Penelope Bishop gripped the steering wheel so hard that her hands were beginning to cramp. She stared intently at the tunnel of light made by the headlights; the road was sealed but unmarked except for the reflectors nailed to the white posts spaced sporadically along the side of the road. The night was pitch-black and the road was dangerous; besides the soft shoulders and the many potholes, wildlife was often attracted to the bright headlights of approaching vehicles.

Despite the air conditioning the car was sultry; sweat ran down her back and her thighs were sticky with perspiration, she wished she had foregone her pantyhose but they were part of the dress code.

The man sitting in the seat behind her pointed a pistol at the back of her head. It was a Glock 27 .40 calibre subcompact with a ten round magazine and with an overall length of 6.5 inches and width of 1.26 inches it was the perfect weapon for a woman to carry concealed.

Penelope knew everything about the pistol because it was hers.

The man in the front passenger seat held a Berretta 92FS 9mm which he waived around animatedly as he spoke. Penelope hoped the safety was on because the man was likely to accidentally discharge the weapon if it wasn’t. He did all the talking whilst the man in back remained stoically silent.

“You see, as a lifelong member of the criminal fraternity I understand that the police department has to abide by those bullshit Equal Opportunity laws. Hence they have to let women run around pretending to be police; they wear the blue pants and shirts, the hats, and boots. They have all that heavy shit hanging off their duty belts weighing them down and they just look stupid. Cute but stupid; especially when they run,” the man espoused.

“So the police are now equal opportunity employers; they even had that fat ugly cunt running the show as Police Commissioner in Boston for fuck sake.”

“So, as silly and as ineffectual as they are, I can see the attraction for women wanting to become cops. But what I don’t get is why some guy changes his sex from a man to a woman and then joins the police department. It makes no sense to me. Even with the stupid fucking Gender Equality Act. If ya wanna be a cop be a man; why pretend to be a stupid woman cop for fuck sake?” the man was half turned in his seat addressing both Penelope and the man sitting behind her.

“Is she a detective or a defective?” he tapped the muzzle of the pistol on the silver shield clipped to the waistband of her skirt and sniggered at his own joke.

He was obviously hoping to get a rise out of her but Penelope gritted her teeth and said nothing. She had met plenty of men who displayed both transphobia and misogynism throughout her life and she was almost immune to such vitriol.

“She’s got great tits though,” Penelope pushed away the pistol that the man pushed inside her blouse and pressed to her breasts to emphasise his point.

“And legs to die for,” she did the same when the man hooked the foresight of his pistol under the hem of her skirt and dragged it up her thighs.

“But has she got a package in her panties or is she a cut-and-tuck? Have you got a designer-vagina sweetie?” the man pushed the muzzle of his pistol into her groin and she angrily wrenched it away.

“That weapon is going to discharge if you’re not careful,” Penelope hissed through gritted teeth.

“Fuck me! It talks,” the man chuckled

“Keep your hands on the wheel,” the man behind Penelope tapped her on the crown of her head with the barrel of his pistol.

“Can we fuck her before we kill her?” the man in the front passenger seat asked.

“From what I know about you Bobby, it’d make no difference if she was warm or cold,” the other man replied dryly.

“Once the boss had finished with her we can do whatever we like with her. One thing’s for sure; she ain’t going home,” the man said cold-bloodedly.

“I’ve seen these tranny chicks in pornos; chicks-with-dicks they call them. Hot as fuck except for they have a cock. Not really my thing but I suppose it makes no difference when you’re fucking her up the ass,” Bobby espoused.

“I wonder if she’ll get a hardon when I fuck her?” he pondered inanely.

Penelope had developed a trick that she used to escape such prejudiced virulence when it was directed her way. She thought about something else; she dredged up past memories.

She thought back to how this had all begun.

When the Gender Equality Act was passed by the Federal Government in the early 2020s as a backlash against the Trump administration’s draconian laws stripping transgender people and other minorities of official recognition there was much celebration amongst the LGBTI community and most of the general population.

