Mad with power

Chapter 8: Power Swap

I stood in the chief’s strong, stocky body, cock already throbbing in his uniform pants as I stared at the pathetic sight in front of me. Captain Morales — now trapped in Terry’s soft, curvy, middle-aged Canadian body — was still groping at the heavy tits spilling out of the open blouse, eyes wide with terror.

Before he could scream again, I moved fast. I grabbed him by the hair and roughly bent him over the desk, pressing his new soft belly and massive tits against the wooden surface. Terry’s ass stuck out invitingly under the tight pencil skirt.

“¡No! Please—!” he cried in Terry’s sweet voice.

I reached around and shoved my hand up under the skirt, roughly grabbing his new pussy through the damp panties. I squeezed hard, fingers pressing between the swollen lips. “Shut your fucking mouth,” I growled in the chief’s deep voice, “or I’ll book you as a whore in this body and let every officer in the station have a turn. Understand?”

He whimpered, body trembling. I kept my hand firmly on his new cunt, rubbing it possessively while my other hand mauled one of Terry’s heavy tits. He moaned involuntarily as the female body responded against his will.

“Y-yes… I’ll be quiet,” he whispered brokenly, will completely shattered. “Please… I’ll do whatever you say.”

“Good girl.”

I stepped back, adjusting my new hard cock. A much bigger plan was forming in my head. With this stone, I didn’t need to just get my old body back. I could own this entire town.

I pressed the intercom. “Send Officer Ruiz in here. And tell him to bring one of the working girls from holding.”

Over the next thirty minutes, I executed my new plan with ruthless efficiency.

Officer Ruiz brought in a trashy-looking hooker. I had them both touch the stone. Flash. Now Ruiz was in the hooker’s body, looking confused as hell in cheap lingerie. The hooker was in Ruiz’s male cop body, grinning like she’d won the lottery.

“Welcome to the crew,” I told her (now him). “You work for me now.”

We repeated it again and again. I called in more officers, one by one. Each time, a hooker got swapped into a cop’s body and recruited. Each cop got shoved into a hooker’s body and sent back to the cells.

Some of the former cops broke down crying in their new slutty bodies. Others looked strangely happy, already posing and touching their new tits. One kept screaming, “I’m a man! I’m the fucking police! This isn’t my pussy!” while being dragged away in handcuffs wearing nothing but a micro-skirt.

I sat behind the chief’s desk like a king, Terry’s former body now quietly sitting in the corner, obedient and broken, trying not to moan every time she shifted and felt her new pussy.

Back in the holding cell, Anthony (still in Danielle’s body) was getting harassed by the big tattooed woman when the door opened again.

More “hookers” were shoved inside — but something was very wrong. One of them was crying hysterically, clutching at her tits and screaming, “This isn’t my body! I’m Officer Morales! Someone help me!” Another was laughing maniacally and immediately started sucking on her own nipples. A third looked around with sharp, calculating eyes that didn’t belong to a street whore.

Anthony’s eyes narrowed. He recognized one of the new “hookers” as one of the cops who had groped him during the pat-down earlier.

“Something’s fucked up,” he muttered in Danielle’s husky voice, pushing the aggressive woman off him. “These aren’t normal hookers…”

He watched as more swapped women were tossed in, some fighting their new bodies, others already embracing them.

Anthony realized the truth with a chill: Carlos wasn’t just trying to get the stone anymore.

He was building an army.

To be continued in Chapter 9…