Undercover Housewives (Cops to MILFs TG Preg)

By FoxFaceStories

An Anonymous Story Tier Prompt Series

Victor and Martin are rookies on a new undercover force that has a major operation underway. Intent on proving themselves, they sign up to help bust a new suburban drug operation, only to find out they need to become attractive undercover housewives to see the mission through! Will they get their bodies back, or will they go native while undercover?

Undercover Housewives

Part 1: Ah, But Men Underneath

Victor slapped his partner Martin on the back.

        “Hell yeah, it’s finally happening, bro! We’re finally getting to go undercover!”

        Martin nodded, feeling nervous. The young cop had always dreamed of being part of an undercover sting operation, but he and Victor were still rookies compared to the rest of the force at the station, and now their chief was putting them onto this super secret operation that required its own little safehouse to explain? Something wasn’t adding up.

        Victor saw that worry on his friend’s face. He patted Martin’s cheek condescendingly. “Oh, I see that look! You’re nervous about something. Don’t worry, this is all on the level. I’m sure this is how they do all their undercover ops, bro!”

        The two got along as partners, but weren’t exactly close friends or anything. Victor was tall, handsome, and excluded manly confidence. He was well-muscled and good with the ladies, and had bright blue eyes and perfect blonde hair. Martin, on the other hand, had struggled to pass the fitness test, and his mind ran more analytical. He was intent on rising up the ranks of the force, and knew the police codes backwards and forwards. He wasn’t bad looking, but he was socially awkward around women and the jock atmosphere of so many cops. It didn’t help that his hair was too curly by half, a chestnut brown contrasting against his overly pale Irish-heritage skin.

        “I’m just saying, there’s something weird about this,” Martin whispered as they approached the safehouse in their plain clothes. “Normally, there’s a series of legal steps for such an op. I’ve read about this. The information is delivered at HQ, too. The first step is not  the safehouse.”

        But Victor just grinned, patting his partner on the head a second time, despite knowing how much Martin hated the feel of it.

        “Partner, you worry too much. This just goes to show how trusted we are. We made good on that big bust the other week, so we’re getting pushed up the ranks ahead of time. This can only be a good thing! Just wait and you’ll see.”

        Martin wasn’t sure, but they reached the door to the apartment that was used by the police for undercover operations and support for their most elite informants. Victor made the particular series of knocks that he’d been requested to, and the door was unbolted and opened moments later. To their surprise, their own Chief Harrigan was on the other side.

        “Good timing, boys. We’re all set up. Come on in.”

        Even Victor was a little unsettled by this. He stopped inside, followed by Martin, and the pair couldn’t help but notice the two chairs in the middle of the room; the chairs with straps . There was also a fourth person; a doctor examining some syringes, and a fifth person; one of their female officers, Mandy Spritz, who was a damn good looker and who’d had a fling with Victor several months ago. He smiled at her, but she didn’t smile back. In fact, she looked away.

        “So, uh, Chief, what’s this about?” Victor asked.

        Harrigan gestured for them to sit in the chairs with the straps. “Sit down, boys. I’ll give you the full lowdown and we can get down to brass tax.”

        Confused, the pair did so, mindful of the straps. Martin wasn’t liking the feel of this, but Victor just took it all as a sign of how important this undercover operation was going to be.

        “I’ll be frank with you boys, I can’t give you much details on this one unless you sign on first. I’m sure you’ve heard of this new drug Haze?”

        The two men nodded, Victor especially growing excited. He’d heard of it, alright, and dreamed of being the one to help bring down the drug empire which had swelled in the last few years, seemingly out of nowhere. The drug produced high sensitivity and orgasm-like sensations, and was highly addictive. It even made women more fertile and men more virile. More than a few orgies had been busted by the police with haze as the main instigator for the resulting sexual fleshpile. The fact that it could make a woman’s chest go up a full cup size was another big reason why it was popular among women.

        “Definitely heard of it, chief,” Martin said. “There’s some interesting chemical reaction and-”

        “Good,” Harrigan said, taking a drag on his cigar. “Well, the thing is, we’ve got a lead on where it’s coming from. A quiet, upper-middle class suburban neighbourhood, believe it or not. You see, Haze is just the early prototype drug. The new batch they call Bliss , and it’s more powerful. Powerful enough that we need to eradicate the supply and take the dealers and producers at the top down . We need young men willing to sacrifice for this mission, men who are compatible and eager and hungry for glory. You in? I need a yes before we can go any further.”