It forbade discriminating against anyone because of their sexuality and gender identity. The same people who had protested against same sex marriage and refused to conduct wedding ceremonies or supply cakes and flowers, the Church of course, and the unenlightened, were bitterly opposed to the Gender Equality Act. When the Supreme Court ruled against several states that wanted to claim an exemption to the Act or to legislate loopholes, the Federal Government tied the laws up in a bow. The recently elected Democrat party President signed an Affirmative Action Executive Order demanding that government bodies ‘take affirmative action to ensure applicants are employed, and that employees are treated without regard to their race, creed, color, national origin, their sexuality or their gender identity’.

Penelope Bishop always knew that the she was different and when she was a boy of ten years a psychiatrist diagnosed her with gender dysphoria. The boy’s father, a native Texan and a police officer in the Balwyn Police Department, said that no son his was going to be raised a ‘homo sissy fag’ and walked away from his marriage of thirteen years when the boy’s mother supported their son’s desire to live as a girl.

Rosemary Bishop took her son to California where people were less transphobic and nobody knew them, she got a good job with her nursing degree, rented a nice apartment and enrolled Penelope Bishop in school.

Penelope loved presenting herself as a girl and was very much a ‘girly-girl’ who seldom wore pants or boys clothing or participated in male dominated activities. She was no fairy though, and excelled at gymnastics and field hockey; she didn’t mind roughhousing now and then but she was attracted to the more feminine activities. She did not display disgust at her own genitalia as most children with gender dysphoria did but she learned very early on how to skilfully ‘tuck and tape’ and soon became adept at doing so and when supplemented by wearing a gaff she presented a lovely flat pubis. At night or when she was sure there wouldn’t be others around she freed her genitalia to prevent any complications.

Penelope’s psychiatrist assured Rosemary that Penelope was like many other gender dysphoric people; she did not want to fully transition and was happy to live as a transgendered woman rather than have sex reassignment surgery. When Penelope was fifteen and the other girls in her class were developing breasts, she did however desperately want breast augmentation and Rosemary was happy to approve the procedure knowing that it was reversible. She also allowed Penelope to get a tracheal shave and to have surgery on her vocal chords to keep her voice feminine because it had started to break.

At school Penelope was readily accepted as a transgendered girl and made no attempt to hide the fact; there were quite a few male to female and a few female to male transgendered kids at the school. They did have to undergo regular counselling however and were closely watched by the faculty to ensure they weren’t bullied or discriminated against.

When Penelope went to college things became more complicated. There were always going to be some people who didn’t understand her or were just downright prejudiced but by now she had learned to deal with people like that; it was nearly 2030 and if they hadn’t lost their prejudice by now they never would.

Penelope had not developed the identity development problems that are common among some transgendered people, but one of her biggest issues was her burgeoning libido. Advances in hormone therapy using supplemental pharmaceuticals that assisted with the feminisation process but did not have the adverse effect of suppressing the sex drive were now being commonly used and Penelope was frustrated.

Rosemary had had ‘that talk’ with Penelope but it was difficult because Penelope was neither female nor male. Penelope obtained most of her sex education on the Internet from TG support websites but she had to admit that she learned mostly from transsexual porn sites. Penelope had plenty of male, female, and transgendered friends and representatives from all of these genders had shown an interest in her sexually; she was mostly attracted to boys but found certain women and transgenders sexually attractive too. She discussed her dilemma with her psychiatrist who advised her to take her time and not rush into having sex.

Thus it was that Penelope believed she was the only student at the University of California who was still technically a virgin at twenty years old. She thought ‘technically a virgin’ because she had given and received plenty of blowjobs and was quite adept at fellatio, but she had not yet been penetrated and longed to experience the ultimate in sexual gratification. To put it bluntly she wanted to be fucked.

She was close to completing her law degree when things got heated at home. Rosemary was putting pressure on Penelope to fully transition and not to live in limbo as a transgender. To Rosemary’s thinking there were only two genders, she was sympathetic to Penelope wanting to live as a woman, but not as a transwoman. She thought that by now Penelope would want to either fully transition or revert back to being a CIS male.

