As the cop and robber chase continues on, the hollered and hooted their newfound sexuality to the world-passing by other homosexuals as they slowly shift to the heterosexual community.
Some of them even becoming fellow cops and robbers themselves, some of them becoming brand new heterosexual men hooting after busty girls or vice versa, some of them turning into other types of stereotypes according to what they were aroused last before the curse hits.
Two of these victims are Benny and Jay, the married caucasian twink couple.
“You should like, totally behave more like one of those black rappers in the hood! They’re like so lean and muscular~ Bouncy and beat boxing like they don’t give a shit~!” Jay sassed his hun.
“Well like, you should totally behave more like those strict authoritarian asian men in high positions that act all formal while looking and exploding in fury like hulks!” Benny sassed back.
The two of them fought like married couple, cause they are a married couple. Joined together in a gay union last year and still kicking it despite the temptation to chase after other men.
High libido, their members pressed highly against their colourful green shorts, completely smoothe slender caucasian legs encased in a pair of loafers. Slender arms and petite body encased their long sleeved garments.
Jay wearing a dark blue hoodie, long brunette hair flowing down his sides by his girly but expensive diamond earrings and cute button down nose and cheery green eyes.
Benny wearing a button down white shirt, blonde hair all gelled up to a spiky while messy combover, slightly angular jaw with a pointed nose. A pair of framed light blue hipster glasses complimenting his bright blue eyes.
Perfect hosts for the curse, as the gay radar from Officer Rodd and Erik the stoner caused the two of them to turn direction, running toward the soon to be hosts of the homophobic curse.
“You mean your sick kink from Asia?I mean who the heck wants that hun?”
“Becareful now, Black guys gonna beat you up for making fun of their hood!”
The two of them sassed each other out for their respective kinks. Being husbands for a year, they don’t really give a shit after their honeymoon phase. The twinks desperately need a top, and their partners aint doing it so they be sassing it.
“But at least we can agree that they gotta be dominant tops! EHEHEHEHEHEHE-!”
“OUTTA MY WAY FAGS!”
A quick dash of wind, as the stoner pushed past them, hitting Jay’s arm and causing the twink to whine in shame.
“NO FAGGATORY BEHAVIOR IN PUBLIC GAYS!”
Another quick dash of wind, as the officer ran after the stoner, but not without a quick glare at the twinks-especially at Benson for some reason.
“UGH! My arm-it hurts! How rude straight men are these days!”
“Like yeah! Cops should be like looking out for the minority and not bashing on us UGH!”
“They’re totally hot tho!”
“I KNO RITE!”
The tents rise almost instantly-ironically less than a second when the curse latched onto each of them. As the two of them slowly got up-
The fun begins.
———————————————-
“Which part of them did you like the most?” Benny Bone placed his hands at his hips, his tent arising massively, not long until he falls into the curse.
Jay Lane stared at husband, meditating on the question. Normally he would instantly respond back with a sass, but for some reason-he couldn’t answer! As he pondered, using up his brain energy for it.
“I uh....” His voice slowed down, almost sounding dumber than what he usually did as a fairy boy. His eyes dimmed, as he scratched his long hair-not even noticing the strands dropping on the floor underneath him.
“Uh...Uh...” He tried to force his mental energy to think, scratching more furiously each time one of his brain cells POP! Strands of hair now being speedily buzzed off his hair as though it were a barber shop, trailing behind him as they become scattered amongst the pavement.
Jay backed against the concentrate wall next to an alley, steps moving with some gist and style as though he were a natural dancer. Rubbing down the final spikes on his head as they retracted and recolored his entire new buzzcut from light brown to black.
Jay could feel the confines of his hoodie tighten around him, feeling overwhelmingly hot as he felt the hood at the back SHRED apart and LEAPED! Onto his head. Material solidifying as it forms itself a nifty black snapback with the words FUCK FAGS! in exaggerated bold-golden letters.
“Fuck Fags?...Yeah! FUCK FAGS!” Jay smiled at the vulgar words coming out of his own mouth, loving when rappers do that. Loving their mannerisms more than he loved his sexuality.
The curse relished on that, looks like lust can really break down a persons will to remain gay after all. Especially if they’ve been dumbed down to a huge extreme.
