The Gospel family, in course of their extended vacation, had left behind them a trail of sorts, but only if one noticed a rapid decline in the number of gays and lesbians in all of the places they visited. That this was eerily matched by a sudden uptick in the number of proud and openly heterosexuals in those same locales might've been an even bigger clue, but anyone who'd raise a fuss likely had already fallen victim to the 'were-breeder' curse.
Regardless, the next stop on their trip took them to a small town somewhere in the Southwest. They'd come to enjoy the sights, but what they saw here only caused them to see red. For all along the main street of the town were hanging rainbow banners and colorful letters that spelled out the words "PRIDE WEEK". The family seethed in anger as they pulled up to the hotel they'd booked a suite in and saw the huge sign welcoming people to the annual Pride Parade.
"This abomination cannot stand. Ah won't let it," said Nicholas Gospel almost as soon as they got into the suit. He stomped his heavy leather cowboy boots to emphasize his anger.
"I did see where they'd been rallyin', Pa," offered Sgt. Marcus Gospel, as he came out of his room where he'd stowed his rucksack.
"Good eye, son. Ah think ah'll give 'em a piece o' mah mind."
=====
At said rallying point, a large number of folks were gathered. Dressed in a veritable sea of colors, they seemed to be milling about, waiting for the day's events to finally begin. In the center of the rainbow mass of humanity was a thirty-something man wearing white t-shirt adorned with the words 'Gay & Proud" in purple glitter and purple skinny jeans with some ratty old sneakers. The lanky man had a megaphone which he was directing the gathered people to their places in the parade.
Of course, this meant he was easy enough to identitfy as the person to talk to once the Gospel men loudly and uncomfortably made their way through the colorful crowd. Their insults and overtly homophobic slurs didn't endear them to those around them. Seeing the hyper-hetero men, the organizer decided to try and avoid this situation getting more out of hand, and approached them.
"Excuse me, I'm Timothy Horn, and can I help you, folks?"
Nicholas merely frowned and looked down upon the offered hand from Tim, his eyes narrowed in obvious displeasure.
"Sodomite! I won't shake hands with one of your kind!"
Tim frowned now as well, pretty sure this was going to be one of those dead end discussions he'd had so many times over the years with these kinds of bigots. The quick glimpse of the pair's numerous crosses and other religious items confirmed that bias right away.
"Now, sir. I assure you that we mean you no trouble..."
"As if any of you panty-waist, limp-wristed homos could evah threaten a real man such as mahself. I jes' wanted to let you know that this whole 'parade' is an effront to the Lord..."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, but the world is moving ahead, regardlessly. It might be best for you and your son to just move along as well."
The obvious patriarch's next words just another string of insults, but so Tim just zoned them out. His gaze did notice that the younger man was pretty good looking, even if he was one of those homophobes. That he seemed to be a military man sparked a sudden flush of lust in the organizer, and sealed his fate. For the 'were-breeder' curse had been slowly attaching itself to nearly everyone in the gathered mass of gay people, via the insults hurled by the Gospel men at them.
Thankfully, these fools seemed finally seemed satisfied and began to leave the area, allowing Tim to get back to getting everyone ready for the parade. Of course, in a short time, the planned Pride march would become something much more conservative.
====
The first ripples of changes to the orientation of the crowd began to make themselves known. The various rainbow images began to bleed away, leaving behind brown, blue and black in their wake. Among the men, cutoff T-shirts and short-shorts quickly became proper dress shirts and slacks. Sneakers and sandals shifted into polished shoes and boots. The often masculine attire of the gathered women also changed, becoming dresses, skirts and blouses with heels and comfortable flats to match.
A bit oblivious to the transformations occurring around him, Tim had joined up with his assistant Ami. She was a lanky twenty-something lesbian who favored flannel, jeans and boots. Her hair was dyed a mix of blue and green, with no clue of its original color at all. The gay organizer surprised himself as a thought of how inappropriate such a look was for a young lady.
He wondered where such a notion came from even as the tight skinny jeans he wore began to grow darker, black consuming the purple. The material shifted from rough canvas to soft cotton with each step he took. The light steps became louder as his ratty old high-top sneakers twisted downward to become a shiny pair of black leather dress shoes, revealing a rising pair of dress socks in process. The spreading darkness of his attire reached his t-shirt, causing the glittery words on it to fall away into nothing. Short sleeves began to lengthen, sliding downwards and forming buttoned cuffs. A line of buttons appeared in the middle, just below the small collar that rose up with a band of white in the middle of it.
