SLAP!
“AH!”
“HAHA TAKE THAT FUCKER!”
The impact hit Darrel’s ass so hard, it left a hand mark that sizzled beyond his suit pants. Flinching due to the pain, he grabbed hold of the area and winced at the sight of the tall asian male behind him. Really tall...over 6ft.
Sneering cockily, diluted eyes behind those prescription frames. Dressed so casually with typical teenage men’s accessories, a snap back, jeans, sneakers, and a anime-styled, MOBA kind of T-shirt that nerdy gamers wear, but it hugged his lean-muscular frame so well as it accentuated his pecs and even his abs, like it was all wet.
The man placed his fingers onto his right shoulder, the warmth transmitting from straight to gay, Darrel tented at the fact he was being touched by a taller-and much manlier individual, though he hated to admit it, he wanted those firm and solid gamer fingers to just play him hard-!
Of course, Bowen did not verbally insult any homophobic slur at him yet...until NOW!
“Fucking faggot just got SCHOOLED!” Bowen flipped off the movie-star with both hands, sticking out his tongue childishly before giving the movie star another tight-
SLAP!
EEP!
Reacting uncomfortably, barely standing his ground as he glared back at the bully who only sneered back at the beta male. Wincing at the pain and appalled the fact that he got attracted to a straight homophobe, and a bully in fact. If the press hears this, he would really get SCHOOLED.
“Hey Brute! Escort me to my limo!”
A bitchy voice emerged from the door, a female clone of the current Darrel appeared as invisible grand stage mist blew out. She spoke with authority as Bowen-
“Right this way...” He smirked, speaking with sarcasm as he SPANKED! With a taunting “Princess! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Trailing behind her was a band of asians, who looked similar in size and stature like cocky jocks who were addicted video games. The only one that stood out somewhat was the tallest guy in front who did not wear any form of eyewear.
“You brute! My father and I will sue-!”
“HAHAHA! TELL THAT TO THE JUDGE YOUR HIGHNESS!”
The bitch blushed, as she pouted defiantly and got into the limo. Bowen following her, swaggering with every step as the curse made sure to give the soon to be ex-star a full body examination of his back, his mannerisms and especially those prominent buttocks straining against his jeans.
With that, the curse rooted into his body as Bowen got in. Still in a trance with the sway of the delinquent’s, the curse took advantage of this and-
“WHOOP YA ASSES ONLINE LATER FAGGOTS!”
Bowen gave the middle finger
to his gang, before eyes locked with the newest victim of the curse as he pulled out his other hand and flipped off that said victim once again as the victim was mesmerized by the middle fingers. Going off with his girlfriend in her prestigious limo and suited up chauffeur with a gold rimmed monocle.
....
....
....
The middle fingers twisted alongside the rest of his fingers into a-
SNAP!
Wait! That was his limo! And that was his chauffeur home! He had to say something, he had to-
“OI FAGGOT! COME BACK HERE AND ONE V ONE MY SCRUB! IMA WHOOP YOUR-!!!!!”
Darrel gasped, closing his mouth with both of his hands as he instantly tented by his brashness. His soul actually found it kind of good as it throbbed and throbbed, pumping testosterone around his body.
Shoulders widening, as his own posture straightened up to perfection before slouching lazily as an act of defiance. Body etching up bigger, rising up as his arms flexed in strength, biceps curling as they get layered with a similar dose of muscle his mind observed in Bowen, with mixture of the leader he saw briefly earlier.
His body took on a darker complexion, muscles gradually becoming lean and firm as a yellow asian tan took hue due to his new self being in the sun all the time. Never quitting Basketball like Bowen did, an expert and leader of the basketball club-
“Gotta train daily dude, gotta to be able to lead to victory!” His mind thought while maintaining good grades at school...But he graduated high school a long time ago! Not according to his new age he has not.
Darrel regressed back ten years younger. Reaching to his late teens as his awkwardly tight fitting suit jacket ripped out of his old clothes, joined together over the left shoulder, sleeves thinning out at the top to form strings and the remainder of the suit connected at the bottom to form a large duffel bag.
His pink buttoned down shirt’s sleeves ripped apart, stretching like taffy as they morphed into spare gym and jersey clothes as they lost their silky texture and became more cotton like, sweat absorbent material, as they fell into the duffel bag as it gets ZIPPED! Up. Would go pro if only education was not his priority, still gotta stay top and lean in his game.
The buttons vanished in an instant as the parts sealed up, collar ripping away as it crawled over his right wrist-forming a sporty wristband. His tie lost its spark as it rolled around his left wrist, solidifying and hardening into a sports watch to fit his new self.
His remaining tee turned into a comfortable but nerdy gamer top. Hugging his strong lean frame like the gymnastic, basketball teenager he was. Flexibility to a whole new level as layer of muscle inflated beneath his skin, pushing out his pectorals and abs similarly to what Bowen looked like, but slightly less muscle-mass, aggravating the teen AND!
“Dude you gotta chill! You’re already number 1 in school!”
A manly hand gripped his shoulder, warmth transmitted from straight to bi. He turned around saw his leader, Ion. He was determined to be number one in everything-but the gang. It belonged solely to Ion.
As the growing man looked up to him, his very own legs took on the pursuit, calves exercising their new owner as they grow long and firm-his whole body taking hold beyond 6ft despite still being the shorter and “LITTLE bro” between him and Bowen. He always fought for second in command against Bowen despite both of them generally blending into the background as troublemakers.
