When I found out that my new neighbor was a cop…well, let’s just say I knew I had found my next target. He was a handsome fella, tall, with a shaved head and horseshoe stache, twice divorced, hated faggots, a real man’s man, or at least, he was. I had a feeling he’d be having a change of heart soon enough.
I got to know him, and befriended him easily enough. Me, the salt and pepper daddy, disarming charm, strong handshake and intriguing stare. I took a few weeks to get to know him, delve a bit, see how…amenable he was going to be. His apartment was always a bit of a mess–aside from one thing. He always took exceptional care of his uniforms–he respected them more than he respected himself, in fact.
The first time I took him under, with the help of a sedative I slipped into his beer, I just let him sleep, relaxed, while I went in and tried his uniform on. I was a bit bigger than him, but I could make it work–and I was so hard, thinking about my plans, that it was very hard resisting the urge to blow my load right in the crotch, and leave it there for him to find later. I did keep wearing it while I took him deeper, telling him how handsome I looked in his uniform, how manly it made me. How every man in a uniform deserved his respect, and his complete obedience.
Next, I started breaking him down. He was a slob. He was weak. He found himself starting to look at gay porn on the internet, these cop videos, and he’d…crave them, being stripped of his uniform and forced to service his fellow men in blue, knowing that he didn’t really deserve to wear the uniform at all, deep in his heart, because he was beginning to suspect that he might just be a faggot. After all, what real man would let a woman leave him twice? He’d never been able to perform, never been able to control them…because he was the one who should have been controlled the entire time.
I haven’t had him service me while he’s awake yet, but we’re close. Every day, I come over and put him under, I get into his uniform, and make him service me in his grungy, filthy, cum-coated underwear. He’s started to put on weight recently–not something I told him to do, but it makes him look even more worthless, so I’m encouraging it, that as he wrecks his body, he’s going to look less and less like the real man he always though he was, and more and more like the cum hungry faggot he’s going to be from now on.
He’s probably going to quit the force soon. He’ll lose too much of his nerve, he won’t be able to see himself as one of the officers surrounding him…but I know he won’t lose his appreciation for the uniform. After all, he’ll believe he lives next door to a handsome, rough daddy cop–one who loves having the fat faggot from next door over to worship and service him, cleaning his boots everyday, and going back home with a load of cum in his ass every night. Eventually, I’ll wipe out all trace from his memory that he had ever even been a cop, and I’ll help him find a history more…fitting for a worthless faggot like him…but that’s for the future. For now, I’m just enjoying my faggot cop’s lips around my cock, and looking forward to all the fun we’re going to have.