Date: Tue, 12 Jul 2005 22:34:20 -0700 (PDT)
From: tiffani stanson <madam_tiffani@yahoo.com>
Subject: Badges to Satin Chapter 1

Badges
By: Madam Tiffani Renee Stanson
Rants or Raves : Madam_Tiffani@yahoo.com


	Dave turned the key to his patrol car off, and unlocked his seat
belt, grabbed his duffle bag, got out, shut the car door and walked
inside. It had been that kind of day, where just about anybody would be
glad to be home, and rid of the days occurrences. Dave stripped of his
uniform shirt, and laid it over the back of his high back chair in his show
living room. He decided he'd take the brass off it Sunday night when he was
getting his new uniforms ready for the next workweek.

Dave had been a cop for well over 15 years, and he had attained the rank of
Sergeant, which allowed him some freedoms, but not as many as he would have
preferred. He spent so much time doing admin work these days, he rarely if
ever got to get on the street, and help his watch, but they worked well
without his direct supervision, and his two corporals earned their keep,
and their evaluations reflected it.

By this time, Dave had unfastened his gun belt, and casually, left it on
the breakfast counter, as he walked to the refrigerator to get a glass of
wine. He undid his under belt, and unbuttoned his uniform pants, sliding
them down his leg, revealing the one reason that Dave Stanson loved working
admin so much. Since he was in an office, and rarely on the street, the
danger of him getting hurt was greatly reduced, and it allowed him to
indulge in his wearing of women's lingerie under his uniform. That morning,
he had selected white thigh highs, attached to a French satin garter belt,
along with his favorite bridal satin panties, with embroidery on the
front. Dave casually rubbed his left hand against the material as he
reached into the fridge for his bottle of red wine. The touch of his own
hand sent chills down his spine as he reveled in the feeling. He took a
wine glass out of the strainer, and poured the wine slowly, languishing in
the feel of his hand. He felt his cock grow, and become turgid. He decided
that was enough of that. He then started undoing the Velcro that held his
bulletproof vest on, and slid the panels off of his body, and over his
head. Revealing beneath his vest, a set of beautifully crafted, D cup
breasts, held tightly against him in a French Bridal satin and lace
bra. The sweat on his shirt had caused the material of his t-shirt to bunch
up against the bra due to the rubbing of the vest, and Dave pulled the
t-shirt off, as it blocked the view of his favorite part of his body. Dave
had decided three years ago, when he made Sergeant that he was going to
treat himself. It was obvious that he was never going to go into the
private sector, and it was obvious that he was going to refrain from
marrying, since it would infringe on his desire to dress as a woman
whenever possible. Dave had been diagnosed by a therapist he had been
seeing as Transsexual, but going for SRS was strictly out of the
question. Dave knew that if he did that, he'd be ousted from Law
Enforcement, and it might even ruin his chances of getting a private sector
job.

Dave ran his hands over the material of the bra, savoring the coarseness of
the lace covering the satin, and enjoying the curves that he had added to
his body. The surgery for those curves had been done on his last two-week
vacation, at a Hospital in Atlanta. That had given him enough time to heal
up, and gave him enough time to get a new vest to cover up his most valued
body parts. In preparation of getting them, he had undergone months of
laser hair removal, because he wanted his breasts to be unfettered by
hair. He wanted the smoothness of a woman's body, and that's exactly what
he bought himself. He had even sold his bass boat, which had been
collecting dust for several years, to do it. Dave always laughed about that
bass boat, yet another manly obsession that he had felt compelled to own so
that he could further overcompensate for his intense feminine feelings and
thoughts. He never missed it. So, instead of entire Saturdays waxing a
boat, he spent about an hour a night moisturizing his precious breasts, and
pinching his nipples, enjoying the thrill of it, and feeling closer to
complete than he ever had before getting them.

