As the four of them headed into the oversized gay bar, with their marchers following in pursuit, they angrily pushed past the bouncers who were no match for their combined Christian strength-as the stoned face Behemoths got influenced by the curse and joined the heterosexual christian side along with the rest of them.
Before the intrusion, DJ Henry was having a blast, its pride time always in peacock lounge. Being a cool caucasian gay, spotting one of those modern spiky haircuts with shaved sides and hair remained on top-a gel upped silver faux hawk with silver grey eyes shining below in the disco light.
A pretty angular face, as he smirked over his prominent nose, silver piercings all over his left and right ears and even a piece of silver in his tongue. His body lean like a teenager’s, being a DJ prodigy until his current age which was 21-officially legal and has already mingled.
He wore a silver tank top, with his black DJ headphones in his head. His light blue jacket tied around his waist alongside a pair of black sweatpants cover over his toned legs. His size 10s skipped numerous beats, encased in silver sneakers as that’s his thing.
With his charm, he always struck a date every night, handsome fellows of every shade.
Of course, the curse could not tolerate that-and especially not the heterosexual Christians that came marching in shortly after-startling the gays and lesbians who were in mid-kiss or grinding and fondling one another.
“STOP YOUR SINFUL WAYS SODOMITES!” Nicholas bellowed, with his gorgeous wife starring angrily at the homosexual crowd clutching his muscular suited arm.
“WE ARE HERE TO STOP THIS PERVERTED ESTABLISHMENT!” The Reverend Thomas pointed at the DJ harshly, with his wife emma kissing him on the cheek, the “rebuke” was so loud that it even bypassed his very own headphones-catching the insult, Henry took off his headphones and starred at the angry group.
“Hah! Whatcha gonna do about it? Turn us straight?” The DJ mocked, not realising that is the exact thing the curse intends to do.
————-
Without noticing, Penelope stayed behind the backroom, preparing to dial 911 against the protestors. Hearing their remarks as she was careful not to try to fight a large homophobic army on her own.
Not even realising she herself has been infected by the curse.
She was one of the bodyguards, being butch, tall approximately 6ft, and had muscles underneath her suit alongside her almost-completely shaved head, with a large green mohawk proud and loud above. She too, had numerous piercings over her ears and tongue-similar to Henry’s.
The two of them were close being childhood bffs, but with the curse active, soon they are going to become lovers.
———
Henry watched as one by one, the gays moved over to their respective assigned lesbians. The men and women began kissing each other of the opposite sex, as their respective transformations began.
The men gained toughened bodies and increased in stature while the women grew shorter and more womanly. Its as though the twinks, bears and all shades of gay began absorbing the masculinity of the butches and even the ones that were girly to begin with-like they are stealing their attraction to women while the women in turn-stole the men’s effeminate behaviour and gained an attraction to men.
Similarly the anti gay crowd who dressed like fancy business couples, they too met a similar fate-but more western. As the Twinks and muscular gays’s bellies bulged out to a hefty father’s gut, the fatter ones became much more muscular and hunkier. Their skimpy shorts and sandals or sneakers gave way to conservative slacks and cowboy jeans as their heights raised up fine and dandy. Each of them having compulsory cowboy boots and hats as their facial features and top apparel turned into different shades of cowboy het with some wearing flannel, jean or just dress shirts.
Likewise, the women who were slender or buff already-grew large melons as their bellies expanded with some actually being pregnant somehow. The fatter ones in turn grew slender, petit and gorgeous. Some wore dresses and heels while others wore cowboy boots-jean skirts and flannel or dress shirt tops. They became sexier to their respective partners as the same was for the men.
Henry only could stare flabbergasted, as he noticed how passionate their new “God-like” love exhibited right in front of his eyes. A part of him wanted to flee instantly, while the growing part of him said its how God ordained it to be.
As he tried to speak, a southern roar came over him as he bellowed.
“YEEHAW! NOW THATS TRUE KINGDOM COUPLES!”
He felt incredible joy saying that, as his right hand formed a swirly gesture as though it were a lasso. The country side taking over him, as the massive lounge began shifting.
The roof raised higher and higher, as it grew red and bent over like a house instead of a flat ceiling. The various glitters and shine shifted to hay barrels and southern party equipment as the electronics at the DJ machine shifted to a simple push-play radio. Southern Retro music from the 19th century was played instead of modern trash pop. It grew to be a barn.
Outside-it extended the party as carparks turned into fields and fields like those in Texas, as the anti gay crowd put down their hate signs briefly and began dancing the rodeo with their respective partners, as drinks and refreshments showed up on new tables far and wide.
Henry hated to admit it, but he was digging the new look. It felt so right, it felt so Christian, it felt so southern, it felt so American. That is who he is and how God made him.