        Victor’s response was immediate. “I’m in, Chief. Whatever you need, I’m in.”

        Martin was more hesitant, but while he was a good cop, he’d always struggled to stand up to pressure from his peers. And so, after several seconds of appearing to weigh it up, he looked into Victor’s eyes and felt that pressure upon him.

        “I’m in too,” he said, though he wished he hadn’t.

        “Good,” Harrigan said. “Sign here.”

        They both signed some quick documentation.

“Now, that’s sorted, it’s time to get this operation moving. It’s a big one, and you need to take it seriously. Because you’ll be giving this your all. Doc, you ready?”

        “Sure am,” the doctor said. “They need to be secured; the compound’s effects are powerful.”

        Victor smirked. “What’s this about, chief?”

        “I agree with my partner,” Martin said. “Why are we being strapped in?”

        “Like I said, boys, there’s parts I can’t tell you yet. You’ll just have to trust me.”        

        Even Victor was finding this a bit odd now, but he consented to allowing himself to be strapped into the chair. When they were both secure, the doctor produced two needles full of a strange yellow-like liquid.

        “Uhhh,” Martin said. “What’s this about? I didn’t consent to this!”

        “Shut up, partner,” Victor said. “I’ve read about this. They’re putting those fancy new trackers in our bloodstream. It’s a cinch.”

        “I - I guess that’s fine,” Martin said.

        The doctor, Harrigan, and even Mandy exchanged a quick look, but otherwise said nothing. At a nod from Harrigan, the serum was injected first into Victor, who took it stoically, and then into Martin, who winced just a little. Both men sat there, waiting for their straps to be released.

        “That everything?” Victor said. “I don’t think I need to be held down any longer, Chief.”

        Harrigan gave a sympathetic smile. “Now, this will feel strange, I’m sure. But trust me that it’s for an important reason. There was no other way to infiltrate this group, and it’ll all make sense once we explain the finer details. You just weren’t likely to sign on if I told you all of them first.”

        Martin frowned. He was starting to feel funny. “What are you talking about, Chief?”

        “I’ll let Mandy give you the lowdown, once this is all done. She’ll help you to, ah, adjust, you could say. For now, it shouldn’t take too long. Doctor?”

        The doctor nodded, checking his watch. “Changes should begin any moment n-”
        “NGHH!!”

        All eyes turned to Victor, who suddenly seized up. A strange discomfort had come over him, spreading across his body. It was like his cells were vibrating, shifting about and rippling. His skin tensed, as did his muscles.

        “AGGHH!”

        That was Martin, following after his less cautious partner. The pair grunted, writhing in their seats a little, their hands spasming.

        “Ch-Chief!” Victor grunted, voice cracking. “What’s g-going on here?”
        “Those weren’t t-trackers!” Martin added, his chest feeling funny. “That was s-something else! Ohhhh!”

        “I’m real sorry boys, but this is a big op, and you’re making a great sacrifice for it. Just ride it out. It’ll all make sense soon.”

        Victor had no idea what the Chief was talking about, only that his body was strange and wrong and it was starting to change . To his horror, his bones began to alter, his wide and impressive shoulders shrinking down. At the same time, his barrel chest pulled inwards, ribs withdrawing to leave his entire frame more petite. The straps still held him firm, but he was freaking out by this point, trying to pull his way out.

        “What the f-fuck!? What’s happening to meeee!”

         His Adam’s apple withdrew, leaving him with the voice of a woman. He gasped at this, voice going even higher to a sweet soprano, but then a further distraction came in the shape of his hair; it descended down over his face, blonde and slightly curled.

        “Your hair!” Martin cried, but then his own grew out as well, obscuring his vision until he shook his head. His voice cracked, becoming female as well and gaining, of all things, a slight hispanic accent as he spoke. “Why is my hair black!? Why do I have an accent and sound like a woman? Are these hallucinogens! This can’t be legal!”

        “No hallucinogens,” Harrigan said. “Mandy can confirm.”

