Trying to fight off the new memories of the obviously Texan man being his father, Christian allowed the tiny twinge of lust he felt for Nick's old surfer bod to get past his defenses. That was all it took for the curse to begin his transformation into the right and proper son of Nicholas Gospel.
He almost cried as he felt the first pulse of the change course through his muscles, which began to swell with mass. His thin arms grew larger, longer and heavier, which was matched by his legs lengthening and thickening with a series of loud pops. His slacks were pulled tight and started to tear as his flat ass squared outwards with muscle, even as his small cock lunged forward with growth and girth. His torso wasn't spared either, as his spine pushed him up even taller until he stood about 6'2". His pectorals ballooned out, shredding his shirt in process while his abs popped into a six pack of chiseled perfection.
His now thick hands grabbed his head, trying to grab at his hair which pulled into a slick crew cut. His jaw jutted outward into a lantern-shaped, with a thin coating of hair forming a perfect five o'clock shadow, His teeth became glistening white, as his eyebrows grew dark and richly brown. There was a sound of tearing material that brought the changing Christian's attention to his once delicate feet, which had shot out through his cheap sneakers to become size 13's. The tufts of hair on them matched the dusting that was now growing all over his body.
His mind reeling from the physical transformation, Christian had no defense against his new persona as it marched with military precision out of his memory. With the commanding voice of a drill sergeant, his new self began to shout away the gay. After all, he'd joined the Army to try and live up to the example of manliness that his father had given him. Memories of basic training and those nights with the local ladies washed over his mind, pushing a weakening Christian into the depths as Sgt. Marcus Gospel, US Army asserted his very hetero self.
The tattered remains of the former Christian's clothes swirled to become appropriate attire for his new self. Dark green fatigues formed around him, pulled tight against his well-honed muscles. His broken sneakers become black leather boots that laced themselves up. On his forearms, tattoos pressed themselves outward. His left bore his unit's insignia while his right confirmed his strong Christian faith with a ornate black cross. Grease and oil appeared on his fingers, which he wiped on the towel he pulled from across his shoulder.
"Dad, it was an easy fix. Ah' don't know how ya' dinged up the underside of the limo so bad, but it'll work now."
"Great ta' hear, son. Let's go and see what Momma's got waitin' fer us fer dinner."
The two hyper-hetero males walked out of the country garage together, the curse once more binding them as father and son...
===
Meanwhile, in the house itself, Christian's mother, Karen, was having something of an identity crisis. Unbeknownst to her son, the real reason why his biological father had left was the discovery that his wife was, in fact, a lesbian and having an affair of her own. Hell, it had come a surprise to her, but she knew it was right and she didn't regret it. At least not until the last few days. It had started at the mall, when she'd taken Christian to get some new clothes. She'd bumped into a group of Latino gang members, who'd catcalled her and insulted her when she'd not responded to them.
After that, her memories got hazy. Karen knew she'd come home, but had fleeting recollection of being the wife of someone
named Nicholas and the mother of a son named Mark. But that woman had been so very religious, and so very straight. She shuddered as a memory of being in bed with a man bubbled up. She'd woken up alone, and had headed into the kitchen to make breakfast, but some noise from the garage had drawn her attention and more haziness in her recollections at the point. Had she been yelling at her slob of a husband to get a job? Was her son some sort of greaser?
Shaking her head, Karen poured herself a drink and tried to figure out what was going on. Maybe she should call her girlfriend (and occasional lover) Margret for advice and maybe a little something else too. That last thought sent a brief shudder of lust through her body, which triggered the "were-breeder" curse she'd gotten from the gangbanger Jose. It had transformed her twice now, and now it was ready to do it again. Thankfully, it didn't have reach far for a template as its other two victims in the garage had already become the Gospels and soon enough their matriarch would be joining them.
Karen had been dressed in her usual black sweatshirt and grey yoga pants, which now began changing to better reflect the woman she was to become. The pant legs fused together, and the combined tube crawled upwards to just above her knees, turning white in the process. The thick cotton of the sweatshirt was thinning, becoming porous as it changed into a soft red woolen sweater. Then a stiff cotton collar rose up and unfolded around her neck, revealing that a crisp white blouse had formed under the shifting top. The floppy slippers she'd been wearing had already hardened into leather, and soon heels began to push out from them.
Meanwhile, her body had begun its shift towards its new state as a proper Texas woman. Her modest bust swelled up a cup size, and soon was encased in a fine lacy bra. In response to her new life, her hips widened with a loud crack, allowing her growing ass to stretch her skirt to its limits. Her stomach lost its ever so slight paunch, tightening up as years of fitness training made themselves apparent. Smooth stockings now rolled up her legs, which lengthened and toned in response. A sudden adjustment to her posture born of many years of proper social training allowed her spine to stretch and increase her height, as well pop in a bit at the small of her back to complete her luscious curves.
Her mind starting to grow muddled with mixed memories of a life down south, Karen could only look as her hand became more delicate with longer nails and red polish. Her sandy blonde hair that had been pulled back with a scrunchy gained a lot of volume, and soon hung loose around her shoulders. It didn't remain there long, as unseen hands pulled it up into a semi-beehive of dark auburn perfection. Her face was suddenly flush as she felt the touch of makeup on it. The foundation seemed to smooth out her skin, as the blush raised her cheekbones and left her with dimples. Her lips plumped up as crimson spread across them, with her lashes curling above brown eyes turned blue. A perfect smile came to her mouth even as a gold band curled around her left ring finger, emblazoned with the name Gospel. There was a small pop as a golden cross appeared to pin itself on her blouse's collar. A string of pearls wound themselves around her neck, as a matching set of earrings dropped down.
Karen stood up, trying to reconcile her clashing memories. She wasn't married...or was she? A fleeting memory of being in bed with another woman came to her, but she resisted such thoughts. It wasn't proper for a faithful believer in His Word to even imagine such actions. That went against her faith and her life. She was the wife of Nicholas Gospel, and a pillar of Texas tradition. There was a final effort by her fleeting lesbianism to assert itself, but it was crushed under a tide of hyper-hetero and ultra-conservative feelings that washed over the newly formed Corrinne Gospel.
All around her, the kitchen had been busy transforming itself into one more appropriate for the life of a wealthy Texas family. The huge stove was topped with all of the traditional fixings for a country dinner. Corrinne grabbed her apron and her oven mitts to pull out the pie she'd been baking just as her loving husband and her son entered. Her heart welled with pride...
"Oh, seein' ya'll does make me the proudest mother that the great state of Texas evah produced. Now c'mon and enjoy the feast that the Lord has seen fit to bless the Gospels with..."