His belly grew bigger, but sinked down with muscle to a muscle gut. He had to resist despite his sugar making love with him...and not just love in the best southern kind of food way. His pectoral muscles alongside his gut-strained against the gay tee, as it began RIPPING to shreds as his body expanded, shoulders broadened apart with his back filled with rippling muscle.
Thanks to tons of farm work since he was a young’in. His biceps curled in southern pride as they filled up with strong sturdy muscle due to plowing fields and riding rodeos all day. His palms roughened up, gripping ropes and landing lassos all day. Smirking as his fingers stretched wider and bigger, complimenting his firm biceps.
He watched as his torso exploded with brown fur, his original hair colour before he tried to conceal it with silver. His arms matching in furry strips that accentuated his manliness. A tight puff of hair is seen in the middle of his pectorals, as a dusty treasure trial is seen going downward.
He wore simple briefs, barely cradling his long member as it strained more often than not. That is not how a man should treat his privates! Loosening up as the briefs gave way to silky briefs, with his long member shrinking slightly but expanding in girth like a beer can. An explosion of hair tucked beneath, his sugar loved that about em, made em feel manly.
His Butt PRESSED against his sweats, as it revealed an almost-squarish shape to them. Being a hard-assed conservative, alongside that cocky-southern muscular traps that separated his shoulders far and wide.
His own torn down shirt grappled onto him, as the sleeves melted into oblivion, as the remaining material turned a dirty white, exposing the growing cowboy’s thick bod more and more as it showed a nice healthy caucasian farm tan that ran in the family.
His legs stood far apart, wiggling as those dancer legs STRETCHED out all the way till his very own feet PUSHED OUT those size 12s as they POPPED out larger toes and feet, socks already ripped from their rainbow past. Hair Brussels etched onto his legs and his feet, sweatpants harshly on them, showing off ripples in their thighs as the curse takes hold more.
The rainbow the socks used to be part off turned grey-like his stance on homosexuality. His dick throbbed, and throbbed, as more thoughts of bashing fags and running his mouth against em always ran in the family-and he intends to keep it that way!
His worn down sneakers resealed up, turning brown leather in the process as they grew high and encasing his sweats-ending off with a metallic star attached it its side as they shifted to brown leather cowboy beats-fit for stomping fags and running the rodeo!
His sweats shifted to dark blue denim, as the bit that was tuck under the leather boots rose up and then covered the boots instead, rolled up at the bottom nicely as patches formed all over his new work attire-turning into thick dark blue work jeans passed down from generation to generation.
His jacket surrounding his waist ended up constricting and sliding through the belt loops of the new cowboy’s jeans, turning uniform and brown leather, as the connected to the front with a large texas belt buckle with the worlds WW CHAMP. Being a wrestler himself back in his days and winning as well as bringing glory to Christ and his family.
His face was the final one that took hold, as he smiled dumbly-his poster boy cut grew long and shifted back to brown, shoulder length as like Samson-his hair was part of his strength.
His angular faced grew into a cleft as well, like he was the superhero of his day and age. He blew a hefty “YEEHAW!” Which revealed his pearly straight whites, just below his broadened nose. His piercings danced and hooked on various areas as his ears sealed up, one looped around his wrist as they formed a gold texas watch-the other onto his fatty ring finger-as it looped into a silver ring.
He stuck out his tongue, as the silver stud fell with his tongue sealed back and southern, only able to speak American as his vocal chords and bulge below his jaw grew big. All deep but high and mighty as the stud grew into a silver chain attached to a cross around his neck-his faith being a primary, especially since he didn’t finish high school.
“DUNNID TO LEARN AT THOSE FANCY PANTS EDUMACATON!” He thought, as his dumb grin widened, as stubble grew-as it rose into a full on perfect beard around his lips, the stache prominent as he licked his lips on what he learned in his (new) life, how to be a cowboy, how to be a man, how to raise the barn and his family, how to be a man, how to study the bible and teach his children his way, AND HOW TO BE A MAN!
With that final thought, as a boomerang flew at the cowboy-he caught it, materialising it into a hefty large brown cowboy hat. Putting on his head and revealing a true southern smirk as his new green eyes glistened into experience. Walking down over to the Reverend and his Wife, alongside his colleague-Nicholas and his wife, and gave them a huge texas welcome.
“WELCOME TO PRESBYTERIAN FARM!”
Pastor Hilton Brussels, or more known as Hillbilly Brawn back in his day, took control of the rodeo. He loved doing what he did, bringing men and women closer to God and abolishing the sinful nature of those gay sinners that try to pervert his country’s beliefs.
“Ah give it to ya Hilton, you and ya church knows how to make a fantastic Western showdown!” Reverend Thomas spoke, patting the hunky cowboy on his back.
