Stripped of Her Badge

(This story is posted on the Literotica website. Do not repost anywhere else without the author's consent. This story is a bit different from my usual fare. To be clear, this is a story where the woman cheats on her man. But a lot of my usual themes are present. There is betrayal, seduction, and heartbreak. It features huge tits and big cocks. And don't expect a happy ending. This is a story about cops and criminals... such stories aren't always pretty. The good characters have shades of darkness, and the bad have shades of appeal. One other thing to point out, as it has come up from time to time, the villain of this story is quite arrogant. Over the years, I've noticed some readers bristle at characters like that, so be warned. If you don't enjoy stories featuring arrogant antagonists, this story won't be for you. So, for those who think they can handle a story like this, go forward.

Additionally, this story is a LONG one, even for me. You have my permission to skip around if you don't want to get too in the weeds. This story is a slow-burn over multiple chapters that ratchets up the tension until it explodes. Not every chapter features sex, but there are heated moments throughout that build up to the main event. If that doesn't sound like your cup of tea, just don't say you weren't warned.)

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Despite the captain's order to move on from him, David was Monica's sole focus. Even as she and her partner were reassigned to other cases, the arrogant young mobster was continually planted in the back of her mind, the sharp detective still trying to come up with ways to get him to talk.

But she had to keep up appearances, going back to square one in her investigation of the mayor's murder, which meant going through the evidence they had. Any hope of finding the true culprit receded slightly, day by day, as her focus narrowed on David, a fact which made Monica feel slightly guilty. But she reminded herself that the incredible injustice that was the mayor's assassination was the root of why she was pursuing David in the first place, so her goal of avenging his death was never truly forgotten.

The evidence they did have was pretty useless. It seemed like there had been a widespread coverup to suppress and bury any evidence that was actually useful in order to protect those responsible. They knew the cause of death was poisoning, but they couldn't get anyone to talk. They couldn't find the proverbial smoking gun. The rest of the evidence seemed ancillary. Yet, Monica went through it again and it didn't provide any new insight.

For example, they'd bagged up that little decorative statue of Michelangelo's David, miniature compared to the real thing. But it wasn't small, about a foot tall. There were similar statues were in every room in the hotel, but its only significance to the case was that Mayor Chapin knocked it over and fell on it as he died. And while Monica found herself staring at it for a while, as something seemed a little off about it, she couldn't justify getting too in the weeds about it. She reviewed case files, interviews, everything she could, and there was nothing new to find.

Experienced cops like Monica and Joel just had a good sense of what path to pursue in any case, and she hadn't been shaken from the fact that David was still the correct angle of approach. Sure, he wasn't the main suspect, his brother was, but every other person associated with the family knew better than to talk. David was young, filled with ambition and bravado. It wasn't exactly rewarded behavior to narc on your allies, let alone your literal family, but David clearly wanted to talk. There were so many reasons for him to spill the beans on how the murder had been planned and executed, and he was probably slick enough to get away with it with little repercussion. Even as she tried to obey Mac's wishes, she couldn't move past that obnoxious asshole. David might provide what they needed to break open the case, and his clear... fascination... with the gorgeous detective might cause him to make a mistake.

Her encounters with David kept replaying in her mind. She was still looking over her shoulder whenever she went out in public. Luckily, she'd never been confronted by David since that day in the gym, but she could sense there were still eyes on her where she went. David, for all his frustrating qualities, had successfully gotten in her head. David's smug words echoed in her ears even when she was trying to shut them out. He kept popping up in her dreams, that smirk of his firmly implanted in her subconscious, leaving her upset when she woke up.

What echoed within her the most was that last interview in the interrogation room. He'd called the detective's bluff, daring them to expose his side-hustle, doing so with a confidence that made it clear he was unafraid of such a thing coming to light. This failure made both detectives look really bad in front of their captain, a professional humiliation unlike anything they'd experienced. But not only did he do that, he then spoke down to her and Joel, trying to get a rise out of them both, but neither took the bait. But he then spoke directly to Monica with that same confidence he'd deployed earlier, and the things he said, and the assuredness he said them with... it left her feeling... unsettled. These words really stuck with her.