        “It’s real,” she said. “I’ll be able to help you transition, once you’re-”

        But Victor was already interjecting, his expression one of purest horror. “WHY IS THERE A PRESSURE IN MY CHEST? WHY DOES IT FEEL LIKE I’M GROWING!?”

         His high voice gave way to a high groan as his chest began to surge forwards, two pairs of breasts forming, his nipples distending and growing in size as well. He whimpered, trying to shake himself out of his chair even as two rather large and impressive orbs grew into place, Double-D cups at the very least, if not larger. They wobbled and shifted, unsupported on his chest, the only thing that kept part of his shirt taut.

        “What the fuck!? What the actual FUCK!?”

        Martin looked at his partner in shock, not knowing what to do. But then his own chest began to bubble up, stretching and surging forth, two heavy boobs growing into place. They weren’t as prominent as his partners, but they still stretched his shirt and were quite bountiful C-cups at the very least, certainly enough to be a pair of absolute palm-fillers.

        “Ohhhhh,” he moaned. “How can this possibly help the mission?”

        But Harrigan was no longer answering, letting the changes play out while the doctor checked on their progress. Martin began to pant his entire skin warming as it darkened in tone, taking on a lovely bronze colouring. His cheekbones lifted, his eyebrows thickening, and even his lips took on a poutier, fuller appearance.

        “You look like a fucking Latina, Martin!” Victor exclaimed, but then was promptly distracted by his own changes. The wind was knocked out of him as his waist thinned considerably, only for his hips to spread wider. The bones audibly creaked as his pelvis changed shape, and Martin’s own changes were not far behind his. Victor’s eyes were already blue, but now they seemed to enlarge, taking on an even lovelier, ocean blue aspect, while jaw cracked and formed his face into a cuter heart shape.

        “Fuck you, Chief!” he exclaimed, moaning as his butt inflated and his body hair fell away. “What is this, some kinda sex trafficking operation!? You can’t - ahhh - do this to us!”

        “It ain’t that, Victor,” Harrigan said. “It’s just the only way, and you two need to prove yourselves.”

        “What could p-possibly explain this?” Martin managed. His hips were spreading far wider than Victor’s. His limbs were becoming lithe, and his age seemed to be increasing; both of them looked to be in their mid-thirties now. In fact, while they weren’t clothed for it, they looked like a pair of suburban women, the kind of MILFs that Victor loved to chase from time to time. Martin withheld a pleasurable moan, one concentrated in his crotch. His penis began to slide back inside of him, and the same was true of Victor, who was now gasping as if in the throes of absolute pleasure. The more outspoken and brash of the pair swore and cussed between said moans, however, but the bliss was undeniable as it was unwanted.

        “You can’t - ahhh - take away - mhmm - my penis! OHHHHHH!!!”

        The pair exploded into simultaneous orgasms as their changes completed, an ecstasy so great it made every sexual pleasure prior to this moment seem insignificant in comparison. They both panted, struggling to stay conscious after such an immense event, and during this time their changes slowly completed themselves, the last curves and slim dimensions and alterations finalising.

        Mandy brought over a mirror on wheels for the pair, allowing them to see themselves. Both were astonished and horrified. Victor now looked like a very attractive mid-thirties white woman, hair long and blonde, going down to her shoulders. She had a very prominent bust, even bigger than Victor thought she had, because she was most definitely a she  now. Her waist was slim in the now-baggy shirt, and her legs long. All in all, she looked like a total MILF in his eyes.

        Martin was just as beautiful. She was clearly a bronze-skinned hispanic woman or latina, and her hips were impressively wide, her backside prominent too; she could tell from the extra padding beneath her. More than that, she had a real hourglass figure, and while her breasts weren’t as big as Victor’s, they certainly weren’t small either. Her hair was even longer, too, going all the way down to the small of her back in thick black curls that were beautiful to see.

        Victor swore. She swore many times, her incredibly sweet voice and appearance a total contrast to her endless invectives. Martin was more curious, needing answers.

        “Why?” she simply said, her voice still accented. “Why and how?”

