southern-god1:

the-craftsman:

The neighbourhood wasn’t one that Officer Jonathan Lloyd recognised as he traversed through the loud streets of suburban Dallas. He moved away from New York only weeks ago to get away from the city, but it seemed the south was all the more busy in its own way. 

He could see smoke rising from the backyard of a large picket white fence with a beautiful lawn; the quintessential American home. The summer sunlight that burst through the once grey clouds now created a sense of excitement and seemingly patriotism (though knowing Dallas, that never seemed to ebb away with the seasons), given the amount of backyard BBQ’s that every neighbourhood was flinging. 

This was just one of a long line of many that had the people shout a little too loudly, cheer a little too raucous, and celebrate a little too wildly, untamed and seemingly undomesticated. Officer Lloyd found himself now having to clear up the mess and ask the neighbour to quieten down as he stepped up to the porch and knocked on the door.

“What can I do for ya, officer?” The loud and booming voice of a large muscular man that even towered over Officer Lloyd, wearing tight fitting jeans that displayed his muscular thighs, the tight fitting flannel shirt that exposed some of his hairy broad chest. The large almost bearish form of a man with piercing eyes and a strapping dark beard wore a Stetson as he immediately looked up the officer up and down, keeping a hold of the cigar between his rough fingers.

“Good afternoon sir, we’ve just received some noise complaints and need you to quieten down,” said Officer Lloyd,  his voice significantly lower than the expected, as he tried to keep his eyes away from the prominent bulge in the man’s pants. He had seen the stereotypical “cowboy” types before, but this was taking the cake. Was it a costume party? The man simply clasped his hand on the officer’s shoulder, as he laughed.

“Oh sure thing, officer, sure thing,” started the man, it was now Officer Lloyd felt the urge to cough as smoke billowed in his face. He was about to say something but lost his train of thought as smoke seeped into him, making him feel relaxed and hazy. “Why don’t you come in and celebrate with us, you look a bit parched? After all, don’t you want a drink?”

Officer Lloyd’s throat suddenly felt dry, despite the fact he just had a drink on the way over. But it was a hot day and his shift was almost over. He shrugged. 

“Yeah sure, why not?” The man’s grin widened as he led Officer Lloyd down into the living room. Officer Lloyd blinked. He assumed he was going to be taken to the BBQ and shuffled uncomfortably. “Y’know, maybe I should just get going actually, I do have some work to do and…” The man gaze at Officer Lloyd. 

“I think you’re fine, if you stay here,” replied the man, and for some reason, Officer Lloyd stopped at the door, feeling an uneasy desire to stay where he was as he watched the man leave. What was going on? Why did he feel that way? He sniffed at the air at the hint of smoke, and started to worry as he heard the creak of the floorboards fading and then suddenly growing louder and louder, before the man stood in the doorway with a glass of whiskey in his hand. “Here you go.” He handed it to the officer.

“Thanks, really, but I don’t-” Officer Lloyd started. 

“It ain’t nice to refuse a gift from strangers. You should really drink it,” ordered the man, and Officer Lloyd felt his hand quivering as the glass slowly started rising to his lips. This was unnatural, whatever the man said he felt the need to do so.

“What are you-” The next words drowned in the burning brown sea of alcohol that scorched his suddenly dry throat before slowly he felt the liquid start to burn through his body as the final dregs were refusing to go down before the man slowly helped to tip the glass with his finger.

“That’s it…that’s it, come on, drink up,” the man’s voice was low and Officer Lloyd, despite having a girlfriend and never feeling this way before, couldn’t help but feel himself grow hard at the other man as cigar smoke was blown into his face. Officer Lloyd felt himself growing more relaxed, unable to think clearly. “Now you might want to sit down.” The southern accent became all the more noticeable as Officer Lloyd started to burn up before a sudden heat struck him to his core.

“What the fuck is-” Officer Lloyd started before he devolved into grunts and groans, watching his hands as they started to grow more tan and weatherbeaten, the fingers elongated and stretched out, curling and uncurling together against his own will as he felt his hands grow numb yet all the more sensitive at the same time like a hot and cold flash. 