“Honey, you would be so much happier as a woman. You really are already are a woman except for one thing,” Rosemary bought the issue up again over dinner.

“I’m happy as I am mom; why do you keep hounding me?” Penelope sighed.

“I’ll be honest honey; because then I would have a daughter. I mean I still think of you as my daughter but you aren't really are you?” Rosemary resorted to her usual defence.

“You want me to be a ‘real woman’ mom? What you are saying is that you want me to cut off my dick!” Penelope was becoming angry.

“Don’t talk like that in my house! You know what I mean. I want you to complete your sex reassignment surgery and identify as a woman,” Rosemary tried to temper her tone.

“But I like living this way. I have my own opinion and you know it. Not all transgendered men who have sex reassignment surgery feel that they have become women; some are very unhappy and consider themselves feminised men, counterfeits, imposters or impersonators of the sex they so desire to become. What I’m saying is that getting a cunt will not buy me happiness; it’s not like I’m going to give you grandchildren! I’m happy as I am,” Penelope had never been so forthright and disrespectful of her mom.

“Oh my god Penelope you sound like a TERF! I’ve been through all this because of you; I gave up my marriage, I moved away from our home town to support your transition, but you’re just stalled,” Rosemary had never been so outspoken before.

“So what are you saying mom?” Penelope had put down her law book and was so angry that she was crying.

“Oh, shit or get off the pot for fuck sake!” Rosemary stormed out of the kitchen, went to her bedroom and slammed the door.

Penelope was even angrier than her mother was; she stormed to her bedroom, locked the door, threw off her clothes and went into her ensuite bathroom. She took her douche and filled it with warm water and douched herself; she’d had plenty of practise because even though she was a ‘virgin’ she had plenty of sex toys that she regularly used on herself. She brushed her teeth, showered and combed her long blonde hair.

She was a woman on a mission and she strode into her bedroom and threw a pile of clothes on the bed and then sat down and did her makeup. She applied heavy makeup with lots of black eyeliner, mascara, many hued eyeshadow, rouged cheeks and ruby-red lipstick. She teased out her hair and looked at herself in the mirror; she looked like a nineteen-eighty porn star, exactly the look she wanted.

Penelope stepped into a pair of black Vintage Lace Spanx panties that not only looked good; they would hold her tuck in place as she had no intention of taping. She pulled the panties halfway up her legs and then pushed her testes up into her inguinal canals and stretched her empty scrotum and penis along her perineum; she pulled the Spanx up tight and they held everything nicely in place. Next she slipped into a pair of flesh-toned ultra-sheer hold up stockings. She smoothed the wrinkles out of them and enjoyed the feel of their silkiness on her freshly shaved legs.

She put on a sheer black brassiere that looked sexy and also gave her B-cup breasts support, not that they really needed it. She slipped into a black, figure-hugging, cotton-spandex, micro-mini cocktail dress with sheer back and sleeves, she accessorised with gold earrings, necklace and bracelets and stepped into a pair of four-inch black high heels. She spun around in front of the mirror and was very happy with how she looked.

Emptying the handbag that she took every day to UC Berkeley Law School onto the bed she sorted through the jumble and tossed the essentials into a stylish black leather clutch purse with gold hardware. She took out a menthol cigarette, lit it, and tossed the cigarettes and lighter into her clutch and sashayed out the door; she was a woman on a mission.

When Penelope stopped in the hallway to collect her car keys Rosemary came out of her bedroom.

“Where are you going dressed like that! Are you smoking?” Rosemary was still angry.

“You wanted a real daughter mother, well I’m going to behave like one for you. I’m going to get laid!” Penelope snatched her keys off the side table and went out the front door.

Kyle Beamish had been coming onto Penelope ever since she started at UC. Penelope resited his advances, figuring he wasn’t serious and really just wanted to experience ‘fucking a tranny’. Still, he remained one of her closest friends and whilst she had been tempted to toss him a compensatory blowjob, she’d decided that it would get in the way of their friendship and send mixed messages.

