“Alright...Im going to call Daphne...well, Delphine now.”
Matron Ritters and Kevin Chase woke up far apart from the other surprising enough. On opposite ends of the sofa, hoodies tossed aside as they rubbed their heads uncomfortably as a result of the horrendous hang over. Sobering up as they cuddled one another caring for the other’s safety
If the two of them glanced at each other right now-it would have normally sealed the deal as each time a curse victim turns into a Heterosexual homophobe -the easier it is for them to get aroused and the longer it is for them to remain in their new forms.
But due to the curse’s restrictions, their dicks are sealed from rising due to one another.
Instead, they were informed by the curse that in order to break its effect, they had to resist their wives’ advances and personality at the peak of their transformation into the doctors, avoid coming in anyway possible so that they could turn back into their old gay selves again.
Little do they know, the curse lied again.
As these two men had upset the balance, making out with one another despite being infected. The curse decided to withhold their arousal for one another...temporarily for an hour...
As for why? Just so the twins can be used to seal them up as Dr Mark Riches and Dr Percival Chang for good. It will be so hot, their homosexual selves are going to be screaming in envy and lust at how het they will become.
As for their heterosexual homophobic selves well...Its been ‘ages’ since they touched their wives, amplified by the fact that their previous transformation ended up making out, homophobia-laced arousal amplified deep down-taking root.
Ready to sprout the moment their wives just-
“MARK RICHES! GET OVER HERE THIS INSTANT!”
“Delphine! You came?” Matron spoke in a heavily exaggerated accent, instantly amplified by the curse making it as though he were an indian. His eyes widened, as the unique accent flew like honey through his delicate gay boy ears-soon to be turned into those of a hardcore family man whose determined to find a cure to his son’s homosexuality.
Of course she came...the curse informed that the girls transformed into their ‘wives’. He was astonished at how quick it took effect-in fact, he could tent again...well at the sound of his lovely wife, not that he was complaining-Get it together Matron! Just do not expel...Just do not expel...
“Just do not expel-“
“Not now Percival! My wife needs my help.”
His own mouth spoke in an urgent expression, and his countenance did not show otherwise. Eyes widened, a mixture of fear for his ‘wife’ , masking the thoughts of worry from his self transformation...As the curse takes on a permanent root in him-The Teacher’s Lounge shifted ever so surprisingly.
With the hoodie still hanging over the new clothes rack, it morphed into a oldies but stylish trench coat, from the 50s, passed down from nobility. As well as the backpack turning into a steel-security in locked briefcase, we now know the new Mark Riches is in a higher caliber than he was.
The mini fridge upgraded-black stoney marble almost as though Mark had bought it himself. Multitudes of trophies, ones for a noble prize winner as himself, decorated the upper shelf next to the fridge-as the sofa became larger and stretched to the other side, turning into at least a four sitter-for obvious reasons.
A personal lounge for Percival, their wives and himself. Matron itched to get a few cans and drink them on to go-but this is urgent business! Mark’s wife needs him...which would mean he is Mark! Right?!
Kevin’s eyes were filled with panic, realizing Mark-Matron! ...If that was his name? Is getting way into it. Urgently wanting to reach out to his friend and crush, but as he stretched out his hand, it shifted to a thumbs up.
Matron upon seeing this, nodded and immediately dashed to the entrance of the doorway. His very own earphones immediately re-morphed back into simple lanyard with his identification as Mark Riches, PhD and dashed out into the direction of his wife. Like an input GPS system which tells him exactly where his wife is.
As Kevin saw this, he could only hope Matron got it together-as he heard the staff room door’s card-reader identification unit being read, as he head a shrill middle aged asian women’s voice sounding in his ear.
“Percival Hun! Im backkkkkkkk~!”
——————
Delphine was not that far-only hiding in the empty classroom opposite of the lounge. Her cries could be heard as they were loud and obnoxious coming from a middle aged asian bitch as herself.
