Having lost track of his boyfriend at the beach, Corey had grabbed his cellphone to try and call Nick. It just wasn't like him to wander off without an explanation or a good reason.
Taking a seat on a bench at the boardwalk, the gay surfer listened as the phone rung and rung...
=====
The ringing of his phone was interrupting Niguel's time with his sweet mamacita Kamila. He looked down at the caller ID and wonder who this Corey was. He didn't remember anyone by that name, but something did seem familiar about that name.
Bothered by this and wanting to just get some alone time with his woman, the Mexican heartthrob answered the call.
"Nicky? Where are you?"
"Eh, who are you calling Nicky, gringo? I am Niguel Dela Cruz, muthafucka."
"Huh? But how? Did you do something to my Nicky?"
Something in the tone of that concerned question elicted an aggressive response from the hunky Mexican, as he detected this Corey was one of the pansies that didn't get that he was a real man, who wanted to be with women.
"Eh, you made a big mistake, you faggoty bastardo. You better leave me outta your sick fantasies..."
The slur hit Corey like a slap, delivered as it was by a man with a very sexy Latin accent. He felt confused and offended as it triggered a flicker of lust in him, as well as the curse he'd just been afflicted with. But somewhere deep inside of the gay surfer, the insult from this...wetback had to be responded to.
"I should've known better than to reach out your kind. You should be deported..."
The rant was cut off midway as Kamila hit the call end button. She giggled and whispered lustily in her lover's ear.
"You have mucho importante things to do right now, papi..."
Niguel grinned.
=====
Back at the beach, Corey was a bundle of mixed emotions and confusion. Why had he ranted like that? Why did this Niguel have Nick's phone? So many questions swirl in his head. He didn't know what to do. Tears were welling up in his eyes.
'Get ahold of yourself! Be a man!'
The sound of that almost fatherly voice startled Corey out of his cry.
"Who's there?"
No answer came, but the surfer still didn't feel comfortable. He got up and started to walk. As he sniffled and passed a poster urging everyone to vote in November, that voice spoke again.
'Be a man. Not a crying mess!'
This time, it caused Corey to stand up straighter, not realizing he now stood almost a foot taller than before, just a hair over six foot. His eyes locked onto that poster now, as it was for a local Republican candidate running for the state Senate.
Here was when the curse hit Corey full force. His clothes, already straining against his new height, began to alter themselves, to better reflect who he was becoming.
The wetsuit he had been wearing tore itself into two separate pieces of clothing. The top part of his attire began to thicken as it formed three layers. The undermost layer was the thinnest. It felt soft on his skin as it turned to a bleached white color with buttons forming down its middle. The outermost layer turned dark blue and grew heavy and thick, as it formed into a suit jacket. The middle layer turned the same blue as the jacket, becoming a four-button vest which went over Corey's well-pressed dress shirt. A stiff collar extended around his neck, and allowed a dark red tie to snake in under it. The red silk then tied itself into a perfect Windsor knot.
The bottom part of the former wetsuit also developed layers, but there were only two in this case. The outer one stretched down his legs as Corey felt a sudden tightening around his waist and groin as the underlayer became a clean pair of white briefs. The outer layer had finished becoming a pair of professionally tailored trousers that matched his jacket and vest perfectly.
As his outfit formed, Corey's young body began to change to fill it out fully. His thinnish legs gained more mass, born of time at the gym and on the campaign trail. The bulking up then moved up into his torso and arms, as surges of more muscle and some fat pulled the suit a bit tighter across his body. His unseen briefs strained to contain a surge of growth from his ass and his cock. Also hidden was the growth of body hair on his chest and forearms.
His mind was trying to cope with these rapid physical changes which made it slow to respond its own rewriting. The concern Corey had been feeling for the missing Nick was twisted into a disdain for queers, as his attraction lurched from males to females. But there was more to his growing conservative mindset, as it also reserved a healthy amount of dislike and heat for those who'd invaded his beloved country from south of the border...
Black socks started forming on his feet, as his sandals morphed into a pair of fine quality bespoke dress shoes, black with a mirror polish. For a moment, his feet seemed undersized, but with loud cracks, they grew to fit the new footwear.
His hands popped and snapped larger as his blonde hair began to darken. It pulled itself in a finely coiffed mane, as hints of gray began to appear at his temples. A perfect widow's peak settled above a widening forehead. Years of experience reshaped his chin and cheeks into the lantern-jaw of a real man. Thick eyebrows grew in as he blinked away the blue eyes of his youth into the brown of maturity. His teeth were white and straight, just like the rest of him.
Now came a flood of memories that washed away the last remains of the surfer Corey. In the wake, Senator Carter Stanwyck was left looking a poster for his re-election in the fall.
Satisfied, the middle-aged politican turn to leave, his footsteps carrying him towards where a small crowd had gathered nearby. As he stood behind a podium, Carter began to speak forcefully and powerfully about the need to close the borders to the filthy immigrants, and called for a reaffirmation of traditional marriage. He did not notice as a gold Rolex wrapped around his left wrist, nor did he feel the thick wallet that formed in his backpocket.
"I tell you that we must combat the twin threats that these illegal scumbags and their queer allies present to our traditional way of life..."
The sound of faint applause brought a smile to the Senator's face. He had them eating out of his hand. However, a band of gold began to creep around his ring finger...