over and she would undress, and kneel, and suck the rapist’s cock, and thank him for treating dumb sluts exactly as they deserved.  She would encourage him to cum on her tits, so that afterwards she could put her uniform back on over the top and go back to work with a rapist’s sperm drying on her fuckbags.

She didn’t think about any of this.  She didn’t do it maliciously or cruelly.  In her mind she was doing things “by the book”.  This was how sexual assaults were investigated.  She remembered all of it, and saw nothing to criticise in any of it – except, of course, for sexually servicing the accused, which vanished from her mind as soon as it was done.

Any humiliating or compromising information she found about any woman, anywhere, got sent to a secret email account.  She had no conscious knowledge of doing this, but whenever she obtained a nude photo of a woman, or a woman’s secret porn searches, or the information that a woman was a shamefully closeted lesbian, she would email it as soon as possible to her secret email – and as soon as she did she would feel a burst of intense sexual pleasure, so strong that she would immediately have to find the nearest private place to masturbate, and so enjoyable that she would find herself actively looking for more secrets to send, so she could feel that pleasure again.

From time to time she was called upon to investigate a disappearance.  These missing persons cases were always a pretty young woman, and there was always a suspicion of abduction, which is why the sexual assault unit were called in.  

Whenever Autumn received one of these cases, she would send an email about it to her secret contact.  Often she would receive back video footage of the missing girl in question.  Autumn would present this footage to the investigation with a story that suggested the videos had been shot *before* the girl went missing.  

The videos would show the girl actively fucking multiple men, sucking cocks, and receiving loads of sperm on her face, before having handfuls of cash stuffed up her pussy.  They would end with her saying something like, “I can’t wait to get away from home so I can do this all the time.”  Combined with Autumn’s deceit about their origin, they implied that the girl had deliberately run away to become a prostitute.  

The videos were extensive, and would contain many pornographic scenes.  Autumn would deliberately show them to all the girl’s family members and acquaintances, and leave copies with them “in case the footage prompted any memories”.  

Often, this ended the investigation, with the families content to believe that their perfect little girl had run away to become a whore in the big city.

If it didn’t, then another secret video would surface.  In this one, the girl, weeping and distraught, would make graphic and explicit allegations that her mother or her father – or both – had sexually abused her, and that she had run away to escape that abuse, and was safe where she was but never intended to return home.

The parents always stopped looking after seeing that footage.

At some level, Autumn knew these girls hadn’t run away.  A part of her remembered Mr Thorn, and knew that these girls had been abducted, and raped, and trained to become fucktoys which Mr Thorn had sold as property to rich buyers, after forcing them to record these videos.

Whenever she let that thought reach her conscious mind, she became filled with horror, and felt herself begin to cry.

And then a voice in her head said, “Whenever you’re sad, rub your pussy until it goes away.”

And she would find herself masturbating furiously at the thought of how she enabled the sexual enslavement of innocent girls, until the tears went away.  And when the tears left, the memories did too, and the idea of Mr Thorn and his sex trafficking ring would vanish from her mind again.

===

It did not go unnoticed that Autumn never seemed to make any arrests or bring any of her cases to prosecution.  Her supervising officer brought her into his office to discuss it in harsh terms one October afternoon.

As he grilled her on her service record, Autumn felt herself choke up with the knowledge that she *was* a bad police officer, that despite “following the book” she had arrested no one, that she was a stupid cunt who deserved to be fired.

She began to undress, and even though her hands seemed to be operating without conscious thought, she believed that this was her idea, that she was deliberately acting like a slut to get herself off the hook for her miserable performance.  

She found herself kneeling naked in front of her boss and offering to suck his cock, to fuck him, to do anything he wanted, if only he would let her keep her job, and let her keep investigating her cases in her own special way.