The ends of his sleeves close to arms shredded apart from his ex-hoodie, wrapping around his rougher-more calloused fingers as a rubbery, black material. Barely missing his diamond ring and it struggled to stay on the growing heterosexual.
Fingers elongated, younger and fresher as his bones throughout his entire body raised his height from a young university graduate in his early 20s to a college drop-out 19. Experience gathering with some bandages wrapping around his right index middle finger and left thumb, he clenched his fists as black leather gloves done his new larger manly hands.
His new body beamed with virile but vile energy, intended for causing mischief as his ex-loafers SNAPPED! And broke Out of the weight of the new dancer, legs bending and bouncing as they could not sit still-watching em tone up as every IQ the Gay Twink ever had went down to his bod.
The next phase hits, Jay could not help himself but FLEX! , the once delicate arms underwent swelling and masculinization into lean teenage muscle with lady killing biceps, not overly buff but flexible for a hip hop dancer, and muscular enough to give an incredible RIP at the armpits.
Gone Away the sleeves of the faded hoodie, crawling down his longer toned legs with bristles of hair on the surface. Touching briefly the destroyed loafers as they shifted into size 12 basketball shoes from his former size 8 feet.
The ex sleeves covered up the rest of his exposed legs, matching up with his barely-fitting shorts. Material taking on a grayer hue as the shorts take on the softer-yet baggier material of those sleeves, as the two strings attached to his former hoodie drop down to his crotch area-sealing it up and tightening it into a pair of stretchable sweat pants.
He thrusted his groin forward, back and forth as it grew longer while already erect, as though he was having sex with the air. Buttocks plumping out from behind, babes love rubbing them cheeks and-
His BACK! Damn all those basketball shoots with MAH BOIS really did the trick. As it grow firm and lean, matching his frame as the remaining fabric of the hoodie simplified into simple sleeveless cotton.
Hugging his breasts as the fat droplets escaped from them-expanding with every breath as protein developed his huge pecs. With a black basketball tee with the numbers 69 in bold-white dressed on his hunky frame.
He lifted up his new basketball tank top-rubbing through his smooth stomach as he could feel little lumps, a total of six of then, rising in his core. Rubbing it harder like a magic lamp, polishing those cores as they refine themselves into six golden nuggets of his newfound six pack.
“Mr Lim! I am talking to you.”
He briefly snapped out of his dumb trance, starring at the man in front of him. Who is he? Haha? And Mr Lim? Sounds like his last name L...im, Oh wait it is his last name hahaha.
He felt the sun pouring down on his skin, hot as ever-like him haha. His mutated asian genes relished with every dumb oriental chuckle, shifting from caucasian white to a crusty yellowish tan for a man.
“I dunno man... haha!” He spoke dumbly, chuckled with stupidity despite his origins. A hint of an oriental accent sufficing mixed with American pride.
“What were we even talkin’ about bro?”
Benny looked at Jay, knowing something was...different, but he himself got struck with the same feelings as well. What was he even thinking? Thinking about those guys like that? And besides, he was married wasn’t he?
As the feelings of martial love remained in him, the curse took longer than his spouse as it got delayed with the requirement of “his spouse” to disappear into the new manly rapper so that there would be no hard feelings.
As he glanced over to his spouse-Pangs of rage hit on him, how can a man be his spouse?! He’s a police officer for goodness sake! What would Becky think of him?!
He straightened up his posture, as the curse sets on a faraway lesbian to turn into his soon to be wife. He clenched his fists, as the diamond ring sparkled and upgraded itself to a traditional rare-exclusive black diamond to represent his new-upgrade in class.
As the sun pours down his skin, directly under the sunlight, his caucasian white melted like snow, revealing a crusty black skin tone that was hidden beneath his outer shell. Pitch black. That’s what Becky liked, if you’re black-go all the way.
STOMPING! His feet, as his loafers BURST open like a cascade of flowers, revealing his size 16 humungous feet and toes as they almost instantly became covered up, the boutique withering back into a pair of black duty shoes with multiple laces, made for running.
His thin legs jiggle at the thought of running, unfit for combat-and that thought disgusted them. The curse manifested and loaded his genes with heritage of muscle passed down from his family lineage-fellow cops and ex-thugs from many generations.
