The Lineup
by Bert Hart

I was filling out a dog license application at the City-County building when a cute cop walked up and asked if I could help him. Well, a woman my age has to keep her eyes open, so when a quick glance showed no ring on his third finger, I said yes.

Turned out they needed me to appear in a lineup. All six of us were brunettes in our twenties. Presumably one of us was the suspect. It was exciting, just like on TV! We stood side by side, our toes on a painted line, facing a one-way mirror. Height markings were painted on the wall behind us, and over the mirror was a sign. FOR YOUR PROTECTION, ALL SESSIONS ARE BEING VIDEOTAPED.I supposed the crime victim and some policemen were on the other side. The cute cop was in the room with us.

"Hello, I'm Officer Brian Brown. In a moment we will ask each of you to step forward, read a few words from the card we will give you, turn in right and left profile, and return to the line. Some of what you will be asked to read may embarrass you, so I'm going to tell you a bit about this case.

"Six days ago, the victim, a 52 year old male, was in a bar at night when he was approached by a woman who said she needed cab fare to get home. An amount was agreed upon, and they went to a nearby motel. The man, who was inebriated, subsequently claimed that his inability to fully perform the duties of their oral contract entitled him to a reduction in the fee. The woman disagreed, and a struggle ensued. The man suffered a broken left arm and states he was robbed of $500."

"#1, please step forward and read the indicated words."

#1 was a perfectly coiffed woman in a power suit. Her heels rapped smartly on the floor as she strode aggressively forward. She scarcely faltered as she read the words, but her face colored slightly.

"Cabs run $100 for a blow; $200 for a suck n' fuck; more if you want anything kinky."

I didn't think she could be the perp. Of course any man ever screwed over by a corporate bitch might enjoy humiliating a hooker dressed like her. But not many women can act that well.

#2 was some kind of biker chick, wearing the colors, on the heavy side. You could tell she really didn't give a crap, but when she got to the word "kinky" she smiled at Officer Brown.

#3 was a mousy housewife type, dressed plainly in cheap clothes, slumped a bit as if life had already beaten her down. She let her voice trail off when she got to the word "fuck" and stood there, momentarily stupefied. She turned and ran back to the line, forgetting to show her profile. I suppose some men go for the fake modesty routine, but this seemed too genuine. I counted her out.

#4 was yours truly. I was into screwing with Brown's head. I'd memorized the words so I looked straight at him when I spoke. A simple hand gesture followed by a little body language and he was running his tongue over his lips. Of course he absolutely knew I wasn't the perp because he'd recruited me. So his pathetic male brain had to be telling him I was coming on to him. I could see the other women were impressed. It was fun to think they thought I was the hooker.

#5 was my candidate for perphood. She had a hard face, and I noticed a scar on her wrist as she stepped forward. She read the lines without emotion.

#6 had a slight limp. She read with a pronounced East European accent.

Brown thanked us and left the room briefly to confer with the hidden observers. He came back smiling.

"#6, you may leave, thank you again for helping us out."

No doubt it was the accent which allowed the victim to quickly eliminate her. I mean, "sock 'n fock"? And then there were five.

Brown thought a moment before he continued, "Ladies, we have been talking to the vic, who as you may know was inebriated. He tells us that due to his condition, he really wasn't looking at faces. But as he did spend quite a bit of time in the motel being frustrated, he has asked if it would be possible for each of you to come forward topless. He is quite sure he can make a positive identification on that basis."

I really thought for a second that Officer Brown was teasing us. But when Power Suit started clipping off a few rounds about her civil liberties and Brown just stood there, taking it unsmilingly, I knew it was for real. The whole idea was rather delicious, actually, because Brown was making eye contact with me while Suit droned on and I could see how happy he wanted me to make him. But what did the others think?  I looked over at #5 and made an unbuttoning gesture and she nodded and mimicked me. But it was Biker Chick who beat us to it.