She sucked his cock right then and there, and before the day was over he had called her back to his office a second time so he could fuck her in the ass, which Autumn had never experienced before.  And they agreed to an arrangement whereby Autumn would keep her job, but on Saturday she would visit her boss at his house, and she would let him beat her tits and fuck her, and she would also pleasure her boss’ wife with her tongue, and that he would refer to her at work as “cunt” and “bitch”, in front of other officers, and she would laugh and accept it as if it were their private in-joke.

Autumn paid special attention to which male officers in the sexual assault unit chuckled when they heard her called “cunt” and “bitch”, and she carefully sounded them out with suggestive opinions – that some women maybe deserved to be raped; that she could see why someone had wanted to rape a particular victim; that men couldn’t really be blamed for what they did around a slut with big tits.

The ones who accepted these ideas, she liked.  The ones who didn’t, who rejected her misogynistic test phrases, she internally marked as problems.  And without realising she was doing it, she began to badmouth those officers, and lobby her boss to have them reassigned to other areas of the police force, and in many cases she was successful.

At the same time, she got herself a position handling recruitment to the sexual assault unit.  Relatively few women actively applied to join, so Autumn had to go looking for female police officers who might be suitable.  Autumn specifically targeted the prettiest officers, the ones with the hottest bodies, the ones with the biggest tits.

And instead of inviting them to apply to her unit, she instead sent their details to her email contact.

One by one these women would vanish for two weeks, or three weeks, ostensibly taking leave.  And when they returned they would transfer to sexual assault, and they would seek out Autumn, and they would kiss her on the lips, and they would tell her how excited they were to reduce the number of women who reported sexual assaults to the police.

===

The real transformation happened on one difficult afternoon, in a complainant interview.

The complainant was particularly attractive, with particularly nice tits, but she was also a difficult brat, barely 19, entitled and spoiled, and as best as anyone could tell the alleged rapist was nothing but a boyfriend who she had cockteased until he could stand it no more.

In the middle of an interview, Officer Stamitz, who could always be trusted to laugh at a misogynistic joke, shook his head and said, “Fuck this.”

He got to his feet, walked to the other side of the interview table where the complainant was, and slapped her across the face.  Then he grabbed her top and ripped it off, exposing her lacy white bra.  This, too, he grabbed and tore from her body.

Autumn, who was Stamitz’s partner on this interview, was initially shocked, but, seeing what was about to happen, she did what her subconscious hypnotic control told her was the appropriate thing to do.  She went to the door of the interview room, looked out, and – seeing two male officers and a bimbo-ish female officer standing around – she said, “There’s fun happening in here, want to join in?”

There were no cameras in the interview room.  Autumn had already lobbied to get them removed, in the interests of “the privacy of complainants”.  The girl was no match for the force of several police officers, and soon she had been stripped naked and bent over the interview table, so that the men could take turns raping her cunt and asshole.  

By climbing up on the table, Autumn could force the girl to lick Autumn’s pussy as the men raped her, and when Autumn had orgasmed on her tongue the other female officer took a turn.

When it was done, Stamitz slapped the weeping girl again and said, “Here’s what’s going to happen.  You’re going to drop your complaint.  You’re going to go off birth control.  You’re going to go back to your alleged rapist and encourage him to fuck you until you’re pregnant.  If we don’t see a positive pregnancy test within four months, then we know where you live, and we will come back and impregnate you ourselves, and we’ll make it *hurt*.  Do you understand, bitch?”

The girl nodded, desperately.  And only two months later she sent them a photo of her positive pregnancy test, and her wedding certificate indicating she had married her rapist.

And after that, that was how the unit dealt with sexual assault complaints.  They raped the complainant, and – wherever possible – sent her back to her rapist to give him further pleasure.  Occasionally they even initiated a prosecution against a complainant, charging her with lying to police, with the result of sending her to jail for having the bitchy temerity to complain about rape.  These prosecutions sent an important message to other women.

===

As women stopped reporting their rapes, and the work coming to the sexual assault unit began to decline, Autumn found other ways to keep busy – and they both fell under the category of “outreach”.