        Harrigan fished out a small vial. “This is why,” he said, indicating the yellow liquid that looked like a paler version of what they had just been injected with. “Bliss. The new variant. The highly addictive one. Strong enough to cause gender change, or to create an idealised female body. Whoever is operating out of Wystemere Lane, the suburb that’s the centre of this new drug empire, has the entire area on lockdown. You see, this drug doesn’t just cause changes and addiction, it also seems to effectively enslave its users, leaving them totally loyal to their drug dealers. We haven’t been able to crack into their organisation, and they can quite literally smell  someone who is not under the drug’s effects. The only  way to go undercover is for you to literally go deep undercover. And given that all we know about this drug queenpin is that she’s a woman, well, we needed you to become so.”

        “That’s fucking insane!” Victor whined.

        But Martin’s mind was already working. She could see the twisted logic in it. “Why am I Hispanic, then?”

        “Because there’s a small but significant number of Mexican-Americans in the neighbourhood, both as workers and as wealthy suburban houseowners. We needed the extra insurance, and while we could have taken in one of our own hispanic officers, you were the only ones eager enough to sign onto this op with no questions asked.”

        The two former men burned with humiliation. Martin fell silent, trying to cope with the fact that her body now felt so very different, so wrong . Her hips were wide, her hair long, and her face alone!

        Victor had no intention of being so silent. “I’ll fucking kill you!” the buxom blonde shouted, her big breasts flopping about with every shake of the chair. “I’ll kill you for this, Harrigan! I’ll seriously kill you!”

        “Calm down, Victor, and that’s an order!” the Chief shouted. “Especially since the only way to turn back is to get this operation sorted out quick and clean. You got me?”

        Victor did indeed go silent. “This is so fucked.”

        “Well, I didn’t want to do this, but the Mayor wants results, and the Governor is getting in on it. So it’s time for radical action. Lucky for us our lab boys were able to synthesise a faster-acting Bliss compound without  leaving you mentally gaga, huh?”

        “Can you at least undo these straps?” Martin asked.

        “That depends. Still gonna attack me, Victor?”

        Victor grimaced. “No. Only because I got the strength of a paper bag, now.”

        “Thataboy. Mandy?”

        Mandy came over to them and helped them out of the chairs. Both former men felt weak, but it was hard to tell if it was because they’d just become women or because they were so shocked by their changes. Victor immediately felt at her crotch, uncaring about the female company, and then let out a sound like a death rattle.

        “Couldn’t leave me with a damn cock? Goddamn this! You stole my dick!”

        Martin didn’t need to check. She could feel the absence between her bronze thighs.

        “Well, you can get it back,” Harrigan said. “But only once we bring in this Queenpin and shut down her operation and wherever she’s making bliss. That means you two are going undercover. Mandy?”

        The attractive female officer stepped forward and handed them some documentation

        “You’ll be Veronica de Kamp,” she said. “And you, Martin, will be Martina Soles. You’re both thirty five years old and you’ve both recently purchased new homes. You’re also both mothers.”

        “What!?” Victor cried. “Youv’e got to be fucking kidding me!?”

        “Most of the women in the neighbourhood are mothers, and this will get you access to many of their events, which are child-based. Don’t worry, you won’t actually be falling pregnant - unless you cause it.”

        “Which I won’t,” Victor said angrily.

        “But we’ve organised for three children to be adopted into your care. Veronica, you have two twins, both six months old.”

        “You’re fucking kidding me.”

        “Martina, you’ve got only one child. Also six months along. Your neighbours, and friends. I’ll give you more details on your children, but don’t worry, the babies are young, and the effects of Bliss will help with some maternal instincts. Your milk will also be coming in soon, to help with breastfeeding.”

        Martin had to sit down for a moment. Veronica just started swearing again.

        “This is insane,” Martina said. “How can we - how can we possibly do this?”

        “That’s what I’m here for,” Mandy said. “I’m your female expert. I’ll be helping you dress fashionably and appropriately. I’ve got a little one at home, so I can help you with the nursing and babycare aspects. I’ll be training you over the next week to prepare for your roles, and that includes makeup, how to walk like a woman, how to talk like one and pose like one, how to act the part of a single suburban mother so that you’ll blend into Wystemere Lane without issue.”

        The newly named Veronica and Martina looked to one another, the two new women unable to cope with all of this overwhelming change.

        “And we have to go through with this insanity?” Veronica asked.