Given her history, this was no surprise. Her father had been a cop for decades until accusations of mob ties ended his career. She knew her father better than anyone... he was a good man, unshakeable in his morals even in the face of corruption to such a degree that Monica was inspired to follow in his footsteps. She had little doubt that his unwavering moral character is what made his fellow officers put out a hit on his reputation, enough for him to have to leave the force. The corruption of the police had only grown more rampant in the years since, where it was now rarer to find a clean cop than a dirty one. Monica obviously viewed herself as a clean cop, as did Joel, but they were two of the few. Part of what made her such a positive beacon for justice was because the specter of a cop losing their way had been on her mind since she was a kid watching her father get railroaded. She was always very well aware of what not to do, keeping herself in check.

She always had faith in her dad... he was her hero. But despite her faith in him, she'd heard the rumors and whispers in the years since that maybe her father had not been such an upstanding figure, that perhaps he did actually compromise his integrity through the course of his police work. She told herself this was all bullshit, as her father was such an incredible man. But these rumors began to pile up, forcing her to question her long-held beliefs. She was forced to decipher what it would take to make someone sell out their integrity, their beliefs, their moral code. If her father had actually done such a thing, he certainly didn't start out intending to do so. So then, what would it take to compromise your character? It was a question she had carried with her for years. She didn't have an answer. She'd never done it. But nothing bothered her more than the idea of imagining some point in the future where her belief system had been corrupted somehow. As a thought experiment, she'd played out the idea of letting a crime go unpunished, or compromising her integrity by accepting kickbacks. The concept alone just unsettled her to her core, enough that she couldn't even let herself imagine doing it.

So, to have that frat-boy douchebag sit across from her and pinpoint that exact thing... it fucking unsettled her. He was typically confident, and so far, he'd been annoyingly right about everything he'd said. To have him see a future where she'd become corrupted, where she accepted that the fight against the crime families was too much and too exhausting and finally just gave into the unavoidable corruption, letting herself get swallowed by it, sacrificing her morals and integrity in order to protect those she'd once fought against... it frankly scared the shit out of her. And what scared her even more was that his words kept bouncing around her mind in an irritating fashion. If she was truly as incorruptible and pure-hearted as she believed, those words would descend into nothingness, being so foreign that her system would reject them outright. They would not bounce around her skull as a constant reminder of their threat. More than anything David had done, this got to her. She'd never experienced such a thing in all her years as a cop.

Why was David fucking Delvecchio the one to inspire such consternation?

She was in a bit of a fog in the days following that embarrassment in the interrogation room with David. She did her work in a daze. She examined the evidence dispassionately. She couldn't bear to listen to any inane chatter from her colleagues, or hear Juliet gushing about some new boytoy she'd hooked up with. Monica drowned it all out, her mind still trying to work out the best way to wipe that smirk off David's face and make him beg for their mercy. Make him squeal about the inner workings of the family business... however much he was aware of, anyway.

The lone bright light in this time was Joel. He was in the same spot as Monica, going through the same embarrassment, so they had each other throughout. That being said, the kiss they'd shared left things slightly awkward between them. Monica was embarrassed at doing such a thing... she wasn't one for grand emotional gestures. It made her feel desperate and weak. She kinda wished she hadn't done it for just that reason. However... perhaps a crazy, raw, emotional moment was what was needed for one of them to finally cross that line with the other after years of unspoken feelings between the two. So, she didn't totally regret it.

She certainly noticed the extra pep in Joel's step in the days that followed. Sure, he was also disappointed for the setback in their case, but in their interactions, he seemed to have a zip of positivity. Monica swallowed her smile upon seeing his boyish excitement, even as she felt similar pangs of joy upon seeing him first thing the next morning at work. Outwardly, they discussed other cases, or other options in the Mayor Chapin murder case. Privately, they discussed other ways to try to get to David. And in their moments outside of work, they danced around what would be next between the two of them on a romantic level.