As Matron-or as the curse disguised Delphine’s vision as Mark-cupped his hands over those cheeks of hers. His face squinting at the tears and the ugly cry of the older woman...but for some reason, he felt sympathetic towards her...like he hated to see her cry like this.
“Mark! Our son is gay!”
“Son?!!”
Yes Son, as his boner throbbed at the fact he recalled the grueling process it was to pop out a single baby...not that he was complaining! Fucking his wife. ‘My wife...’
“MARK! OUR SON IS GAY!”
Almost instantly, Delphine snapped out of her crying, pulling her ‘husband’s’ shorts downwards as it exposed his yellowish pale ass, which seemingly seemed to get firmer, and tanner by the second as a reaction to the quick change in personality by the wife.
Eventually it became even former and sturdier than Mark's was ever before, a new mental note in mind about staying fit and handsome for his lovely wife furthered Matron's arousal, mixed between a blush and a remaining arousal in which his dick was pressing tightly against those briefs of his-already leaking pre-cum as the newly polyester-skin tight boxers wrapped his steely buns firmly.
He always loved hiking-specially back in the Caribbean, and Canada where Percival holds residence. It was no wonder as his formalizing shorts dropped all the way down-extending longer as silk, brown dress pants. Giving way to his milky skin to darken as a rampage of hairs fill his knees. Tanning up, smooth but bristly muscular thighs, Caribbean seafood does wonders to your body as well as the climate of India-boy does travelling around the world make even a middle aged man reach over 6ft!
“AROUND-MARK!”
In an instant, his feet did a semi circle as though he was commanded to do so. STOMPING down his shoes, as they turned into a teacher’s black bespoke shoes with a sharp pointed end. CLUNK! Fitting his feet are a pair of navy blue socks with the initials R engraved in a royal cursive fashion as they STRETCHED as the feet followed in pursuit. Fitting the size 11s perfectly as the changing gay spread apart
his legs and-
WHACK!
“MMMMPH!” He held his YELP! As the dominant middle aged lady smacked his hiker’s butt, rubbing his firm noble buttocks fervently as tons of impressed lines hid behind his tightened ass, recalling the years of harsh discipline by the instructors of his younger school days. How he hated it originally and preferred the freedom of being a man alone at home. And how he loved and craved it as he got older.
Heck! He found it hot.
It was just as Percival said-Loud boys deserve a good spanking. And he was a loud son of a diplomatic father and mother whom were always so busy overseas-thankfully the school he grew up in knew to make sure sissiness and homosexuality never takes root in their kids.
And damn he loved being spanked over and over.
“Damn Hun...You discipline good...!” The older man winced initially, shocked by the firm impact before his pain turned into bliss. He smirked, . He always loved violence, specially if it came from his wifey.
‘Wifey’
The more that term is used in his mind, the more the asian scientist grew to like it, and the less of Matron resisting. In fact, who or what was a Matron? Some alternate universe of himself as a gay shy loner! Hah! Science disproves that! Though if that were proven through-‘Matron’ had to be set straight. And who better than the Riches!
“And there’s more where that came from if our son does not turn straight within the next hour!” Delphine coldly replied, only spanking the Scientist once as she was about to-
GRAB!
The Scientist was grabbed ahold by his wife-now facing her. Barely showing any resistance like a student bowing to his discipline mistress, legs having to bend down due to the height contrast he shared with her now. His spinal chord extending as his backbones pushed him slightly taller so that he was 6 ft 2, genetics so that even if his knees are onto the ground-he was still able to see his wife eye to eye if she was to stand. And plus, he loved to be grabbed by her...
His shirt was killing him with the masochistic heat, despite the air conditioning Mar.... something, continued to sweat as it leaked out every pale skin complexion he used to bare into his shirt, his own skin taking on the Indian hue with the last drips of sweat expelled, incredible curly chest hair along his pectorals ballooning upward moderately as a couple of abs lay out.
A moderate sized figure of an incredible hiker and a princely man, his trapezoids raise upwards and supported his thickening neck-vocal chords rearranging into the perfect deep, Indian royalty. Back muscles massaging out decently, as they were trained either by mountains or at the gym regularly, pressing tightly against his sweat-drenched shirt.