        “That’s right,” their chief said. “Unless you two want to stay women. Now I’m going to leave, and Mandy here will get you into some new outfits and hairstyles so we can get pictures for your new ID’s. Remember to smile, ladies.”

        He tipped his hat and walked away, leaving the pair in their transformed states.

It was at this point that Martina looked down at her changed body and then to Veronica, who shared a glance with her.

“I told you this was a bad idea, Veronica .”

Part 2: Pretty Little Pictures

The next week of training under Mandy’s tutelage was utterly humiliating, especially for Victor, now Veronica   de Kamp . The gorgeous blonde with the very large bust was incandescent with rage at having become a woman. She had previously been a stud, a real ladies man, cocky and overconfident and willing to take on the world. Now she couldn’t even see her own damn feet because her tits were so big, and everywhere she walked, she found herself sashaying her hips automatically. She couldn’t look more like a hot MILF if she tried, and it threw her every time she saw herself in her reflection, or heard her own sweet voice as she spoke, or experienced the pneumatic wobble of her large breasts.

“This sucks!” she complained for the umpteenth time to Mandy, her trainer. “You should be doing this!”

“We already explained why that won’t be the case,” Mandy said, sighing. “Now show me the walk again. You need to stop trying to do a manly strut and just let yourself walk like a woman.”

Veronica groaned. They were in a secret training facility that was effectively just another warehouse, albeit one that had a goddamn change room and dressing table  for makeup application. She gestured to Martina Soles, the deeply gorgeous latina woman who had been the pale-faced, Irish-haired  Martin  just two days ago.

“What about her? You aren’t getting on her case!”

Mandy smirked. “That’s because she’s adjusting faster than you are. Show us, Martina.”

The new latina blushed and walked the length of the warehouse. Sure enough, her hips swayed gently, and she composed herself like a self-assured woman, not that she truly wanted to.

“Ugh, what are you, gay or something?” Veronica said.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Martina replied.

“Trans, then.”

“No!” Martina protested, still getting used to her new hispanic accent. “I’m just . . . wanting this to be over with.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“Hey, this was your loco  idea, hermana! At least you haven’t changed race and keep thinking in another language, si ?"

Veronica sighed. “Fine, whatever. At least you don’t have goddamn F-cups . These tits are way too huge. Why’d you make them so fucking big, Mandy? Or was that Harrigan’s idea?”

“It was neither,” she explained. “It’s just good luck, I suppose. Colour me jealous. Well, actually, I’d like just slightly smaller boobs. Yours are a bit too much for my taste.”

“Lucky you,” Veronica said venomously, but she performed the walk again without any complaint, and this time managed to purge any instinct remaining to keep a manly strut. Instead, her hips pivoted and sashayed, and her bra thankfully kept her boobs from wobbling too much, though with their size there was always a slight wobble. Goddamn, it was weird suddenly having her nipples out there  instead of closer to home. Just one of the many shameful things about this new bod.

“Much better!” Mandy proclaimed. “You’re a natural.”

“This is anything but fucking natural.”

“Well, be that as it may, it’s time to look at makeup. Come over here, you two. How are you feeling, Martina? Is the dress alright?”

The lovely latina looked down at the gorgeous yellow dress she was wearing, a fashionable ensemble for an upscale woman around the home. She sighed.

“I would rather pants,” she said.

“You’ll get them, but we need you to get used to dresses.”

Martina could see the logic in it. In truth, she didn’t blame Mandy. This was Victor/Veronica’s fault, as far as she was concerned, though she wasn’t the type to start an argument over it, unlike Veronica. Instead, she moved to the dresser, Veronica mumbling under her breath and following her, while Mandy showed them rack after rack of various makeup utensils.

“Okay, time for an intensive session!” she declared. “Lipstick first for ease, then some lessons on foundation and general skincare. Let’s begin!”

‘Intensive’ was the right way to describe the week that followed. It was more like a total boot camp than the ‘female getaway’ Mandy joked about it being. They had to learn everything about their new lives and the expectations upon their bodies and roles. Such lessons ranged from mastering makeup to dealing with feminine hygiene (Martina just about fainted when confronted with the prospect of wearing pads , while Veronica began a shouting match), to remembering to cross their legs and not ‘manspread’ in public places. Veronica hated having to deal with her hair, though Martina had it harder due to its length. Clothing was another thing; they had to learn their sizes and body types, and work at putting on bras naturally, and even bikinis. The neighbourhood was just forty minutes from a lovely beach, necessitating the pair of them getting comfortable in such wears.