But even as dedicated as Monica was to taking down David and his whole fucking family, she had to come to terms with the fact that she needed to step back and clear her head a bit. Luckily, fate presented a way, as her sister was in town for a few nights and wanted to meet for dinner. While Monica grew up in a family of brothers, she had one older sister named Charlotte. She was the only one of her siblings who really rejected the "family business" of law enforcement, as she chose to go into teaching, working at a high school in Pennsylvania teaching biology. She wasn't able to get back to Port Metro often, as she had a family of her own now.

Monica was typically all work, not getting into her personal life while on the clock. So, mentioning to her coworkers that she had personal plans that would keep her from working one of her usual shifts led to some gentle teasing, as it was so unusual for her. She brushed all this razzing aside for the most part, but this annoying byproduct of sharing details of her life with her coworkers didn't diminish her excitement to see her older sister. She was looking forward to a night free of all the stress this case had been imposing on her.

Her sister liked to savor some of the glitz of the big city, so they were going to a pretty upscale restaurant, not the type of place Monica could just walk into in her normal work clothes. The detective always felt like such a fraud when she dressed up, as it just wasn't her thing. But sometimes, she just had to grit her teeth and do it, and she couldn't deny that she could do it quite well. Even the smallest effort was enough to make her stand out. A simple, tasteful cocktail dress looked spectacular on her. It wasn't lewd in the slightest, but with breasts as massive as hers, showing off a fair amount of her chest was difficult to avoid. She could be really filthy and display a lewd amount of cleavage if she really wanted to, so the fact that she was only teasing just a hint of it was about as reserved as she could manage given her jaw-dropping frame. She had tried on dresses that showed none of her chest, and while Monica wasn't typically one to give a shit about her clothing, she had enough vanity to realize such full-coverage numbers made her look like a nun, or one of those weird religious wives whose bulky outfits did everything they could to avoid causing men titillation. She wasn't a girly girl, but she wasn't completely without taste.

The dress fit her well. It had to be a little snug, as if it was looser, her voluminous breasts would cause it to hang off her and make her look fat. The dress wasn't so tight as to be lewd, but well-fitted enough to highlight her trim waist and fit torso. It didn't do any extra work to showcase her booty, but her first-class ass would not be denied in whatever she wore, the thin black fabric highlighting the firmness and immaculate curvature of her rear end as it was draped over her. The dress went down past her knees, leaving her calves bare. She wasn't typically one for really high heels, but such a garment required them, and she had enough practice doing far more challenging movement in heels that wearing them for a casual dinner was not an issue.

As wearing a dress like this almost required her to wear high heels, you would think it would force her to show a tad more discretion in terms of her underwear choices. While she was typically utilitarian in her clothing in that regard, such occasions would seemingly require her to bust out some slightly nicer things. And while she couldn't pull off wearing such a garment without wearing a slightly nicer, black lacy bra, it felt like wearing anything nicer for her underwear would be a step too far. Too girly-girl. She could wear some matching black panties, something a little skimpier than her usual. Panties that wouldn't show through the dress. But instead, she opted to stick with her standard, booty-short style underwear, even if it left her with slight panty lines visible through the thin dress. She didn't care. Such vain concerns were a thing of the past. She didn't need to worry about them anymore. Whenever she strayed too far away from her normal sense of style, it always felt like she was losing a part of herself. That sounded dramatic, but she just felt more comfortable retaining part of herself even when she had to be somebody else.

Monica applied makeup, checked her hair, put on some perfume, and made sure she looked presentable for a ritzy establishment like the one they'd be dining at. She didn't want to completely stick out. When she was all set, she gave herself one last check in the mirror, and her reflection made her stop in her tracks.