The first was in identifying yet more female police officers for Mr Thorn to abduct and brainwash.  They didn’t need to be pretty now – this was simply about creating more support for the police’s new direction in combating sexual assault reports.  Autumn’s programming didn’t let her wonder why Mr Thorn never abducted and brainwashed men – whose support would have been invaluable – but if it had, she would have come to the assumption that whatever process Mr Thorn used only worked on females.

Beyond that, Autumn also worked to find journalists, advocates and politicians for Mr Thorn to abduct.  She used her privileges as a police officer to find their home addresses, their travel plans, to duplicate keys to their houses, to bug their phones and internet.  And one by one they vanished, and came back with a new set of beliefs, about how wonderful it was to create a world in which men could rape women without experiencing any consequences.

The other kind of outreach involved attending schools and colleges and universities and speaking to young women.  The talk was supposed to be about “rape safety”, but instead Autumn would tell women how to “survive a rape” by passively submitting to their rapist and doing their best to please him.  And then she would go on to tell horror stories about women who had fought their rapists, or reported their rape to police – or for that matter to friends and family.  How they weren’t believed, how they were mocked, how their reputations were destroyed.

It was valuable to teach these girls to submit to rape quietly and obediently.  But Autumn would also use these talks to compile lists of girls that she met.  She would pick out girls who were pretty, and investigate them.  Ones with few connections, estranged from their family, would have their details emailed to Mr Thorn, and shortly thereafter they would go missing.  

Pretty girls who were harder to disappear were instead passed to Autumn’s colleagues in the sexual assault unit.  And those girls would find themselves stopped by police on the road in the next few weeks, and led to the back of a police van, and strip searched, and then gang raped by the whole unit, Autumn included.

Autumn would keep an eye on these girls, after they were raped.  Sometimes the shame and trauma of the rape would cause them to cut themselves off from their friends and family – and then they were perfect for Mr Thorn to take.

===

One night, Autumn woke in the middle of the night, in her bed, to find herself naked and surrounded by masked men.  Her legs were spread, and a masked man was pushing his erect cock past her cunt lips and into her pussy.  Another man was winding rope tightly around the base of her tits, in a painful way, while a third was slapping his cock against her cheek, which is what had woken her up.

Mr Thorn was there.

“You’ve done very well, Autumn,” he said.  “But despite how thoroughly you’ve helped me infiltrate the halls of power, not everyone believes in my ideals yet.  And my little spies tell me that a large amount of suspicion is beginning to fall on you personally.”

Mr Thorn laughed.

“It’s time for you to vanish, Autumn.”

Autumn just lay there, trying to spread her legs wider to assist the man who was violating her cunt, and opening her mouth to accept the penis that was probing against it.  That was how good female police officers responded in a situation like this, her brain told her.

“Now, at some level you know that I’ve messed with your mind, Autumn,” said Mr Thorn, “and that I’ve been controlling your thoughts and actions for most of the last year.  And as a result of those hypnotic instructions, you have betrayed your gender, your employer, your society, and thousands of past, present and future rape victims.”

Autumn nodded, beginning to suck on the cock in her mouth.  That sounded right.

“There are two things we can do with you from here, Autumn,” said Mr Thorn.  “I’m about to take you overseas and sell you to a rich man, where you will spend the rest of your life as his sex-pet.  In one scenario, you will go as a hypnotically controlled submissive fuckdoll, just as you are now.”

That sounded nice.  Autumn sucked, and bucked against the cock in her pussy.

“And in the other, you will no longer be hypnotically controlled, and you will remember everything you have done, and you will think you did it of your own free will, and you will hate everything that is happening to you,” said Mr Thorn.

Autumn didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“So we’re going to play a little game,” said Mr Thorn.  “I’m going to say a command word, and it’s going to lift that hypnotic fog from your brain, and you will remember everything.  The old Autumn will be completely free.  And my men will rape you.  And if you manage to cum from rape, in that state, with no hypnotic help, then I will allow you to fall back into your hypnotised state, where you will enjoy your new life.  But if you don’t manage to cum within 30 minutes, then I will let you remember everything forever.  Do you understand, Autumn?”