“Can’t I have a goddamn bikini that doesn’t make my tits wobble with each step!” Veronica whined.

Mandy chuckled at this. “Sorry, Von, but with a rack like that, no bikini on earth will be robust enough!”

They also had childcare lessons, practising with dummy babies. This was perhaps the most humiliating lesson, except for the one where they had to figure out how to insert a tampon. That was because it required them to learn how to change diapers, burp their children, how to speak in a high, feminine ‘baby voice.’ Martina was doubly annoyed; she was expected to talk to her child in both Spanish and  English. And, of course, there was the looming threat of the next injection. Mandy had informed them about this.

“As I said, you will  be breastfeeding, so before the mission starts there’ll be one more injection to get your milk flowing. You may both go up a cup size, just a heads up.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Veronica screeched.

“We’re already so big,” Martina said, cupping her DD breasts.

“Please, you wish you had my problems!”

        Of course, Veronica and Martina both knew that they couldn’t escape the mission. Harrigan had made it clear; the only  way to turn back was to succeed in this undercover operation, and that meant becoming single ladies with babies they were taking care of, all to infiltrate the mysteriously hidden drug operation in the neighbourhood. The Bliss drug trade had to be stopped, and their chief wanted results. If they failed to get them, well, they might end up being a pair of female cops for good. And neither wanted that, especially since Martina wasn’t even her Caucasian self anymore, and Veronica’s breasts were each the size of overly-large cantaloupes!

        So they trained. They learned. They suffered the humiliation of figuring out how to stand and walk in heels and how to do their hair and what things to say and how to act in order to convince members of the neighbourhood that they were a pair of lovely single mothers on the hunt for some delicious silver-haired foxes to become their husbands and help raise their babies. They were ‘desperate housewives to be’, as Mandy put it, keen to become hitched again and therefore the exact kind of person the Bliss dealer would target; someone who would want to remain beautiful and fertile, and have a servile man made suggestible by his own concoction of Bliss extract. The only comfort Martina found was in studying the file notes extensively, going over the various suspects and individuals of the neighbourhood.

        There was Mr and Mrs Hetty, the wealthy golf-playing WASPy couple with several children.

        There were the Andersons, art dealers who had been there for two years and were expecting their third child.

        There was Mr Li and his wife, both Chinese-Americans. She was a stay-at-home mom while he worked in a corporate banking career.

        And lastly, in their immediate vicinity, there was the Rodriquez family, composed of two  couples who lived beside one another, with large flocks of children themselves.

        There were many others, but Martina felt that these were a solid start, at least. Each was beautiful, ranging from their late twenties to their late thirties, and all had children or were expecting children. Harrigan had been right: getting in required them to carry the scent of Bliss in their bodies, and to pose as young mothers. It was exactly the kind of position that would allow them to flourish in their investigation. But when she told it like that to Veronica, the buxom blonde scowled.

        “Still doesn’t make it fair that they stole my freaking dick, does it?”

        Martina sighed with her. “No, it really doesn’t. But we still need to solve this case.”

        “Fine, fine! Give me the files and I’ll do a read up as well. God, our prep better be near the end, I swear.”

        It was, though there were still some details that needed to be ironed out. Both women were given their new IDs and qualifications. They were both currently jobless, receiving ‘alimony’ from their ex-husbands, but both were socialising and clearly looking for a man in their life. They received full wardrobes, and to Veronica’s despair hers even had some very sexy lingerie. Mandy blushed a little at that.

        “You’ll remember in your files that you’re meant to be a little . . . flirtatious.”

        “Goddamn it. Fuck this! I’m not wearing that strappy little dress! And especially not any lingerie!”

        Meanwhile, Martinez got a variety of stylish, flowing dresses that made her look like the very image of elegance. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that, though it certainly made her go red in the cheeks.