The sweat causing it to turn silky and take on a plain blue, like the former Percival’s did, so as to not have distracting pinstripes to stray women and unsuspecting gay men away from his strong body. A row of buttons popped down the middle, the collar popped down and his sleeves rolled up up to his elbow, conservatively show off his powerful asian guns as they press tightly against the fabric. Not overly big but the perfect sized for him.
As she glared at him, excessive homophobia took hold as he mimicked the glare-almost as though Delphine’s channelling the spirit of homophobia into her husband. He knew his son had to be set straight...no matter what. Sometimes, he wanted too-wanted to strangle his son for the dishonor against his family and religion. But he knows that science can set anyone straight.
“Im going to fight sister! She has no right to insult us!”
As Delphine let go of the man, he swiftly pulled up his black dress pants-whereby the cursed looped a black leather belt with a typical silver buckle hollow square buckle. ‘Catfight?’ An expensive Silver Rolex looped over his wrist, an Indian spice mixture was sprayed all over his former scent, mixing with the manliness he exhibited.
‘CATFIGHT?’ Mark Riches clasped the RICHES engraved, titanium wedding ring on his hand, grinning widely as he yelled his deep voice. The only thing unchanged was the features of his face-which was already tanned and ready for the catfight.
“CATFIGHT?!”
“Yes catfight dear, now move it!”
Dr Riches was tugged his wife’s fingers, feeling the gentle but ironically wrinkled hands. Originally recalling his mom’s before his past life evaporated before his eyes like a mist. The haze of tons of scotch and beer hung him over to dream land, fantasising the cat fight extraordinaire and how he is going to pin his wife down in the moment.
As Delphine pulled the grinning male, he could only stare in bliss as the final changes are about to take place, sealing him into a life the grandson of a Nigerian Prince.
And if he was going to go het, he was going to go all the way with his Princess.
————————————————
Kevin on the other-hand, was in a trance almost instantly. The moment he heard her, his world slowed down-but his mind accelerated in knowledge and transformation. As the snapback immediately slid down into his prized lanyard, reading PhD, Percival Chang.
He had to take it easy...just wait and stick to the routine and follow instructions like back in the good ol’ army days. Who needs fast instructions like those unruly kids and their dance practice?
“Oh honey...! Didn’t know you were coming for a visit...!”
Kevin slowed down in terms of speech, sounding draggy and long, rekindling that British aroma he developed from Queen’s English. Whilst remaining polite and nice, being a resident and partaker of Canadian culture.
He was nice and peaceful-but even he and his mind had to admit, his arousal was a battlefield.Irresistibly adjusting his own package, feeling the very of thoughts of ‘shooting’ His wife, his very own member and his hormones feeling confident as it went-
SWOOSH!
POKE!
HUG!
He immediately embraced his ‘Wife’, Boner instantly rising to the occasion as he unwittingly started grinding against his wife’s. The old Kevin deep down would resist, but Percival longed for his wife-Badly.
A deep dark summer hue overtook his growing mast, and like His sweatpants, not even ignoring the fact that they're already shifting to the Teacher traditional shit they are becoming. An aroused member begging to break apart the cloth restraining him from piercing his wife, already leaking pre-cum into the briefs as they tightened further into a men’s jockstrap with green fatigues-a foreshadowing on what is going to be elaborated.
Originally, the man was able to easily embrace his wife-but was the curse takes rampant, similar to Scientist Riches, knee onto the floor as they grew into BIG ARMY MAN trunks. The deep summer asian tan spreading beneath Percival’s skin as very slight bristles popped out. Those that were out in the sun whole day.
In conjunction, his gay pants, shifted into a pair of dark dress pants as they strongly hugged against his calves, it was evident that Percival was somewhat larger-and perhaps taller than the other doctor.
Which is yet again, another one of the reasons why Priscilla was the bigger twin.
“Its been ages dear, kick away your shoes, Okaeri~”
THUD THUD!