Autumn nodded.  Whatever Mr Thorn said was fine and good.  She just had to obey.

“Erudite Thrush Symphony,” said Mr Thorn.

And just like that, the real Autumn was back.  Her eyes widened, and she gasped, at the sudden realisation and horror of everything she had done.

She had caused more rapes than even the most industrious serial rapists.  She had raped women herself, and masturbated while watching their rapes.  She had sent victims back to their rapists to get pregnant with rape babies.  She had undermined her police department, undermined her government, selected women for rape and brainwashing…

She could hardly breathe.  AND she was being raped right now – a cock in her mouth and a cock in her pussy.

She screamed, and felt herself begin to choke and cry around her mouthful of dick.

“That’s right,” said Mr Thorn.  “You’re disgusting, aren’t you?  A stupid little rapist who thinks with her cunt?  But you’d better focus on how nice it feels to be raped, Autumn, or else you’ll feel like this forever.”

She couldn’t.  She couldn’t.  He was asking her to cum from rape, specifically so that she could submit to further enslavement.  It was mad!  Perverted!

She wailed and sobbed and shook.

And yet – this was the worst thing she had ever felt.  She wanted to die, from the guilt and shame.  And she knew, deep down, that she was going to go on feeling like this, every day of her life.  She would sob at night from this horrible feeling, even as she spent her days being raped as some foreign billionaire’s fuck-toy slave.

She would not be allowed to die.  Her owner would laugh at her tears and rape her harder.  And it would go on, every day, for the rest of her life.

Or… she could forget.  She could forget these horrible feelings, and just… enjoy being raped.  She remembered enjoying submitting to men.  It had been so easy, and her cunt had been so wet.  She had loved sucking the cocks of rapists.  It had felt good.  She hadn’t wanted to die – she’d wanted to keep sucking, forever.

Autumn realised that she wanted that.  She needed that.  It was the only way to cope with the knowledge of what a slutty misogynistic rapist she had become.

And to get that, she had to cum from rape.

She focused on erotic things she had done for Mr Thorn.  How good it had felt to lick a pretty girl’s pussy while she cried and struggled.  How fun it had been to watch her male colleagues cum on a screaming teen girl’s face and tits.  Now nice the sperm of rapists had tasted when she made them ejaculate into her mouth.

She felt her cunt beginning to throb, and suddenly the cocks raping her face and pussy felt good.  She moaned, and began to suck more enthusiastically.

It was so hard to go through life with *ethics* and *morals*.  It was so much easier to just do what Mr Thorn said.  She liked that all her female colleagues were now brainwashed rape-dolls just like her, who got off on degrading and violating other women.  It would be such a nice world when *all* women were like that…

She sucked more enthusiastically on the cock in her mouth, and bucked her hips…

And suddenly she was cumming, orgasming from rape, with absolutely no hypnotic instructions helping her to do it.

“Good girl,” smiled Mr Thorn, as he watched her shudder.  “Firewing Desolate Tension.”

And with those words, the fog came down again, and the version of Autumn that was ethical, the version that felt guilt, was gone forever.  All that remained was Autumn the rapist slut, and she was so happy that she was cumming, and she was even happier when she felt the first attacker begin to ejaculate into her mouth, and the second firing his sperm up into her womb.

She didn’t need to make any decisions anymore.  Mr Thorn would take her away and find her an owner, and her owner would do nasty things to her, and Autumn would both deserve them, and be aroused by them.  

She only wished, in that moment, that every woman could have the same wonderful, happy experience that she was about to have.

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You can find more tales of slutty cops and sex crime in my e-book Crime and Punishment – Erotic Stories of Law and Authority, available for only $4.99 USD at AllTheseRoadworks.com!  Your purchase shows your appreciation for my writing, and supports me to pay the bills and keep creating hot new stories! (Click here to view in store.)

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