She pulled up outside of his ground floor studio apartment, part of the off campus housing complex, and noted that he had turned on the security lights for her. He didn’t know why she was coming around, but she had texted him that she was on her way and he was prepared for a marathon study session now that they were so close to attaining their degrees.

He was shocked when he opened the door and saw how she was dressed.

“You got anything to drink in this dump?” she pushed him in the chest one-handed and as he staggered back she walked past him into apartment.

“I dunno.. I mean yes.. Sure.. Just let me…” Kyle stuttered; absolutely taken aback.

“Or we can just fuck and you can get me a drink after,” Penelope pulled Kyle into her arms and started to kiss him.

He soon got over his shock and any reservations he might have had and wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back. They kissed and groped each other as Penelope guided him backward towards his bed. He broke their embrace briefly to swipe the clothes, books, snacks and other sundry items that bachelors tend to keep on their bed, onto the floor.

Penelope pushed him back on the bed and straddled him; she looked down at him with her green eyes and he looked up at her bewildered.

“You know I have always adored you; you are so beautiful,” he smiled up at her.

“I’m not here for adoration Kyle; I just want my cherry taken,” Penelope glowered down at him.

“I can do that too,” Kyle swallowed.

Penelope lowered her face to his and they kissed, softly at first but soon became frenzied; Kyle was dressed only in his boxershorts and t-shirt and Penelope broke the kiss and ripped off his t-shirt but remained straddling him.

She lowered her face to him again and kissed him while her nails raked his chest.

“Oh, my god I’ve dreamed of this,” Kyle mumbled through crushed lips.

Penelope's hand strayed to his shorts and freed his already rampant erection; she stroked it, massaging the pre-ejaculate into the hard flesh. Kyle bucked underneath her and lifted her dress; she bent down and straightened her arms so he could pull it off her. He unclasped her bra and when her firm breasts fell free he pawed at them, tweaking her swollen nipples; she leaned forward and guided his face to her breasts and Kyle enthusiastically suckled them.

She cradled his head against her breasts while he nibbled and sucked on her nipples and she reached between their bodies to stroke his hard cock. She could sense his urgency and she was impatient to feel him inside her; her spanks were stretched as her tumescent penis became untucked. Kyle tentatively reached out and touched her hard flesh encased in the satiny spandex; a little globule of pre-seminal fluid leaked through the fabric. He scooped it up and bought it to his lips.

Penelope reciprocated and milked a bubble of pre–ejaculate from Kyle's erection and licked it. They smiled at each other lecherously. They both took a beat to shuck out of their underpants; Kyle was naked and Penelope was left dressed in only her stocking and heels which Kyle begged her to leave on because she looked so sexy.

“You want me dressed like a porn star?” she teased him.

“I just want you Penelope,” he sighed.

She lay down on the bed and Kyle got on top of her; pressing his body against hers as he kissed her. Their cocks rubbed against each other, the precum making them slippery and delightfully turgid.

“I like that,” Kyle whispered.

“Frottage,” Penelope smiled up at him.

“What?” Kyle rubbed his cock against hers.

“Frottage; it’s French for rubbing cocks,” Penelope giggled.

“What is the French for this,” Kyle slipped his cock between Penelope’s buttocks and placed the glans against her sphincter.

“I think it’s called fucking in all languages,” Penelope smirked.

She opened her legs and lifted herself up to help him. He pushed forward and his glans entered her pre-lubricated tight ring and she gasped. He stopped and let her get used to the thickness of it.

Penelope had used plenty of toys on herself but the feel Kyle’s hard flesh penetrating her was different; there was a little discomfort at first but it felt nice. She could feel the girth of his penis, his hard but still pliant flesh, she pushed herself upwards and Kyle sensed her need and thrust forward ever so slowly.

His cock was gripped tightly by her anus despite the lubrication; it clung to his manhood and felt like a velvet glove. He had to concentrate really hard to prevent a premature orgasm.