Nevertheless, the curse placed emphasis on that, downgrading every ounce of maturity and skill he once had as his legs lost coordination as though he had left feet. Not giving a shit about dancing but powerfully able to kicked to the left and then the right like he was kicking lockers with the gang at night, with each kick, it tightened against the constricting pants he now hated to wear.
“Dude, we gotta go fight the T-birds tonight man! The masculinity of our gang depends on it!”
As Ion took off, the rest of the gang followed in pursuit, a crowd of jeers and boos echoing in the background this whole time as the straightening man followed the crowd.
His suit pants could not stand the weight of his thickening yet lean gymnastic legs, filling up with tons arrogance and cockiness as they RIPPED into two at the knee area. The lower part shifting to cotton as it sew itself together, crawled up and turned into a towel wrapped around the strap of the duffel bag.
The top part shifted into a pair of pink berms, his buttocks pushing out prominently-pushing out whereby one can see the strain of pure masculinity from the sideview. Dress shorts for the much more “well off” asshole-and that Cherry bought him it in order to taunt his masculinity.
He wore it as a reminder that he always sat (on the shorts which represented her) on that bitch and that whore could not help but surround the masculinity coming from HIS DICK!
“Fucker Bowen’s probably only six inches erect HAHAHAHAHA!” He spoke, adding into the list of jeers and boos the other members made at one another.
Kicking off his feet, as with his white shoes opened themselves at the topnew sandals, with his tanned feet in display, Darrel could not help but land a goofy smile at how he looked. A brief thought about how his former self would definitely admire the stud he is now before conservative beliefs and a bully mentally took hold of his entire system as he clutched his head once more.
“#?%!!!!!!”
Darrel’s mental defences broke down easily, as the new cocky but conservative attitude takes hold. Speaking various tones of vulgarities no one but native speakers of those asian languages can understand.
Joining with the rest of them, the man smirked, as his mind and ego swelled with distinctions and trophies which garnered his father’s approval...at least for an hour. Thank God his basketball and gaming team always won at the championships!
As such-Speaking of his gaming team-
MESSAGE FROM FUCK-WEN
——————————————
FuckWen: HAHA! BANGING YOUR EX YOU SCRUB! 1 V 1 #?&@!”
——————————————-
“EH BRO, don’t act can?” The Bro sneered, speaking shamelessly as he typed.
Voice croaking immature as he lost that suave sexiness he had as a movie star. His neck thickened as his Adam’s apple rubbed and melted away his musical vocal chords, sticking to bass and a lack of any musical training, loosing his mind from the arts and more stereotypically asian.
Furious and rage echoed into his smartphone Caps which represented his loudness to his voice. Stereotypically asian and didn’t care how loud he was-except in front of dad who he had to give respect. “I let you win scrub!”
He tented in frustration, thinking about their one v one with each other. Bowen-having more experience than his fellow “bro”, won of course. Angering the asian brat further.
The new Asian had grown up in conservative, traditional beliefs but raised and cultured in a mix of American and Chinese. Which explains his extreme rebellion at night, bypassing his curfew and giving excuses such as “extra credit” to hang out with his true brothers. Geniuses in practicality like him, with himself excelling in theory as a bonus-he lived with strict asian parents after all.
Pent-Up frustration from tons of discipline and whacking, he coped with an stubborn mindset in both gaming and school-whilst brash and rude and crude to his competitors, especially gays whom they despise due to their expressive and freedom behavior in which he never had since young.
His final features took hold over his head. Hair tips spiked in their descent. Like the other asian brothers, his sides and back got buzzed off, leaving a chop of hair on top which flattened into a pure black Caesar’s cut, his hair follicles taking hold of the blackness of its hue. His face rounded itself, as any form of makeup evaporated from his face.
His nose pushed out angular like the other guys as he noticed that besides his good grades, he really was just another Asian Fucker. Smirking, as the other bros SNAPPED a pair of specs over his vision, as his irises shifted to dark brown, vision getting blurry with eyelids diluting.
Always scored distinctions-he recalled his asian pride as his member spluttered up in a jumbo mess, expelling his homosexuality once and for all.
All those cramming and memory filled his mind and balls as all other forms of untraditional, unconventional pride went out in a blast. Replenishing the seed of those that his newly nerd jock self developed. Only things such as honor, good grades-and excelling in everything he do.
The new oriental bully smirked, as he swaggered down the black alley alongside the rest of Ion’s gang. The were schedule to have a fight with the Greasers, run by Criss. The Asian Fuckers Versus the The T-birds, it ought to be the fight of the century.
Darren Will hated school, but instead of hating the bullies, he now hated the other cliques that threatened his own group . He was one of the gang! Hating the bunch of gay try-hards that dare oppose The Asian Fuckers.
No way was Darren Wong losing, specially after how salty he was when he lost his girlfriend to that Fuck-Wen, that “senior” who stayed back for years thinks he is manlier than him? FUCK NO!
He placed his warm, masculine hands onto the bros in front of him. Rough and calloused like the typical teenager he was. From straight to straight, the bros flashed an identical smirk, united troublemarkers like they always were.
They gots their eye on the prize, their heads in the game, and their controllers fully erect and ready to be pulled in every direction.