        Finally, after lessons in female shaving and skincare and socialising language and female hygiene and bra-fittings and so on and so forth, finally the moment came: the day when the pair would be introduced to their babies. Neither woman was keen, though at least Martina had some academic interest. She’d always wanted to have a family, so she tried to think that at least this would give her some kind of experience, strange as it was.

“Here they are,” Mandy said, pushing a pair of strollers in with some help from a caretaker. “Your new babies. Don’t worry, you can come on over. They’re awake but peaceful, and ready to meet their new mommies.”

Martina approached awkwardly. Becoming a woman hadn’t exactly helped with her social skills, and she was more interested in solving the case than in meeting a baby. Still, she knew this part of her charge, and so she peaked into the carriage to see a rather adorable little Hispanic baby with bronze skin and little dark curls just beginning to grow out. She blinked a few times. It was odd, but she felt a strange . . . connection to this child. She couldn’t quite explain it, but it was there.

“Hello, you,” she said.

The baby smiled, then made something like a giggling sound. It made her nipples tense a little, especially when the baby reached up for her.

“Meet little Gabriel,” Mandy said. “You can pick him up if you like.”

Martina reached in but hesitated. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Just hold him like we trained you.”

She did so. The real thing felt a lot stranger, but in a few moments little Gabriel was comfortable in her arms. He was a very cute child in a little onesie, looking up at her like she’d hung the moon. Martina found it hard not to smile.

Veronica, meanwhile, was aghast. “I thought you were joking about the twins!” she said, gesturing at the double-pram.

“Not at all,” Mandy said. “One aspect of bless is extra fertility, so this is a good way to ensure the believability of your story, both of you having come into contact with Bliss and wanting more. Why do you think you’ve got such big hooters?”

Veronica cringed. “I am not  breastfeeding,” she said.

“Actually, you’ll have to,” Mandy added. “Erin and Esther here will need your milk. Besides, look at them! Both adorable blondes, like you!”

Veronica grumbled. “It’s not gonna happen. If I have to pretend to be a mom then whatever, I’ll fucking deal since you’ve got me over a barrel. But there’s no universe where - owie!”

The fact that she’d proclaimed ‘owie’ was embarrassing, but she whirred on the spot and chose anger instead, because Many had just gotten her with a needle, and then stabbed Martina gently in the arm with a spare.

“Hey!” Martina said. “What gives?”

“The final injection,” Mandy said, as promised. “The effects should start soon.”

Both women rubbed their arms. “What effects?” they said as one.

Mandy just smiled. “Let’s get you organised to head to Wystemere Lane, shall we? It’s time for this undercover housewives operation to finally begin. Well, prospective housewives, at least.”

But Veronica was adamant. Her nipples were starting to throb, and her breasts were feeling . . . warm. Warmer than usual.

“What goddamn effects?” she said, cupping her chest.

“You’ll see.”

***

“Mandy said we should be smiling as we approach our new houses,” Martina reminded her partner as they wheeled their prams along the sidewalk of Wystemere Lane.

        Veronica put on the fakest grin she’d ever seen, her teeth gritted and furious.

        “Oh, really? We should be smiling about this? I’m a fucking MILF and my tits are full with milk! Ngh! Stop here, I need to feed. Again.”

        Martina was glad, because she too needed to express. The effects of the injection were clear; they had started to lactate just hours after the serum had been applied, and in Veronica’s case it was quite prodigious. A good thing too, because golden-haired Esther and Erin were very hungry little babies, and to her utter humiliation she now needed  to breastfeed, lest her boobs feel like they were going to explode.

        “Ahh,” she moaned, both her babies latching at her breasts now that she’d unbuttoned the front of her dress. “That’s better. Fuck me, this shit is crazy.”

        “It’s not really crazy,” Martina said, taking some time to feed Gabriel, who took a little longer to latch. Her milk flowed and she sighed. It really was strangely cathartic, though her analytical mind was trying to make sense of the emotions it gave her. “It’s science. Crazy loco  science, you can argue, but-”

        “I don’t want to hear it. No offence, partner, but you’re such a nerd.”

        “We shouldn’t call each other partner, remember? We’re best friends who are becoming neighbours.”

