Smoked Cop

Marcus had just joined the force with aspirations, determined to make a name for himself. Young fit and gung ho, he'd passed training with flying colors, a gold star for the precinct. He knew it too. Of course, when he was told to stay away from certain parts of the city, he took it as a challenge. In his eyes it was a chance to get ahead showing everyone else up, proving that he knew better than them.

On his first day of solo duty, Marcus immediately went to check out the area he'd been warned about. He didn't understand why the officers hated this neighborhood so much. It was home to a few dive bars and alternate lifestyle venues, the surrounding homes having mixed income. Even then, the area seemed old and run-down, something you would never notice if you were in the area at night. The only thing that was confusing was the street and alley layout. It was organized like a maze, forcing him to pull up the GPS several times to find his way.

As he was finishing the loop, he recognized the smell of something sweet coming from between the buildings. He quickly worked on getting to the source, managing to get the patrol car down some tight turns before he spotted a large man sitting on a bench, smoking some huge roll. That had to be it.

Marcus was surprised the man stayed put as he parked and exited his vehicle, approaching the stranger. The bloke had to be at least 300 pounds, barely fitting on the seat he was spilling out the front of. They exhaled clouds like a smokestack, their body somehow foggy just like the clouds. Marcus only realized as he got closer it was body hair, a dense carpet sharing the same color as the billowing breaths the man took from the roll.

"Morning" The officer said bluntly.

The lumpkin looked up, barely raising their eyebrows.

Marcus could tell whatever the man was smoking didn't seem to be weed. It wasn't tobacco either. While it looked like a cigar, Marcus knew it had to be some form of illicit substance, the stranger's eyes empty, vacant. Marcus had approached from downwind, the smoke now heading directly into his face. He tried to wave it away, but something about the smell was making his head feel funny, giving him a strange semse as though the clouds were calling out to him.

"What you smoking there?"

The stranger silently pulled the cigar from their lips. They gave a blank stare as though they needed to take a moment to comprehend what was just said. Marcus had shivers looking at the man's empty eyes. Despite all his training, nothing could have prepared him to see the dumb clueless expression of an animal on a human's face, no light or sense of thought behind the gaze.

They looked back at the cigar for a moment before looking at the officer, offering the stoogie up.

Marcus found himself reaching out for the blunt, his two fingers shakily taking the rod. He should have blown it out, bagged it up and taken it in for inspection, but something was stopping him. Something about the smell enticing him, yearning for him. Marcus didn't realize standing in its drift for the few moments had already altered his mind, enthralling him with a relentless need for it. Without thinking he'd already placed the tip on his lips, taking a breath.

Marcus felt the smoke roll into his mouth, his cheeks relaxing the moment it touched their insides. A moment later his vision changed. He swayed, a wave of dizziness rushing through him before he was washed in complete euphoria. He quickly sat on the bench, trying to regain his composure. The hit was exhilarating, pumping through him with adrenaline, his suspicions that this was some sort of new drug confirmed.

Marcus found himself raising the cigar back to his face, unable to stop his hand, his emotions excited for more. As he drew breath a warm buzzing sensation began spreading across his skin, flowing down from his face following the smoke he exhaled. He watched it traverse down his body, fuzz appearing on his skin where it touched. In moments his surface was covered with a healthy layer of fur, accompanied by a beard that wrapped his chin.

The smoke began soaking into his uniform, its vapor held by the cloth pressed to his body. It almost seemed to affect his outfit, his clothes beginning to grow tighter and tighter around him. His body was swelling, absorbing the clouds, adding more and more pressure to the shirt until his chest split out of the zipper followed by a growing belly underneath. He felt like a soft heating pad, swelling with more and more fluid, losing his shape.

His sleeves could barely contain his arms now while his legs threatened to tear his pants. His ass grew wider in the seat, taking up more space while his middle section rounded out, loose and surrounding him. His wrists seemed to disappear, his arms now just tubes of flesh filled like sausages. By now his belly had completely grown exposed by his uniform, a globe starting right from the valley at the bottom of his chest. He looked like a teddy bear, large, plush and furry, sitting slack in his seat.

Marcus didn't know how long he sat there, but by the time he regained his senses he was at the end of his shift. He didn't have a choice but to grab another few smokes off his new friend, making sure to take some for the rest of the crew. He stumbled off back into his patrol car, barely fitting inside the cramped cabin with his stomach now pressing against the steering wheel.

He had little else to think about anymore, his mind perpetually fogged over only wanting to fill it with more smoke. He disappeared to the same spot every day to grab more rolls running out in just a day, his clothes and car now reeking of their smell. The fellow officers noticed Marcus's change in demeanor, but it wasn't long before their minds clouded over too, affected by the atmosphere Marcus now carried with him.