The entranced male followed her sweet command. She was not his commander but with the way she sounded, he bet even his commander was submit to her wishes. Kicking off his former sneakers which CLUNK! CLUNK! Into an Oxford pair of black dress shoes. Polished and already loose due to it being size 13s like the boots he wore during his army days...
‘Oh my army days...’
An incredible uniformity and marching required, feet itching for some stomping as they BURST through the socks he wore, STRETCHING into a 13 footer as they wiggled in their tanned baked masculinity as they stretched into black dress shoes-accommodating the new space before the newly black dress socks began wrapping over his proud feet.
“My big strong army man wants to be commanded doesn’t he?”
Scientist Chang placed his squared and firm, steely bubble butt onto the ground, dick at full mast as his wife adjusts her lower skirt and traditional panties comfortably around his proud-hood, gingerly teasing him as she gently, slowly but surely, gyrates around it like a traditional Japanese dance.
The Doctor was gobsmacked, and Kevin was held in place, forcibly given into his new straight lust for his wife.
Placing her palms onto his dance shirt as it unleashed a starched orchid purple, being was her favorite flower, blossoming a row of buttons down the middle, a formal collar framed around his neck. A wide spread of sheets threaded around his arms before rolling up in a way that is teacher-appropriate, finalizing into a professional orchid button down which is extremely loose and large for the lean hiphop torso, which in a matter of seconds will soon turn into Percival’s large, domineering and hunky tor-SOOOOO!
Clothes becoming tighter as his army-condition tan surged in his bloodline and BURSTED all over his body. A buff sense of pride followed in suit and BELLOWED out gigantic, solid pectorals with nipples that were as hardened as his abs which churned and CRUNCHES into an eight pack.
It was not that surprising for the army man, muscular genetics ran in his family like both of his obedient sons. Proud of em’, Biceps hardened and swelled as they became more combat fit instead of gay nimble pride from rebellious hip hop. Swelling with veins as he recalled doing drills, lifting heavy weights and doing a multitude of push ups and still doing so as his daily drill, and sleeves, constrained and maintained his Commander sized giant biceps which could send a foe flying-thankfully due to his respectful upbringing, consistent taming from the army and even his wife, The British-Taught Scientist could handle his very own buff aggression.
He always took it easy after all...despite being quick and swift in responding to instructions and actions, he was always slow paced in terms of physical conversations. Perhaps it was partly due to his nerdy awkward shyness, which was used maintain his boring uniformity.
His incredibly het body would naturally plow his wife and fire her over and over...shoulders apart as his back rose up like an impenetrable wall with incredible rippling muscles, a 6ft 3 and taller than Mark slightly.
Perfect for carrying his wife everywhere in which he always loved doing so, whilst maintaining military posture with his tough and wide shoulders, supported by his sturdy traps as they connected to his alpha neck with chords of steel and honorability-made for both yelling in salutes, and speaking meek and humbly. The perfect asian male husband, much honor.
However, the mind of the ingenious noble prize winner decided to wait. Allowing Kevin to get a ‘leeway’ to restrain from expelling for the time being.
Knowing there was a better prize upcoming.
He clenched his fists, wrists aged with palms becoming rough, experienced and calloused. Like Dr Riches’s, Nails trimmed firmly to ensure cleanliness and hygiene as their thumbprints shift so as to be able to access their China and Caribbean Brand phones.
Huge hands couple of sizes larger than his lover, thick fingers ready to pull the trigger and fire his ‘wife’, whereby ‘wife’ was a term that his commander gave to every soldier’s personal rifles, needing to guard it with his entire life or face strict disciplinary action.
“Percival dear...get ready...”
He loved being called that name...
His jacket, tossed aside to the corner of the room reemerged into multiple items, an expensive silver rolex which flung into his masculine wrist-given by his dear wife, a black leather belt with a hollow squared silver belt buckle looped around his pants-which tightened as his incredible army tent only kept on rising due to the tightness of it, and the CHANG engraved titanium wedding ring of his-both Mark and him got these special wedding rings for their wives and themselves, with the only exception being their wives had thinner ones with a diamond engraved.