She popped off her jacket, tee, and bra, zip zap, no hesitation, and stepped forward nearly touching the mirror, putting her hands behind her neck and thrusting out two humongous tits.

"Do you remember these, asshole?"

There was a brief shocked silence. Behind the mirror a conference was being held. Then the intercom clicked on.

"#2, thank you for your assistance. You may dress and go."

I suppose it was the paired nipple rings. Or maybe the tasteful tattoo on her lower stomach. It was a simple arrow icon in red ink. It pointed downward.

I looked at #5 again, and we started undressing together. Brown was watching my every move. Naturally after such a long period of inactivity, I had to stretch a bit. Power Suit was looking at us disapprovingly. #5 suggested to Suit that perhaps she was afraid she wouldn't measure up. Suit took that as a challenge. By now she had to figure one of us was the hooker so that the whole sorry business would be over in a couple of minutes. Her hands went to her front.

Soon the three of us stood there topless, looking at poor Miss Mouse. Her blouse was off, but she was still wearing her bra. From the desperate look on her face it seemed she was quite unable to take it off.

"#3, would you like some assistance?" Brown's polite voice seemed to galvanize her. She shook her head in horror and in one quick motion unhooked herself and dropped it, her eyes fixed on the ground.

And no wonder she was reluctant. Miss Mouse was Minnie Mouse.

And so the four of us put on our little burlesque. Power Suit's tailored suit bottom, pantyhose, and clippity clops contrasted amusingly with her smallish round breasts, topped with erect pink nipples. Her lips were pressed together firmly as she stood before the mirror, obeying the instructions to put her hands behind her neck and stick out her chest, just as Biker Girl had done. It did seem that the victim was taking an awful long time to make up his mind. Naturally she had to pose in both left and right profile.

Minnie was, well, I suppose you might say a bust. Or rather...

#5 and I did OK. We actually looked about the same on top, that is to say, about average or maybe a bit above. At least we had Power Suit beaten. By now it had turned into a sort of competition. When I turned right profile I was facing Brown. I winked.

When we had all had our turns, we kind of stood around at the line, waiting to hear who could get dressed and go home. Minnie started to put on her bra, but Brown told her to wait. There was a long stressful silence. Fifteen minutes later it was starting to get awkward, especially as Brown was not the least bit inhibited about staring.

At last the door opened, and a flabby man in his 50's came in. We immediately covered ourselves.

"Hello, ladies, I'm D.A. Serge Shevishnikoff. We have an unfortunate situation here. We are quite dependent upon the victim for a proper identification, but he says he needs to see yet more of you. I have been researching the law and discussing the situation with Judge Savage. We have decided that we are going to go ahead and ask you to completely disrobe. Of course we are not suggesting that we are prepared to use force. But this is an official request, and I'm afraid I have to tell you that we are prepared to charge you with failure to comply with the lawful request of a police officer and obstruction of justice if you do not comply. We would be looking at some jail time then."

Once again I looked around to see what the others were doing. #5 had started on her shoes even before the D.A. had finished, and now without any hesitation she pulled everything down and stepped out. I supposed that she had been inside enough jails already. Stripping in front of men must likewise be routine. She was totally shaved. I think some men like that little girl look.

Power Suit looked at me and shrugged, as if to say "let's get this over with." She kicked off her clackers and pulled up her skirt to get at her pantyhose, which she began to slide down.

I joined her. I decided to brazen it out with Brown, mainly to cover up my own embarrassment. I locked eyes with him and grasped my pants, pulling them down to my ankles. Then I put my hands at the waistband of my panties and just for a second I slid both hands down inside, touching myself lightly while I made a little kiss at him. But he missed that, as he was not looking at my face. I guess he liked what he saw as I pulled my panties down. I don't shave bare, but I do a nice neat trim.  Just to be totally naughty I reached up and fondled my breasts while taking a wide stance. Poor Brown didn't know where to look first.