He watched as the sleeves of his own shirt faded away, revealing the hunky mass of muscle that started to linger underneath as his arms started to grow considerably thicker and longer, stretching out like his own fingers. 

“I think it’ll be good if you flex now,” commanded the man and Officer Lloyd felt his own arms started flexing against his will immediately, as his own uniform started to devolve into a red mass. “Stop.” The arms fell limp, still quivering and pumping with muscle as Officer Lloyd quickly reached for his radio.

“I- I need backup!” cried Officer Lloyd into what he thought was his radio. But he simply watched as the radio was now enveloped in a dark red before it slowly started to sink into his uniform, along with the rest of his weapons and equipment that slowly disappeared into his own vest. “S-Stop! I feel…so good… Help…” Another puff of smoke was blown into the officer’s face as his shouts for help become guttural coughs and grunts as he started to feel his own torso change.

Abs began to slowly ripple from his already lean frame, slowly carving themselves out as they grew deeper and larger, first forming a light four pack before growing more from all the hard work that he remembered doing on his family’s farm over the summer and around the house as he could see his pectorals pushing forward, blonde hairs growing on his own chest which he flexed without even being ordered to.

“Why don’t you stretch your legs a bit?” Officer Lloyd slowly felt his legs spreading to reveal his bulge which started to grow larger and larger, almost on par with the man that gazed down at him in his armchair. He started to enjoy this, watching as his length spread down towards his thighs which slowly started to convulse causing him to fall to the floor.

“Feel so…strong, what is- oh god,” moaned the police officer, simply gazing down as he could see his rigid torso and feel his pants becoming denim, turning into tight and rough jeans that adorned his own thick thighs that grew larger in all their muscularity. He felt his own calves growing larger than they ever would being a police officer – but it was a good thing he wasn’t…was he? Officer Lloyd shook his head, trying to hold on to his memories as he could see that his boots were changing.

Where there was once a pair of dark boots holding size ten feet, suddenly grew to be thick large studded boots that looked to be a size fourteen and made sense as like his fingers, his toes crawled forward for the weather beaten soles that soon grew larger, lengthening and widening as they stretched more and more. 

Officer Lloyd watched the man slowly unzip his jeans, bringing them down to reveal he was commando and take Officer Lloyd’s large dick that sprang upright in his hands, watching as pre-cum was already dribbling after the first few strokes. 

With every stroke, Officer Lloyd felt closer to cumming, closer to realising his true self as a redneck – no, as an officer!

“Fuck…what is…” Officer Lloyd’s begging turned into moans as he couldn’t resist the sensitive touch of the man. With every stroke, he couldn’t help but feel himself change more, and only want more.

Stroke.

His stifled groans became deeper, his voice changing, as he felt his speech change.

“What is…happening to m-me y-y’all can’t b-be…” Surprised at the change of his voice as he felt himself devolve into moans again.

Stroke.

Officer Lloyd felt his own hair becoming a bright blonde, that styled upright.

Stroke.

His officer hat transformed into a dark cap turned backwards, covering his hair. 

Stroke.

His eyes became a deep green.

Stroke.

His mouth grew longer to form a cocky smirk.

Stroke. 

His nose grew shorter.

Stroke.

He felt it getting faster.

Stroke.

And faster

Stroke.

His forgot his work.

Stroke. 

He forgot his friends.

Stroke.

He forgot his name. 

Stroke.

“Come,” ordered the man as he jerked the cock off one last time and watched a fountain of cum rocket out of the throbbing and large glazed pink head. 

If there were noise complaints before, they would be nothing when Officer Lloyd moaned out loud, coming in as a police officer and leaving as John Willingham as he came again, and again, and again…and everything simply blurred together. 

After a while, it turned out there were actual noise complaints and who better to turn up than another cop, suddenly being commanded to “drink” and “come”, it turned out the fellow southern folk were real inviting, and as John got to know his new community better, they were always on the lookout for newer folks to join them. 

In fact, they think they’ve already found another one.

An excellent Southernization, complete with voice commands!
This is amazing, thank you very much.