        “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

        They were both dressed impeccably. The delivery trucks were already on their way to their new homes, and they themselves were taking a little tour of the neighbourhood before arriving at 16 and 18 Wystemere Lane, where they would now live. Harrigan had given them an update through Mandy that they could expect an update from their previous mole, an officer who had gone undercover but had, apparently, ‘failed and failed big time.’ They weren’t sure exactly what that meant, but this agent was supposedly male and would greet them from across the street with the statement ‘What a fine evening it is to have new neighbours, wouldn’t you say?’

        Finally, the nursing break ended. An embarrassed Veronica put her babies back down, both heading into sleep once more, and the pair continued to stroll through the high-class neighbourhood looking like a pair of stylish and very yummy mommies. It didn’t hurt that their asses swayed, both wearing lovely breastfeeding dresses that pulled tight against their figures while leaving enough to the imagination. Veronica was in blue, and Martina was in bright yellow, and the pair conversed idly about what to expect when it came to their operation.

        “Just so long as I don’t have to wear a fucking G-up bra much longer,” Veronica whined.

        “I thought you were an F-cup?”

        “I was, but I’m bigger thanks to this goddamn milk. What are you?”

        “An E-cup now,” Martina said. “My hips are the big thing. And my culo .”

        “Yeah, that’s an ass I’d love to fuck if I hadn’t been turned into a woman. Shit, I’m not even sure if I’m into  women in this body.”

        Martina gulped. She didn’t like the sound of that.

        Thankfully, they could both cast that thought aside as they reached their houses. They were rather lovely; suburban yet expansive, and very modern and chic. It was irritating  to say the least that they finally had houses instead of crippling mortgages, but the only way to keep them was to go undercover as attractive mid-thirties single moms. The delivery trucks were already there, the men organising the furniture into the house as Mandy had already instructed. It was very . . . decorative. Not in keeping with Martina’s usual minimalist style at all, or the usual mess that Veronica would leave all around her apartment.

        “Here we are,” Veronica said, pulling her pram to a stop and folding her arms beneath her hefty bosom. “This is going to be . . . neighbour.”

        Martina nodded. She tried to focus her brain on the puzzle-solving element instead of the awkwardness of her new body, gender, and race. There were things to do. People to investigate. A conspiracy board to set up. But before she could arrange her thoughts properly, a voice called out.

        “Well, hello there, neighbours!”

        They turned. A rather beautiful black woman wearing a flowing green maternity dress was waving at them from across the street. Her hair was in gorgeously long black braids, and her smile was wide as the day was long.

        “Oh, uh, hola!”  Martina yelled, waving back.

        “Hey,” Veronica said, without waving.

        “You’re the two new birds in the neighbourhood, huh? And you’ve got some pretty little babies there, huh?”

        She waddled over to them, much to the irritation of Veronica, who really didn’t want social contact right now. Her belly was large, almost to the end of the third trimester to look at her. She puffed a little as she stopped.

        “I’m Ariana Lackey,” she said. “Your friend across the street! Lovely to make your acquaintance.”

        “ Si ,” Martina said, unsure of what else to say. She took the woman’s hand and shook it lightly. “And, uh, congratulations.”

        The woman looked down. “Ah, of course! Still getting used to this. That’s my husband at work for you. Really wanted us to settle down. Twins, of course.”

        “Same,” Veronica said, voice laced with venom.

        “And what beautiful little girls they are! I didn’t catch your names?”

        “Martina Soles.”

        “Veronica de Kamp.”

        “Lovely to meet you both,” Adriana Lackey said. “What a fine evening it is to have new neighbours, wouldn’t you say?”

        The two paused at that, their eyes suddenly wide.

        “Y-you’re the contact?” Martina said. “But you - you were a man, and you’re gravida!”

         “Shh,” Ariana said, putting a finger up to her lips. “There are eyes and ears everywhere. Come with me, and laugh as we talk. You never know who is listening in Wystemere Lane. Now come and have some tea with me, won’t you?”

        She waddled back to her home, gesturing for them to follow. Unsure of what else to do, the pair followed, shocked that their male contact had somehow become a very pregnant woman and housewife to boot. It filled the pair with a sense of anxiousness, especially because of what they saw next. Every house in the neighbourhood now had someone by the window or out on the porch staring at them as they headed to Ariana’s home.

        Every. Single. One.