Power Suit wasn't wearing any clothes by now, yet she could be said not to be totally naked, for a huge untrimmed black bush obscured her vulva. Shielded by this last refuge of a modest woman, she walked forward to the mirror and stood before it, legs together, chest pushed out. Then she slowly spread her legs farther and farther apart until they were at full extension. She still wanted to play the part of the tough capable woman, but her blushing gave her away. She showed her profile, and then turned with her butt to the mirror, briefly bending forward and resting her hands on her thighs. She returned to the line and silently began to dress.

"#1, thank you. The victim does not believe you could have grown that in the brief time since the incident. You may leave."

Officer Brown was busy in the back of the room with Miss Mouse, who was still clothed below the waist. He was saying something softly into her ear and she was nodding. Then his hands were under her skirt. It was impossible to say what he was doing exactly, but suddenly she let out a small cry and thrust herself forward a tiny bit. Now she was taking off her skirt while Brown's hands were deftly sliding down her panties. We saw her tiny butt first as she stepped out of the clothes about her feet, then she turned and we saw her small swollen pink labia, dusted daintily with brown hair.

The three of us approached the mirror and basically did together what Power Suit had just done. I kept my eye on Brown as well as I could, and he certainly kept his eyes on me. The intercom clicked on again.

"#3, thank you, you may dress and leave. Based upon your physical attributes, the victim states you cannot be the perpetrator."

I figured it was the flat chest. But if that was the case, why make poor Minnie strip off everything?

Now of course it was down to just the two of us, and I must say we were pretty much a match physically. Our breasts were about the same size, and we both had medium pink nipples, now quite erect. Perhaps it all came down to the shaving. But of course it had to be #5 so I waited confidently for the word.

"#5, the victim does not remember the mole on your left buttock. Thank you, you may dress and leave."

I yelled out, "But I'm innocent! Officer Brown, you recruited me, you know that!"

Brown was now behind me, inches from my bare behind. He grasped my hands and brought them behind my back, and I felt cold steel close around them and heard the click of the lock. It's one thing to take part in a little teasing game, quite another to be handcuffed naked, standing before a mirror behind which there are an unknown number of men, knowing not what comes next.

"You are charged with felonious injury during the commission of a crime. You have the right to remain silent. You have..." I tuned him out. I was thinking of only one thing.

"Please, please, can I at least get dressed?"

"Oh, no," said Brown. "We will be wheeling in an examination table with stirrups. Then we'll adjust the video camera. Surely you know that all arrestees undergo a full body cavity search. If the officer behind the mirror will kindly come in, we will commence the further processing of Miss McComb."

Oh, my.

***     ***    ***   ***   ***

The three men met the next day for coffee, as they always did on Day 1 post-production.

"When did you tell Miss McComb she could leave?" said Officer Brown to the D.A.

"I wanted to get some footage of her slumped in her jail cell, so after we dressed her I incarcerated her for about an hour. Then as usual I opened the cell door and told her the victim had recanted and she was free to go. Naturally she was deliriously happy, like they always are. By the way, I did what you asked and told her you would be calling her about destruction of her arrest record and videotape."


"What do we have in mind for next month?" asked the D.A.

"I'm thinking blonde, college age, maybe a bit on the shy side. I can cruise some student bars a few days before we are ready," said Officer Karpinski, the voice behind the mirror.

"OK" said the D.A., "I'll call the agency and ask if they can supply the same five actresses they gave us last time we did a blonde."

Brown passed out a financial report from the previous month. They each got an envelope full of cash.

"Where does the McComb tape go?" asked Karpinski.

"After I duplicate it so we have a copy to give to her to destroy, I think I can sell it to that Australian shipping guy. You know the Prince has offered to take anything we produce, but that means we have to dub it in Arabic. Might as well save ourselves the trouble."

Brown had a sly look on his face, "I think I will wait a week or so before calling Miss McComb so her memory will be just a little less fresh. You remember how she was looking at me... perhaps we can have one last look at the tape together."

"You dog!"

Brown's wedding ring was now back on his finger, and it clinked softly as he raised his cup.