Meanwhile, Tim had been tryng to make sense of things in his head, as rush of new memories and feelings washed over him. He found himself questioning everything he'd believed in only a few moments ago. He tried to fight the rising hetero tide that was causing his gayness to recede, but the voice that spoke the truth in his mind was very, very persuasive. Over and over again, it said that homosexuality was a sin, and that he was no sinner! He swore he heard a hand slamming down hard with each repetition, like one of those preachers on Sunday mornings.
As his mind continued to be converted to a new way of thinking, the transforming of Tim's body continued unabated. Underneath the preacher's garb, his thin frame began to fill out, with muscles growing with each flex. His clothes were tight at first but soon loosened up. His hair, which had been mostly buzzed away, grew back in thick and dark. The bony features of his face filled themselves in, his chin becoming the epitome of a lantern jaw upon which a proper beard began to grow in. Pale skin gave way to the tan of a real man.
Other changes also made themselves apparent. His megaphone twisted and contorted in his thick hands, crunching down into a thick, gold-trimmed bible with a leather cover. The piercings that dominated his ears and brows seemed to liquefy and coalesce into a metal mass that then split into two. One of them slid across his face to become a pair of silver wire framed glasses that shielded his eyes, which shifted from dull blue to dark and vibrant green. The other portion moved around his neck, elongating into a chain that ended in a golden cross.
Now came the last moments of outspoken gay activist Timothy Horn as he gave way to the new man he'd become, the Reverend Thomas
Hawthorne, a crusader against the hedonistic lifestyles of the sodomites. He turned towards the woman standing at his side, his smile wide and white. A gold band began to creep around his right ring finger as he did so...
====
Ami had watched horrified as Tim had transformed into another person entirely. She'd wanted to run, but something kept her frozen in place. Her eyes saw that the others around them had likewise been changing. Her voice was choked in her throat, as she watched long-time partners of the same sex suddenly move away from one another and over to others of the opposite sex. She saw signs that only moments ago been promoting homosexuality twist themselves into ones that admonished such notions. Rainbow banners shredded into nothingness, or worse twisted into themselves into red, white and blue streamers.
But in her panic, she failed to notice that her own changes had begun. Her jeans had fused into a single tube of blue that shifted to grey as it crept up her legs, followed by sheer pantyhose that seemed to define their tone. Her beloved hiking boots warped and twisted themselves into a pair of grey leather pumps. Her flannel was giving way to a new form, as it became a starched white blouse with a wide collar. Underneath, her very modest bust began to press forward, the proud tits held back only by a very lacy bra. Her flat ass also got in on the growth, pushing against the grey skirt, while her boxers shifted into a lovely thong that nestled itself between the cheeks of the growing buttocks.
The green and blue in her hair started to be wicked away as her naturally auburn color returned with a vengeance. Her cheekbones shifted upwards, as her nose thinned out. Her lips plumped up, reddened by liptstick. With a few blinks, her eyeslashes grew out over aqua-marine eyes that had once been brown. Her numerous dangling earrings fused together to become a pair of hoops with a golden cross in their centers. Another cross popped into existence on the collar of her blouse.
As the physical changes progressed, Ami was being overwhelmed by the new hetero urges that battered her lesbian mindset. Her attraction to women dwindled to nothing, as that was counter to God's plans for mankind. She turned her head to look once more at the man next to her, her dark hair now styled into a proper and tall bouffant. She smiled with gleaming white teeth as a gold band that matched his curled around her ring finger. She felt pride and attraction well up in her breast as Emma Hawthrone, a proper preacher's wife came into full existence.
The two leaders of the 'Christian Pride' march turned to face the crowd of their supporters and friend, clasping their hands together. With a raised bible in his free hand, Reverand Hawthrone spoke loudly...
"Brothers and sisters, it is time for us to march against the evil that dwells hidden amongst us. We must shed the Lord's light on the shadows..."
With a cheer from the throng of now hyper-heterosexuals, the march began with the Reverand and his wife in front. Ahead of the moving mass, the various banners that had once heralded the Gay Pride parade were swept away, with numerous red, white and blue cockades springing forth to replace them.
=====
The Gospels had reunited in a small park near the town square, just in time to see the march going past. Nicholas and Corrinne , with proud smiles, joined the mass of like minded folks now that everything in this town was proper and appropriate. It did not take them long to link up with the Reverend and Emma, with whom they got on with like a house on fire.
And so grew the influence of the curse...