Let them have their fun, Lynn has important plans to lay out.

Seeing and of course hearing all of the wanton fucking and making out made Lynn smile where she was sitting on the cum-stained couch, holding the immobile Trixie in one arm, the exhausted, sloshing Sam next to her - although the pooltoy's eyes strayed over to where Darcy and Allie were making out on the beanbag chair more than once. The reason for Lynn's mirth was simple: None of the frat bros would have ever entertained the idea of an in-frat orgy - or rather, they might have, just not with each other. Now, they were much more liberal with their sexuality; and surprisingly, more respectful. For all the rampant sluttery and depravity all around, every one of the transformed frat members seemed to be much more receptive to the unspoken signals of their partners, not as focused on their own pleasure.

"Looks like we're ready for phase 2, then..." Lynn muttered, a wide grin spreading on her face.

"Uhm... remind me again: What's phase 2?" Sam put one finger on her light blue, rubber cheek, pushing the stretchy material in as she tried to remember what Lynn had told them before the rest of the frat members had arrived and taken into the rubber fold.

"Are you... seriously? I told you 20 minutes ago!"

"Lay off me, my head's literally empty!" Hitting said head with her flat palm, Sam stuck out her pink tongue with a wide smile at the hollow sound. "It's fun, though, especially if it gets filled with a fat cock, but I have a hard time remembering things, you know. Unless I focus reeeaally hard. Not that it was much better before - weed, you know - oooh, what do you think it would look like now, if I smoke a blunt? I bet I could let smoke out of my nipples!"

"Airhead." Lynn couldn't help but chuckle at the vigorous nod Sam gave her at this apt assessment. "Alright, I'll humour you. But do me a favor and focus reeeaally hard this time, alright?"

Sam gave a double thumbs-up and Lynn began to lay out the second phase of her plan.

The latex cop began with a little story from her first days at the precinct. She'd been one of three women in a precinct staffed with 35 people, and one of them was the Captain - hardened and unforgiving after clawing her way up against the ruthless competition. And while there was no rampant sexism in the precinct, the odd sandwich joke or thoughtless remarks about feminine hygiene products got very old pretty quick. With the Captain not offering any help, citing her own experiences and how they had helped her grow, Lynn had resigned herself to headbutting her way through the resistance. She had known that it would be tough, and Lynn considered herself strong enough to get through it, to make at least Detective, or even Captain, and enact some proper changes. Make the **** better.

The issue was that the problems within the **** ran much, much deeper than just the usual pinch of sexism in such a high-testosterone environment. Within her first two weeks, Lynn was approached by Detective Desmond Mitchell with an under-the-table offer. Not just an immoral one - the offer was downright illegal. Lynn had been wondering why there seemed to be next to no organized crime in Bay Cove, barely any gangs and curiously low crime statistics. Now she knew.

All the protection rackets, three quarters of the **** deals, even a good part of any weapons deals, all ran through one of the precincts in the city. Bribes lined the pockets of almost every officer from beat cop all the way up to the Chief of Police; there were third world countries in Southeast Asia with less corruption. Lynn's heart had dropped as Mitchell had laid all this out and offered to let her in on it, earn a little extra to the meager amount she took home each month. She had refused, of course, and threatened to report Mitchell - he had only laughed.

And when Lynn tried to hand in a proper report to the Captain, she had learned why: It was all true. Mitchell hadn't just covered his ass when he said that almost the whole **** was corrupt. The Captain had let her know in no uncertain terms that Lynn was either in - or out. As in, out of the ****. Gritting her teeth, she had pretended to give in, determined to collect evidence over time until she could bring the whole system down. The next years where a tightrope walk between staying out of the illegal operations as much as she could and not getting caught.

Until Lynn had arrested two frat members at a little beachfront bar. She had never imagined how much her life would change in the matter of one evening. For the first time since Lynn had joined the ****, she felt free again, sexy, powerful. Enough power to show the perps she'd picked up new joys, show them the error of their ways. Even fusing with her partner had been an eye-opening experience, Irons' singular drive - padding his solved cases before, fucking tight holes now - keeping her focused through all the insanity of the night.

And when Shawn had become Dawn, Lynn had had time to think. Dawn had clearly enjoyed what had happened, been so much into it that she egged the latex cop on. What if that was the solution to everything? Would everyone they changed feel like this? She needed to test that theory.

"Sooo~... That's why you came here, right?" Sam pouted cutely, seemingly deep in thought. "See if we would like it.""Hey, you are paying attention!"

"Yep! But... uhm... is it gonna be long, that story?" Chewing her lower lip, Sam looked over to the beanbag chair with longing. Darcy and Allie were in a tangled mess of writhing limbs, their dicks jutting up proudly and drooling lube. "I sooo wanna go over their and give those huge cocks a titfuck..."

"Which answers the question if you like it." Lynn smiled, not predatory. More relieved. "Don't worry, almost done."

Now that the frat bros had become the new and improved latex squad, Lynn knew that her half-formed plan would likely work. She would have preferred to do things properly, go through the whistle-blowing process and see the corrupt police **** of Bay Cove go down in flames, but with her body as it was now, that was no longer an option. But she had a much more... fun one now. She would see to it that every last cop in the city would receive the same treatment the frat members had. Not one of them seemed to mind their new bodies, their changed needs and desires in the slightest. Even if her former colleagues resisted at first, she would leave them no out - they hadn't given her one, after all.

"Buuut... isn't that kinda mean?"

"Listen, I'm not letting the last three fucking years go to waste." Lynn sounded grim and determined, lips pressed into a thin line. "If a little vigilantism is what it takes, then so be it."

"Okies!" It sounded like Sam was quite easy to convince - or maybe her attention span had ended and she had decided to turn to something different. "I'll go put some fat cocks between my titties now, alright? Thanks for explaining again, though."

Definitely the latter then. With a wry smile, Lynn watched as Sam bounced over to where Darcy and Allie had fused into a towering, purple being with massive endowments on their chest and between their legs. If she could turn a bunch of frat bros into wanton sluts, the chances she could change her former colleagues for the better were quite good. And it was really quite nice to see everyone enjoying themselves. Had Irons the rubber horsecock not been completely hard all the time anyways, he'd have become stiff from the sights and sounds around them within seconds.

Author's comment: Bloogman pointed out to me that DeVeers' willingness to change the cops against their will wasn't quite as in line with her characterization so far as I thought. So I decided to do a massive exposition dump that'll hopefully rectify that. I tried to imply some of it, but I overestimated my writing capabilities, I'd say.