She rarely put this amount of work in, but after everything that had happened recently, the contrast between this and how she normally looked was striking. That day after she ran into David in the gym, and he got in her head about how she dressed, inadvertently making her put in a slight bit more effort... that didn't compare to the striking sight in front of her. She couldn't fully recall dressing quite this girly. A quick rush of pure feminine pride rushed through her, one she hadn't experienced in quite some time, since her days in... Well, anyway, the point was, she couldn't deny that she looked damn good. A small amount of effort really did make a huge difference... Maybe she really should put a little more energy into dressing nice. Then she shook her head as she realized those words weren't her own, and that fact that it was David's voice emerging from her head again soured her mood somewhat as she left, recommitting to her typical style and vowing not to change and give in to that douchebag's influence in any way. Rubbing away some of her makeup, realizing now that she may have gone a little too far out of her comfort zone, she made her way downstairs to catch a cab.

The dinner with her sister was nice, as they caught up over fine dining and expensive wine. It was great to see Charlotte, and all of Monica's recent stresses started to melt away. The restaurant was impressive, and even though she was all dressed up, she felt underdressed compared to the other clientele. Her sister was not exactly a girly-girl either, so at least she had someone who could empathize with that feeling.

But Monica's cop instincts could never be fully turned off. In quiet moments between the two sisters, her eyes would scan the room, a force of habit more than anything. She did this throughout the meal, and only caught herself when she saw a familiar face.

Luckily, it was a friendly face. Her name was Sandra Pomilla, and she was the District Attorney for Port Metro. Monica had dealt with Sandra a lot over the years. She was of like mind to Monica, a hard-nosed lawyer who shared a similar drive to root out crime. They'd run into the same pitfalls over the years in trying to do just that, and they'd spent long hours together commiserating over that fact as another criminal took advantage of the broken justice system and got off scot-free. Both had felt the same sense of increasing hopelessness over the years, but Sandra would always pull them both from that despondence, her positivity and drive for justice glowing even in the darkness. Even as other factors allowed the criminals she was trying to bring down to get away with it. Sandra was a badass in the courtroom, and Monica greatly admired her. And she'd earned a nice night, as she'd had recent success in the courtroom taking down some major figures from some of the other crime families.

Monica had never seen the DA in a social setting, and she looked nice. Sandra had about 10 years on Monica, but she was still totally stunning. A tall, fit, attractive older woman, with creamy smooth caramel skin, short dark hair, crystal blue eyes, and a sexy, commanding voice... she was a babe. She was dressed nicely in a navy dress that showed a little more skin than Monica's did. Sandra's dress ended just above her knees, and she showed more of her chest. Monica had the older woman beat in terms of cup size, but Sandra's Double-Ds were nothing to sneeze at. Similar to Monica, she was committed to her job, leaving her unable to settle down. But it was cool to see her out and at it. Whoever was sitting across from her was a lucky man.

As Monica's dinner with Charlotte went on, she found herself stealing glances at Sandra, her eyes continuing to settle on the DA having a nice dinner. Sandra seemed to be having a good time on her date, smiling, and giving the eyes to the man sitting across from her. Out of pure curiosity, she tried to catch a glimpse of the man she was with, but his back was to her, so that came with great difficulty. All she could tell was that he was tall, well-dressed, and had a nice head of air.

With nothing else catching her attention whenever she scanned the room, her eyes continually returned to them as she dined with her sister. She loved Charlotte, but hearing about the many amazing students she had in her class wasn't exactly the most compelling conversation. But she listened, and engaged, and smiled politely.

But then the man Sandra was seated across from looked to one side ever so slightly, for just the briefest of moments, and the sight caught the detective's attention immediately, pulling her attention from her sibling. The cop radar in her head pinged immediately, something registering as wrong, and despite being sat at a table eating dinner with her sister, she was suddenly back in cop mode, trying to catch a second look. A pit in her stomach was forming. Her instincts sensed it before she could fully grasp what she saw. And as a pretty waitress appeared at Sandra's table, and the man looked up to engage with her, Monica's suspicions were confirmed.