Penelope put her arms around him and locked her legs behind his back, instinctively rubbing her stocking-sheathed thighs on his flanks knowing it would stimulate him. Kyle pressed his lips to hers and slid his tongue into her mouth as he slid the remainder of his erection inside her tight anus.

She gasped with surprise and delight; being filled with Kyle's hard manhood was such an exhilarating and illicitly pleasurable experience. They began to rut, taking pleasure from each other as they kissed and fucked. They increased the tempo and Kyle’s glans pressed on Penelope’s prostate radiating intense pleasure through her anus and into her penis which was rubbing on his belly. Kyle could feel the heat from her cock; she was leaking precum on his flat hard belly. Far from him finding this repulsive, he found it extremely arousing.

They both gasped and groaned as their orgasms approached. They climaxed together, clinging to each other, kissing passionately as Kyle filled her with hot semen and she splashed her warm seed on his belly. The musty aroma of hot semen filled the air as they fucked each other fervently.

The couple slowly came down from their respective sexual pinnacles and kissed and fondled each other tenderly.

“That was wonderful,” Penelope sighed.

“It was the greatest,” Kyle grinned down at her.

“You took my cherry,” Penelope giggled.

“I took your cherry,” Kyle chuckled.

“Now get off me you oaf and find me something to drink,” Penelope pushed on Kyle's shoulders.

Kyle looked hurt.

“Don’t get all sooky on me honey. Once I’ve had a couple of drinks and if you can get it up, we’re going to fuck again,” Penelope eased herself out from under him.

Penelope spent the night with Kyle Beamish and enjoyed the sex but was a little concerned that Kyle was already becoming too clingy and mawkish.

“Penelope, I want to tell you that…” Penelope put a finger to his lips to silence him.

“It’s just sex Kyle; I’m not your girlfriend or anything,” she kissed his cheek at the door as she left.

When she climbed into her car she saw that she had left her cell phone on the passenger seat. There were five missed calls and as many texts from her mother begging her to come home. She initially thought it was just her mother expressing regret at their arguing but she had a feeling that there was something seriously awry.

When she arrived home she found her mother sitting in the lounge wearing a housecoat.

“It’s your father; he died yesterday. He was shot in the line of duty apparently,” Rosemary said mechanically.

The only memories of her father that Penelope had was from when she had been a boy; but they were fond. She knew that her gender dysphoria and transitioning had caused the breakdown of her parent’s marriage and she felt extremely guilty about it. She also believed her mother’s wish for Penelope to fully transition into a woman was spurred by the need to validate to herself that leaving her husband was justified.

“I’m going to the funeral,” the words just fell from Penelope’s mouth.

“No Penelope! They hate us there! When I left that place I vowed I would never return,” Rosemary said savagely.

“You can’t stop me mom!” Penelope was crying.

She had often thought of her father and although she knew he had turned her away at ten years old she could not stop loving him deep down, even though he wanted nothing to with her or her mother.

They argued until they were both exhausted but eventually Rosemary reluctantly agreed to accompany her daughter to Balwyn Texas to attend the funeral of Charlie Bishop, Sargent in the City of Balwyn Municipal Police Department.

Nearly the whole of the PD turned out for Charlie Bishop’s funeral service. Rosemary and Penelope deliberately arrived late so that they could sit up the back of the church. Charlie hadn’t remarried after his divorce but he did have a common-law wife who sat in the front row near the casket and accepted condolences. It was a different story at the graveside service, Rosemary and Penelope had to walk the gauntlet through a sea of blue uniforms, many of whom remembered Rosemary.

Most of the officers who spoke to Rosemary were very polite and offered their condolences; some even spent a few minutes chatting to her. Rosemary suspected that Charlie never admitted to anyone that his son had become a transgendered woman; he couldn’t have stood the shame and the perceived slur on his masculinity.

Many of the officers stared at Penelope; especially the younger ones. She wore a knee-length black dress, sheer black pantyhose, black high heels and a string of white pearls. Her mother was dressed identically and both having long blonde hair they could almost be sisters.