“Y’all flatter me ta much, it was all mah wife’s idea! HAHA!” Pastor Hilton laughed, patting the strong firm pastor right back.
“By tha way, where’d she?” Nicholas spoke.
“SHE’S RIGHTA AROUND THE CORNER!”
—————
It won’t be long till the Bodyguard Penelope to no longer be capable of defending herself as the hetero were breeders came walking towards the door of the store room which began elevating, renovating, growing numerous rooms and heights as it became a separate facility to accommodate family living. Barely blocking the door, she ended up facing the family kitchen, which looked clean and new as a whistle.
She wondered where did she leave the plate of cookies she baked for the specials?
That thought shook her, as she watched as her flat chest expanded right in front of her, growing round and devoid of muscle as they formed huge lumps of fat, with nipples erect. Her big boobs pushed aside her binders, as well as her man-suit as they revealed her femininity to herself.
She loved how her husband milked her jugs!
“AH!” She winced, at that thought, feeling weaker and weaker, needing to be protected instead of the one protecting. As her muscle mass dwindled massively, leaving only a bit due to her southern genetics and all as fat took over, growing over her chest, her arms, and her legs as they BURSTED and BROKE! The suit concealing her skin.
“Ah gotta be conservative but not at a farm” She thought, as her liberal roots became uprooted and replaced with conservatism and southern charm.
Her binders reformed into a hefty white bra, massaging her nipples as her back, while it did get wider, became encased by her new pinkish top that was her shrunken dress shirt, devoid of buttons as mini sleeves formed over her left and right.
The outer layer of the suit faded into the sunset, as it now revealed her fat tummy which eventually tighten somewhat into an hour glass shape. She was in pageants when she was younger after all, as her belly button exposed to the world to see-her tanned skin shifting to a pure caucasian white, mostly letting the men do all the work for her.
She felt more relieved, as her neck tie shifted to a pendant which was passed down by her ancestors as well. Feeling like they are watching down at heaven and proud to see how far her gal came in her life.
Her fingers, much fatter but smaller overall, touched her slacks with a royal decree, causing the tightness to shrink upward and revealing her legs. Stopping at knee length as they ripped apart and encased her formal shoes, wrapping her much smaller feet as they became matching brown boots to her husband.
“Ah have a Husband?”
She questioned in shock, part of her old butch nature hating that, and part of relief at the new southern mama she’s becoming. She needed someone to take care of her, ad the knowledge of the man of her dreams came into her vision-which was the newly formed cowboy outside.
Her pussy dripped wet, as the straight cum melted the men’s boxers she decided to wear as they reshaped to a white fluffy blouse. The belt buckle at her front turned brown with the buckle WW Champ, but instead of World Wrestling, its World Wife, personally made by her big muscles.
“Ah have a husband~!” She spoke dreamily, as any hairs on her legs-pubic or even chest shaved off clean instantly-she maintained it well since young and kept going at it to be the perfect wife. As her voice pitch rose high as her accent turned southern-her last bits took over.
Her green mohawk turned back into her natural blonde, as the shaved and cut parts grew back long, curly and wide as they were even longer than her husband’s-which she found acceptable as he was a cowboy and her big muscles. Her cheeks plumped up as freckles began to form, her father being a redhead marrying her blonde southern mom. The numerous piercings off her ears fell off as her ears sealed off and shrunk, forming a proud silver cross necklace, and various of other kinds of bracelets as they represented her christian faith-surprising wealth and her love for her husband, with the piercing on her tongue falling off and looping around her slender-but somewhat fatty fingers. Uniting the two.
Bombarded was memories of her and her husband, licking her lips as bright lipstick formed upon them-with her chin rounder than ever. Her nose became cute and round as her eyebrows thinned out, blush applied to her already rosy cheeks.
She cannot stand being apart from her big muscles, as a pair of oven gloves materialised on her hands, her phone turning into the plate of cookies she was once desperately searching for-they had no reception being out in the country anyway! Her long eyelashes blinked, revealing bright blue eyes that stared newly into the world like she’s ready to take over.
With that Mrs Petunia Brussels pushed opened the door, carrying a plate of warm baked cookies fresh from the oven.
“HEY BIG MUSCLES! MISSED ME?” She spoke, as she placed the cookies down at the special guests table. She wanted to save her best recipe for last, especially for her husband’s colleagues, especially the reverend and Gospel Businessman. She admired them for supporting her and her husband’s ministry.
“SURE AH DID SUGAR!” He wrapped his big burly arms around her, as they both gave a big southern kiss. They were fit for one another, just as men is for women.
The six of them continued the party all night, as the ex-DJ, now reverend, blasting his wired microphone loud through the night-spouting his joys of christianity and homophobic speeches across the state.