The person at the door was Maurice, member of the local LGBT community organization. The group had suddenly developed a pressing need for donations, as it seemed their message was no longer reaching as many people as it used to.
Maybe they should've gotten that billboard, pondered the gay man as he rang the bell. Still, this meant he got go door to door and engage folks directly for support. And so what if Maurice enjoyed a little of the hunky eyecandy along the way? No harm in oogling if there was no touching, right?
Unfortunately for him, the homosexual activist had chosen the wrong door to call at. He stood there, waiting for an answer. There were some bumps from beyond the wooden entry, along with curses. Maurice considered moving on but just then, the door swung open to reveal a very well built middle-aged man with no shirt and some hastily thrown on jeans.
"Good morning,sir! Would you like to..."
"No thanks, faggot! You interrupted mah time with mah fiance with yer pansy ass business!"
Maurice frowned at the unimaginative insults, wondering if his rainbow tee and tight green jeens had given him away. He was going to snarkily respond but paused for some reason.
"Now git outta here before I lose my temper, ya' fairy!"
With that the man slammed the door closed, leaving Maurice with his thoughts. As he walked down the hall, a sudden flush of lust washed over the activist, who had a secret fetish for the uptight straights offended by his open embrace of his sexuality. But now, that became the seal of his doom as the 'were-breeder' curse began to fully blossom...
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The first wave of change began with his muscles. The thin and wiry gay man was fit but not overly bulky. But now, his arms and legs were starting to swell with mass. His jeans couldn't contain the growth, splitting at the seams. His rainbow t-shirt also struggled against the surge of muscle, not helped when his pecs shot out as well.
Pained by this, Maurice leaned against the wall. His mind was feeling heavy all of a sudden, as a wave of hetero feeling poured over him. His worry about the muscle growth twisted into pride at his bulk. After all, he spent hours a day working on it, all to impress...the ladies?
Popping and cracking noises soon filled the air as his bones grew longer to accomodate his new mass. His spine straightened out, forcing to stand away from the wall, at his new height of 6' 2". His hands, dainty and well-kept, crunched and contorted themselve bigger and rougher. The bracelets he'd been wearing burst into nothing as his wrists and forearms thicken. The rings of his fingers coalesced into one and soon the logo of a local pro football team could been seen emerging next to the leagues, both just under a huge blue diamond..
Maurice began to walk again, not fully in control of himself. His gayness was under assault again, this time battling memories of high school football, followed by college and then his call up to the pros. All rememberance of being a male cheerleader disappear in this onslaught of masculinity. He stopped in front another door, one that was starting to become familiar to him.
As his beefy hand reached for rhe knob, the tattered remains of his clothes began to shift form. The rainbow faded away as his tee reformed into a tight fitting football jersey whose red, white and blue colors filled him with more pride. The green of his jeans bled away into dark blue as the ripped seams pulled back together, adding enough material to contain the tree trunks his legs were. Finally, his once favorite pair of hot pink crocs were twisted dyed into a pair of comfortable brown atheltic shoes from which clean white sock rose up.
Now the changes reached his head. His longish blonde hair with frosted tips darkened greatly before pulling back inwards into a nice and professional buzzcut. His delicate upturned nose flattened, having been broken at least once if not more. His tapered chin widened, as his neck thickened with cords of muscle that deepened his voice. His cheeks hardend, giving him a stony expression while a pair of thick eyebrows grew over his cold grey eyes. The door swung open and he stepped inside.
As he did, the last remnants of Maurice, gay activist gave way to the hyper-masculine and totally hetero Moe, pro football star. The new man grinned, reveals a small gap in an otherwise perfect smile. But somehow, the chipped tooth added to his over good looks, which he admired in the glass of his trophy case.
Behind the glass was a lifetime of accolades for his sport prowess, and that sight caused his pride to well up once more. Just then, his smartphone rang. He picked up off the kitchen counter.
"'ey, Moe 'ere."
His cocky grin widened as it was his number one babe calling about their date tonight. He licked his thick lips, anticpating the fun they'd been having later on...
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The curse was pleased, and started to turn its attention back to Marty and Jane. The fall of another queer had grown its power and now it could refocus on its original task...