An older man in a police uniform bedecked with medal ribbons came over and took Rosemary’s arm and led her away from the crowd. Penelope couldn’t hear what was being said but she saw her mother becoming angry and then burst into tears. The man offered her a handkerchief but her mother pushed it away. The man tried to hug Rosemary but she shoved him away. He said a final remark to Rosemary which caused her to raise her hand but he caught it and then he turned away from her. He walked deliberately over to Penelope and loomed over her.

“Your Daddy is better off dead than seeing you like this,” he whispered in her ear.

Penelope froze. She was used to the occasional slur from the uneducated and bigoted; but this was like a knife to the heart.

The man kept walking back to the graveside but Penelope thawed and sprang after him; she grabbed his forearm and made him stop.

“Why would you say that?” her eyes were blurred with tears.

“Charlie was so proud of his son. He bragged that he would serve beside him when he grew up. Your dad was a legend in my PD but when you turned into that and your mother left him, it broke his heart,” he gripped Penelope's wrist until it hurt so much so that she had to release her hold on him.

By this time Rosemary had rushed over to protect her daughter.

“Take that thing back to hippy-ville with the rest of the freaks. You’re not wanted here,” he hissed and turned away.

Rosemary wanted to leave immediately but Penelope had become incensed and was determined to stay. She had always refused to be bullied by those who hated her because of her gender. They stayed for the internment and then went back to their hotel. After yet another argument Penelope left her mother at their hotel and went to The Longhorn bar to attend her father’s wake.

The place was a typical cop bar with Lone Star beer on tap and cheap well drinks; it was packed with men in blue uniforms, now in disarray, men in suits, equally disarrayed, and plenty of women. As expected, most of the men were drunk and boisterous, trying to outdo one and other as they told tales of daring-do and the shenanigans they had gotten up to on the job with Charlie Bishop. Penelope soon realised that her father was a legend in the Balwyn PD and was both honoured and revered by most of the other cops, the white Anglo cops anyway.

“Well I never knew Charlie had a daughter from his first marriage but then he never talked about Rosemary and his kid after you guys hit out for California,” one of the drunken police officers said talking squarely to her tits.

“Yeah well I don’t remember much about him; me being so young and all when we left,” Penelope deliberately misrepresented herself.

She went from group to group listening to stories about her pop. Of course some of the younger cops tried to hit on her but when they found out she was Charlie Bishop’s daughter they soon desisted out of respect. Not everyone was pleasant to her. The man who had aggrieved Penelope and Rosemary at the cemetery kept looking at her contemptuously and Charlie’s common-law wife, as drunk as any of the men, came over to her.

The woman was thin but with obviously enhanced breasts; she was tanned with long dark hair and hard-faced; but attractive in that untamed sort of way some men found addictive. She had changed out of her funeral attire and was wearing a denim skirt that was too short for the occasion, tan nylons, ankle cowboy-boots and a western shirt worn open to show off her bountiful bosom.

“I know who you are and what you are. Your daddy wanted you to be a cop but you became a sissy,” the woman hiccupped.

Another woman came over; she was bigger and dressed in jeans, chequered shirt and cowboy boots. She took the other woman by the arm and led her away and then came back.

“You don’t remember me do you?” the woman said.

Penelope shook her head.

“We used to play together in fourth grade right down the street there. You used to steal my dolls and I used to steal your toy trucks. I’m Molly Harper, one of the few lesbians serving in the Balwyn PD,” she held out her hand.

Penelope shook it and tried to remember Molly. She vaguely remembered playing with a bigger girl who sometimes beat her up when Penelope stole the girl’s dolls and a smile crossed her lips.

“There won’t be more than six people in this whole town who know who you are and that’s a good thing. They say your daddy despised you for what you became but I think he was secretly proud of you. You know he followed your progress through college and UC Law? We can get a bottle and I can tell you all about him if you like,” Molly grinned.

Molly got a bottle of bourbon and two glasses and they found a seat outside in back on the patio where smoking was permitted. They lit up and Molly told Penelope about her dad.