A faint trace of muscle lined up his skinny black legs, as his calves started to inflate, and so did his thighs. As fat plastered and mixed with the growing muscle, they proudly and pridefully stood by as powerful black muscular trunks standing fit for duty.
Foreign thoughts of marriage with a blurry female figure, in which he figured to be becky, and then tackling while respecting on her on bed just hours after the marriage. His High libido increased, member pressed highly against his colourful green shorts as wisps of hair exploded into a black bush, concealing his hard member laced in expensive silky boxers.
His green shorts can barely stand the heterosexuality, as they BURST open, button flying out and hitting the rapper on the neck, as an Adam’s apple swelled as a result of that impact.
Whilst the changes below, clenched fists echoed with blackness, and roughness. Palms becoming sweaty due to consistent duty, feeling years of experiences and chases , fingers elongating with every rank he moves up.
The Blackening man posed briefly, watching his noodle arms swell up massively as thick and huge as a bodybuilder’s before balancing out with fat-causing them to look huger and thicker than usual men, but perfect and burly for an African-heritage man such as himself.
Benny’s button down white shirt, EXPLODED! Automatically breaking apart before the physical transformation taking place as though the curse knew what is going yo be illustrated. Buttons flying in every corner as it hit the thug in front of him like a cartoon, HIT HIT HIT HIT! As they all fell into the tipping jar, into dimes and nickels, rising up his tips.
His back shredded delightedly, preparing itself for the upcoming muscle growth from his-
SWELLING BACK! FIRM RISING TO 6FT 5, PECS BALLOONING WITH BLACK NIPPLES FULLY ERECT! ABS APPEARING BRIEFLY BEFORE SEALED UP UNDER A LAYER OF FAT-MUSCLE GUT FOR A CHIEF LIKE HIMSELF-
“Whoa....Chief....!” Jay randomly spouted, as though on cue as the curse encouraged the upcoming metamorphosis-swelling Benny’s pride further, and further, and—
“HMPH!” The Chief pushed his chest forward, almost on cue, commanding the ripped apart threads and broken shorts to reform onto his hulking authoritative figure. Almost as though to show off to the asian that African Heritage, is more dominant than asian heritage.
The ripped apart button down pressed onto his bare chest, reforming and accentuating his new figure as the material shifted into a dark blue-soaking up the sweat glistening on the man’s skin.
His shredded sleeves rolled up, shortening-rising up to express his humungous biceps. As a police insignia labelled on the sides, his shoulders rested, broadening wide and apart as they can sense the duty and appreciation coming to him as a chief.
His broken button down cuddled into a tight fitting police uniform. The back sealed up-the collars donning an array of stars, new buttons materializing alongside breast pockets that get PUSHED firmly out thanks to his breasts.
His bright green shorts lusted over the clean cut navy blue uniform above, curse manifesting onto it- as they lose their cheer, sweat and stoic heterosexuality melting the material into a fellow dark blue.
Drape down, wrap around his strong calves and over his white socks which were previous a gay rainbow. A new shiny gold button popping over his pressed-out groin, into police officer pants fitting for a king.
His rainbow belt that he carefully hid under his ex-un tucked button down cannot withstand the het, straight transformation. As his buttocks plumped out while firm, exercising while managing tons of paperwork every night, the belt turned black, filled with pockets and utility as gun holder appeared on the right, a huge walkie talkie on the left-ringing loudly and annoyingly before the black man simply raised his left calloused palm, tracing his finger onto the pause button and-
CLICK!
“Carry on Mr Lim, Chief’s orders.”
Jay’s face contorted, a bit of rebellion and wanting to run away from that copper.Yet a form of respect his him, especially since that copper was black.
He must understand the thug-life!
No logic to that in his dumbing down mind, with hinges of lust of his former self to blacks fueling into that respect. His grin widened like an alley cat, as his jawline sharped, with a little goatee at the end of his chin.
His eyes dulled with his new heritage and lack of IQ, epicanthic folds widening and thinning his new dark-brownish black eyes. His thin trimmed salon eyebrows became bushy and untrimmed as though he never went to a beauty parlor in his new life.
His nose broadened, as it SNAPPED! And broke, as a bandage layers over his new angular nose-coming from thug fights in the hood. Men gotta stand for what is right!