They were men after all, they needed to be thicker and the head of the family. They were not sissies, especially not him, now that his wife in front and intending to add another kid to the family, he was a proud family man.
Unzipping his pants-as he unzipped his mind from all that rebellious teenage stuff and stupidity. Getting it filled instead were many decades worth of knowledge, alongside condition to all forms of tradition, uniformity, handwork and conservativeness. Fighting against the belt, he rummaged below as he tried to fish out his manhood without disrupting his wife’s advances.
As the old Kevin and his defiant persona barely held on, with hetero urges denying gay, gay? Men who fool around with other boys...tsk tsk tsk...boy he was so glad that his sons were straight. Shame Mark’s son is-
CREAK!
“Well well well! If it isn’t the fag-bearer, Beta Twin!”
As soon as those words were spoken by Priscilla, who turned a 180 degrees and scoffed at Delphine-who was initially at the door connected to the school’s hallway and grabbing hold of the widely grinning Dr Riches’ masculine hands, leaped onto Priscilla who was on Dr Chang-tackling her and pulling down her husband.
Dr Riches ended up laying flat onto the floor in the same position as Dr Chang as the both of them slowly brought their torso up with palms pressing against the floor to maintain their balance-legs still spread far apart as Delphine somehow connected her rear onto his husband’s prized area.
Gyrating as though to channel bitch asian mom energy, she fought with her twin who did the same as well. Both Scientists were gobsmacked by the turn of events, Dr Riches already grinning widely and Dr Chang whose face is turning red as a cherry, could only comment the following words-
“My wife’s hot...”
“Mine as well...”
Before they started to-
“CATFIGHT!”
“CATFIGHT!”
Hooter and holler like they did in their university days. Man is it as hot as EVER!
Thank God he waited! Damn....He could not miss this, specially not this.
Ultra Straight men cannot resist a cat fight. But now that they are in one-it takes on a whole new level! They gave way to their Hetero urges, in which they classify as ‘traditional’ due to expressing their heterosexuality like back in the olden days where nobody was gay.
As they shout, their members could only pump the essence of heterosexual husbands who deeply love their wives, physically and mentally and CATFIGHT! No wonder they fell in love with the two, with the amount of rivalry and snarky attitude they shared against one another and other ladies, not to mention how incredible and aggressive they tend to gyrate as they fought-it was a straight man’s wet dream.
Scientist Chang adjusted his specs-as the readjusted into his increasingly degreed vision. AdjustIng his glasses as they turned rectangular and focused, his face only became redder as his head became squared dominance, chin rising along with his authority as aftershave was laced over and under his thin-oriental lips, keeping clean always in order to respect the customs of the army-even out of service.
With arrogance and a Chinese standard to be the best took hold of that relaxed free persona he used to have. Thrusting back and forth in sync with the rotation, his hair shaved off at the sides and back, trimming into short spikes at the top as any trace of dye was eradicated completely-only short follicles of grey was present for the man in his fifties, oldest of the four of them due to serving in the army before going to uni.
Despite their age differences, he always prided upon due to the fact those unruly and insufferable caucasians had no choice but to respect them as their elders. He raised his eyebrow a little, it turning grey as well as developing a narrow minded shape which brought emphasis on his views, alongside some wrinkles and spots, as well as a teacher’s mole to the his upper right of his life, completing his look.
The way he carried himself was completely different, maybe even slightly intimidating. His ears and cheekbones redefined themselves as his nose became prominent as though he could smell a disobedient student from far away. Rarely showing his easy going side except to other asians like himself, and only his hollering het side to his family-and members of the Wifey Catfight Club, a thing Riches and him had.
Scientist Riches on the other hand, face remained grinning and cocky, barely even hiding his arousal and having a drunk-loving face like his earlier self, with some laughter lines and slight wrinkes due to him being a push-over, doing the essence of a middle aged man.