“Look Charlie Bishop was basically an asshole; I ain’t gonna sugarcoat it. A misogynist, racist, bigoted, womaniser who drank too much and was rumoured to be on the take. He passed up promotion to stay on the street,” Molly put out her cigarette and immediately lit another.

“But he schooled me. Most of the PD here are assholes, they hate women, they hate minorities and they hate homos. Charlie Bishop had equity, I’ll give him that; he hated everyone equally if you weren’t an Anglo hetero male. But for some reason he took a shine to me and showed me the ropes. Publicly he called me a box-biter but on the beat he treated me ok,” Molly studied her smoke.

“There are rumours that his death was linked to organised crime; like I said he allegedly was on the take and who knows how far up that goes. He was shot at point blank range behind Morganson’s Hardware. You’d think that with one of our own being shot we’d be balls out trying to find the killer, but the investigation has stalled already and the hierarchy don’t seem too keen on lighting a fire under it, if you know what I mean,” Molly said bitterly.

“I’ll tell you one thing doll; you’re better off out of Balwyn and you’re damn lucky that you didn’t follow your daddy into the PD,” Molly got up from her seat a little unsteadily.

They had drunk half the bottle and Molly had had plenty to drink before they sat down.

“See ya round doll… Actually, forget that; I hope I don’t see ya round. Get the fuck outta here and don’t come back,” Molly leaned in and kissed Penelope on the cheek.

Penelope and Rosemary had their final argument that night.

“You’re doing what!” Rosemary screamed.

“I’m applying to join the City of Balwyn Municipal Police Department and as soon as I get my degree I’m moving back here,” Penelope said.

“But what about the California bar exam? You’ve got half a dozen reputable law firms chasing you?” Rosemary was astonished.

“Is this some identity crisis thing and you need to follow in the footsteps of your daddy?” Rosemary was at her wits end.

“You know what? I don’t care! I’m done with you for now Penelope; we’re flying back home tomorrow and when we get there you’re moving out!” Rosemary snapped.

….

“Do I really gotta take the freak Frank?” Balwyn City Police Chief Daniel Balfour was a fourth generation cop; his father and grandfather before him had also been Police Chiefs in the City of Balwyn.

“Come on Danny; we been dealing with this shit for generations. First it was the slits, then the niggers, then the spics and the kikes. Then the homos and dykes; hell I think we got a towel-head out there somewhere and Johnny Eagle Claw is a fucking Apache Indian or some shit,” Mayor Frank Cannon prided himself on being an equal opportunity bigot.

“I tried pushing back on the Governor but we got no choice but to comply and let the fucking tranny in. You know how this works Danny; meet the fucking quota and push the freak out after she graduates,” Frank lit a cigar and shrugged his shoulders.

The State had minimum minority group quotas based on the size of each city police department but there were loopholes. Each PD had to not only recruit so many females, minorities, and now transgenders, they had to guarantee that the designated quota passed basic training and was fully indoctrinated into the PD. On top of that there were quotes to meet at each rank.

Daniel Balfour called female minorities ‘twofers’ and he joked that if he could recruit an Asian, lesbian with a disability he’d have a ‘fourfer’.

On the walls of his office Daniel Balfour proudly displayed framed pictures of the whole of the Police Department standing out the front of Police Plaza taken every year since 1970. As the years progressed the pictures became more multi-cultural and gender inclusive; or so it seemed.

The Balwyn PD had a system; they ensured that the minimum numbers to meet the quotas graduated the police academy regardless of the cadet’s performance. Then they promoted in the ranks to meet the quotas, but they promoted minorities and women into the worst jobs, administrative or bureaucratic positions that did not involve policework. If a female or minority officer resigned it was all the more better because the PD had still met the quota; the incumbent had simply left the Department of their own free will.

What this systematic extremist intolerance did was to coalesce the white male officers and turn them against the women and minorities because they were deemed to be promoted without merit. The women police officers disliked the minorities, who in turn disliked everyone because they were continually discriminated upon. This constant state of incoherence and mistrust meant that all of the power was concentrated in the hands of a few long serving senior white police officers.