Dave gathered up his vest and gun belt, and carried them upstairs, where he
deposited them on his bedroom easy chair. Then he walked over to his
closet, and selected a white satin dressing gown. Dave reached behind him,
and undid the clasps of his bra, and was thrilled to feel the cold air bite
at his sweat soaked breasts, once the wet bra came off. He looked down at
his poor mistreated breasts, and wished suddenly he didn't have to hide
them behind that vest. They were covered in ugly looking red marks, from
being compressed and sweaty. Dave rubbed his hands over them, trying to
work the marks out.  Eventually, they started to ease up, so Dave walked
over to his dresser, and selected a pair of white satin tap panties to wear
under the gown, since he loved that extra wispy feeling they gave him and
his dick. He never thought of it as a cock anymore, somehow, that seemed a
word of empowerment, and he didn't want it, so why empower it?

Dave unfastened his garter belt, and rolled the stockings down his legs,
unfastened the garter belt, and placed that and the stockings in his
hamper. Dave eased two fingers into his panties, and gently slid them down
his shaved legs, savoring the feel. Once off, they too went into the
hamper. Dave sauntered over to his bathroom, and turned the shower on, and
let the steam build up as he went to his bedroom telephone. He dialed a
number from memory and ordered a pizza from his favorite pizzeria. He
didn't order their pizza because it was good, he ordered it because he
liked to give the guy who delivered it a special tip. Every Friday night
for the past 2 and a half years, Dave had ordered pizza from that store,
and the same delivery guy brought it to his door. About a year before, the
guy had openly started flirting with Dave, who always answered the door en
femme. So that night, Dave pulled the pizza guy just inside the doorway,
unzipped his pants roughly, and blew the pizza guy right on the spot. This
had become their Friday night ritual. The pizza guy never asked for it,
never hinted at it, he always said,
	"Here's your pizza, that'll be 12.95." Dave would then roughly pull
the guy inside, unzip his pants, and begin sucking on his cock. Dave
enjoyed this little ritual, and needless to say, the pizza guy was always
happy to get stiffed on this particular tip.

Dave ordered the pizza, and got into the shower, enjoying the feel of the
suds on his breasts, and hairless skin. He showered just long enough to
soap the stink of the day off of himself, and got out, toweled off, and set
about putting on his nails, wig, and light makeup. After Dave had gotten
his breast job, he decided that his nipples were not as sensitive as he
would have liked, and his nipples were far too small, so Dave had ordered
some hormones off the Internet. He had tried a testosterone blocker along
with them, but found that they prevented him from enjoying any erections,
which Dave did enjoy from time to time. So Dave had gone back to strictly
female hormones. These hormones had treated his body well, allowing his
body to become proportionate to his breasts, softening his lines a bit,
making what body hair he had left very fine, and it seemed to allow him to
feel more at peace. They had also made his nipples more sensitive, larger,
and he had even lactated a few times after a week of higher dosages. Dave
went in a three and one cycle, which allowed him to lactate about one week
a month, since he would utilize his normal dosages for three weeks of the
month, and on the fourth, he would double his dosage. He found that this
cycle allowed him to feel at peace, yet still make fairly decent changes to
his body, but not so much that someone would take notice.

Dave slid the tap panties up his legs, enjoying the ticklish feeling, and
then pulled the gown over his head. He fastened the wig, and took a look at
himself.
	"Flawless, as usual." He said in his well practiced, hormone
enhanced voice.  Just as he started walking down the stairs, he heard the
doorbell, and he sauntered to the door. Since he was expecting the pizza
guy, he never bothered to look out the window. Upon opening it, Dave came
face to face with Jennifer Townsend, one of his former Corporals who had
transferred to Undercover Narcotics. She stood there, gawking at Dave.
	"Sarge?" She muttered incoherently. Dave stood there in shock as
well.
	Jennifer pushed against Dave's chest, almost recoiling at the feel
of a real breast under her hand, and she pushed Dave inside of his own
home. She felt his nipple harden under her palm, making her nipples harden
in turn, and making her gasp.
	"Damn Sarge, you can't answer the door like that, what if somebody
had seen?" She asked. Leave it to Jennifer to be thinking of his safety and
reputation. Dave still stood there, dumbfounded and shocked at having been
discovered. He didn't know what to say, or even that he could. He wanted to
formulate a story, but the low-cut gown revealed too much of Dave to say it
was merely a costume.