But due to his Nobility background, his incredible vast spread of genes as well as royalty from a Nigerian Prince, his skin shone like an Indian Caribbean man in his early thirties. Like his parents took good care of their son really well. Nevertheless, some wrinkles were present to represent his age, slightly younger than his wife due to him being a prodigy and going to university early.
Allowing the intoxication of his hot wife in heat to take over as his hair buzzed at back and sides, loosening up as the straight hair shifted into deep black curls at the top of his head and in his genetics. His chin and head squared out, bristly growing in light stubble before a nice dark colored beard took over his chin, and upper and lower lips which became fuller and had a more darkish pink to them. His nose became fuller as his ears widened to the sound of occasional Bollywood music-despite his bud Percival hating dancing, he could not help himself but groove to the beat of songs from his country of origin-India.
Dr Riches was nearly complete, as his eyebrows arched handsomely with the slightest flocks of grey, the youthful but matured nobleman just wanted his front row seat of the Catfight-which He Got but MORE!
Their boners throbbed with excitement, itching in the ring and pounce and dominant their already dominant partners. Long and erect at 9 inches, bushy and well packaged men-one being an incredible hard worker in the mainlands and later in the army, the other being a noble with a thirst for hiking for adventure.
Both of course, being Science Scholars in the Britain’s university. Working in various labs before decided to stick to an American college in order to fulfill their research on the gay gene, intending to set the gays straight once and for all.
Oriental tastes and seed from monthly pounding in the past-before it then shifted to weeks-months without their wives’s boiling pussy! Months seemed like years as their old gay selves have never been so close as to grope a girl’s huge b-donkers!
Dr Riches hurriedly whipped out his belt and pulled apart the constraints of his pants, whipping out his full mast as he churned and pierced through his wife’s shamelessly.
Dr Chang could not resist the bombarding thoughts and gyrating sensations about his wife, dick pushing out of his boxers, past any faggy enemy quarters and even past her panties into his wife’s treasure. What an incredible specimen he has grown into, as well as the sex that he is having with his wife.
Chang’s epicanthic folds fulled up into stereotypical asian vision, eyes looking at his wife as he thrusted, Riches’ eyes widened open, as they developed a light caramel brown to them.
Both immediately grabbed a hold of their wives’ boobs-almost to CLIMAX AND-
PSSH!
PSSH!
Mark Riches seed exploded into Delphine’s like a nuclear bomb, the middle aged man kissing her as though they just got married again after 30 years. She still got that fire he loved burning inside her.
Percival Chang’s Troops were immediately dispatched instantly into his wife. Burning and dropping his old self gone for good as he pushed against his glasses. Proud of his wife and himself.
Both men were completely sealed as they are, but not just that. As they churned into their wives, they became slightly taller, facial features seeming slightly more youthful as though their makeup and facial treatments did work. Not to mention their incredible figures which was unfazed by their growing bellies. Without a doubt, the ladies-were too, sealed up into powerful Matriarchs by their hubby breeders.
Almost as they climaxed, the twins got up once again-and continued their catfight as the professors brushed aside the mess they made, fixing up as they were responsible for the classes they are having next. Wanting to stay and holler longer, but they were responsible adults.
Besides, what makes them hooter the most besides Catfights-specially their wives catfights, was setting gays straight.
“My sons always came out straighter than before...” Speaking pompously, as he knew everything and that he was the center and the King of setting gays straight. “Just like our soon to be third kid...”
“Percival...what’s your secret...I need to set my son straight before my wife disciplines me again!” Mark urgently asked him, though grinning and saying “Not that Im complaining! But my wife’s pretty upset.”
“Ah yes! There is a straight army camp down from the school which sets unruly homosexuals straight, run by my colleagues when I was still in the army.”
“Really?!! That’s great!!!”
“Had to unrust my noggin a lil...glad I could recall it...”
“Thank you Percival! We will immediately be sending him there first thing tomorrow!”
The two of them grabbed ahold of one another’s palms, clasped and gave a firm shook from colleague to colleague, dad to dad, man to man.