Penelope texted Kyle from the airport, she didn’t give him any detail, just that she would be coming around his place and would be staying for a little while.

She pushed past him dragging her wheeled suitcase when he greeted her at the door.

“What’s going on Penelope?” Kyle sounded genuinely concerned.

Penelope had already kicked off her heels and was shucking out of her shorts and pulling off her t-shirt.

“You wanna talk about my problems or you wanna fuck?” she lay down on the bed wearing only her panties.

“Well both I guess,” Kyle said pulling off his t-shirt.

He climbed on the bed naked and Penelope opened her arms for him. He could sense that she was angry and was likely grudge-fucking him but a fuck was a fuck.

He kissed her passionately and when she began to moan he left her mouth and followed her long neck down to her shoulders with his tongue and then detoured to her breasts which he licked and then playfully bit. His hand found her hard in her panties and he freed her erection and squeezed it while he bit her nipples. Penelope writhed on the bed as Kyle continued his journey across her flat stomach and then licked at the tip of her penis.

“Yesss!” Penelope gripped his head and tried to force it down on her phallus but he resisted.

He licked the shaft of her penis only occasionally lapping at her glans; teasing her, sipping her precum; he fluttered his tongue on her scrotum and took her testes in his mouth whilst slowly stroking her shaft.

“Oh Kyle come on honey; you know what I want,” Penelope begged him, straining as she tried to force him to suck her cock.

Finally he enveloped her penis with his mouth, using his lips on her shaft and his tongue on her glans as she had taught him. He felt her cock begin to pulsate as her orgasm approached and she wrapped her fingers in his hair and thrust upwards, fucking his mouth.

“Yes honey; yes that’s it!” she pushed his face down on her cock.

Kyle slavered at her penis and was rewarded with a mouthful of creamy sperm. He held her down on the bed and sucked her hard penis as she writhed with pleasure, draining every drop, becoming less frenetic as she came down from her climax, knowing that her penis would become almost too sensitive after her orgasm.

Penelope might have been a virgin on their first tonight together, but she had taught him more about how to pleasure a lover than he had leaned since he had reached puberty; and he had put it good practice.

She pawed at him impatiently; she wanted him to hold her, to kiss her, to fuck her. Kyle obligingly climbed up her body and lay beside her and stroked her breasts tenderly. He reached for the water glass beside his bed.

“Don’t you dare! I want to taste myself,” Penelope pulled his face to hers and kissed him.

She slid her tongue into his mouth as she slid her body under him. She moved catlike, sensuously and languidly; he loved that about her. His penis poked at her belly and she impatiently shucked off her panties and grabbed a pillow from behind her head to support her buttocks as she pressed him to her puckered bud.

“Fuck me Kyle,” she whispered and rose to meet him.

He was impatient but Penelope was gracious; she was already pleasured so she wrapped her arms and legs around him and let him use her body for his gratification. She kissed him and bit his ear as he climaxed; she wriggled her buttocks to encourage him when she felt his cock convulse and flood her with his hot spend.

When they satisfied their lusting for each other they lay side by side smoking.

“How long you planning on staying?” Kyle pointed his chin at her suitcase.

“I was hoping until after graduation, so not long,” she rested the glass ashtray on her stomach.

“Ok. We split everything fifty-fifty ok?” he tapped his cigarette on the ashtray.

“Sure, and I’m charging a hundred for a fuck and fifty for a blowjob,” sometimes Penelope’s crudeness caught him off guard.

“You take bitcoin or credit?” he bantered.

“I’ll take credit, and I figure I’ve paid one month’s rent in sex already,” Penelope chuckled.

He liked it when she laughed.

“I’ll throw you a freebee if you can get that thing going again,” she waggled his flaccid penis.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Kyle looked into her green eyes.

“Don’t spoil a beautiful friendship,” she looked serious and Kyle knew not to push it.

“Ok, fuck-buddies it is then,” Kyle took the ashtray from Penelope's belly and snuggled up to her.

To be continued