His earlobes wobbled, as they grew bigger as they got accustomed to listening to sick beats from his Dawgs. Diamond earrings detaching themselves from his ears, as the remaining material solidifies into black studs to represent his manliness.
As the diamonds fell, the pair fell onto the middle of his pec cleavage briefly. Two pairs of strings stretched and looped around the back of his neck, one a cheaper-gold-spray painted material while the other a silver.
Directly hanging from his neck, the diamonds fell downwards to around the center of his crusty abs, supported by the new strings attached to it. One became gold plated and hung the words J-DAWG in bold gold letters while the other split into two, donning bright shiny silver as they became a pair of dog tags with his new asian-origin name.
His grabbed a hold of his iPhone, as it shifted into a karaoke mic that was “borrowed”. Memories of being raised in the hood, playing basketball with the blacks and white trash. Course He was one of em’! As he lifted the mic, his head facing into the sky as he uttered out.
“Bashing em’ faggots
Mashing em’ maggots”
Jay Lane spoke in a monotonous, yet catchy beat, much clearer than his former gay lisp. Deeper and more oriental, yet heavily influenced by black American culture.
Non existent speakers formed into existence as his wallet fell mid-air as a result of his exaggerated-yet manly gestures of hip hop that complimented his long firm legs, fit for dancing if only he didn’t drop out of school.
He was a City-boy? He was in the hood! Realization hit the man, as spray paint vandalized the brick wall behind him. With a skull sign, vulgar words, and JAYDEN ROCKS behind him.
Jayden Lim, the asian rapper in the hood, stood in his place in the streets. Proud to protest against homosexuality with his rap music in the streets, with bonus points to show off his Hetero pride to sexy ladies passing by.
Earning pretty much a living with his budding career as a teenage rapper. He boisterously continued his rap like he always did, as his former diamond ring drops into the tip jar-turning into mere pennies equivalent to how much the new Jayden cared about marriage.
With that, Jay Lane was aroused out of existence, gone was any trace or connection with the transforming black man in front of him and that’s how the curse likes it.
With the heavy burden of ex-homosexuality and martial romance gone, Jayden Lim continued his rapping monologue.
“Aint no rapper got time to be gay!
Aint no copper gonna rub and stay!”
Benny Bone groaned as soon as he heard the rapper mention “rub and stay” incredibly aroused by his new heterosexual thoughts alongside his huge ass muscles and black skin tone.
His neck thickened and GULPED! A large bump, bringing out a deep baritone and loudness that came with the package-with maturity and class that came with education and prestige.
His blonde hair shaved forward, all that gelled spiky messy gay combover, flatted and retreated back. Hue shifting to a dark brown as a ceaser’s cut appropriate for his masculine visage.
His jaw pushed out into a lantern jaw, aftershave decorating upper-lip and lower-lip, surrounding his lips as they plumped out in sync. His angular nose Broadened and filled up, pushing aside his hipster glasses as they fell and barely clung onto his left pocket-as it almost instantly shifted into a shiny prestige police badge, engraved with the police department symbol, with the words “CHIEF BURLINGTON” engraved as though it were a special limited edition-a gift for his years of service.
With that being said, a police hat popped over his head, tipping down slightly and covering his forehead and eyes swirling to the rapping beat. Grey follicles appearing alongside wrinkles over his forehead. He was in the police department for over forty years, signed in as a rookie the first moment he could.
It was his duty to protect his country-even at the age of fifty seven. It was his duty to raise fresh born African American kids eloquent while tough, and he’s not done yet-especially since his wife despite being around his age-looks like she’s only in her late twenties. His eyes swirled a chocolate brown, noting that he should get another kid as his new breeder urges jailed away his old homosexuality.
Chief Benson Burlington, the eloquent yet domineering officer, glared intimidatingly into existence. Picking up his walkie talkie, and giving the asian rapper, his fellow homophobe and anti-gay man, a thumbs up.
“No fag in sight, Officer Rodd”
The rapper raising up his right hand, smiling dumbly and saluting the Chief, he didn’t know much but he knew respect, and a respect for authority who looked out for guys like him and in the hood and keeping out fags from the neighborhood.
As the rapper continued his hate speech, Chief Burlington prowled around like a predator, as his marched down the sidewalk with his feet, focused on the task of finding Erik the drug dealer whose rumored to “possibly be a fag” according to Officer Rodd.