Nick was distraught to say the least, Not only had he just witnessed James transform into a full blooded latin amigo right before his eyes, but he had himself been unwilling transformed into a homophobic jock and then back again within the past couple of hours. What's more, he knew he'd be headed down that road again the next time he got aroused. He knew he had to think fast and try to make it home before he lost control again. Nick started walking down the corridor away from the Dick's Sporting Goods were James had just become Jose. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor in an attempt to avoid what he feared might be the inevitable. He made his way as quickly as he could towards the mall doors. Nick figured he'd have a better chance once he was outside since there would be fewer people around than within the crowded shopping center. From there it would just be a two block walk to his house and relative safety from any attractive guy that might activate the curse.
He looked up for just a moment in order to reach for the door, but a moment was all it took. Getting ready to enter the mall was a group of the three tall guys that looked to be Eastern European in origin. He was quite familiar with the type. Tall, fit, with short hair and somewhat revealing clothes. They seemed to be the lifeguards at every pool in the area not to mention total lady killers and complete fiends at the club. Thanks to their loud, boisterous way of talking he could make out the distinctive accents through the thin glass panels of the door. Maybe it was the deep, sultry voices, or maybe it was the firm biceps each of the guys had on full display, but all Nick knew was a stirring in his loins coupled with the familiar sensations of swelling and constriction which suddenly wracked his body. It was too late and he knew it.
Resigned to his fate Nick barreled through the doors and made it maybe 30 feet into the parking lot before the pain became too much to bear. Seeking a refuge from prying eyes, he crouched down between a large white truck and an an older VW compact.
At the clothing store he and James had ducked into prior to their latest set of changes, he'd found a blue Hurley shirt and a pair of tan Quicksilver flip-flops that had sufficed as a make-shift outfit. As he sat crouched between the cars the sensations that had overcome his body seemed to concentrate on his feet. His small size 8's stated to swell to size 13's, bones popped, cracked and expanded returning to jockish proportions. Just as it seemed his small footwear would be ripped to shreds they too began to shift and change. The thong between his toes disappeared and the strap across the top moved backward as the material thickened, widened, and darkened. The soles grew to match his new feet as they shifted from a cotton blend to a rubber composite. The nearly completed footwear became a uniform jet-black. Three white stripes ran across the straps completing his new pair of Adidas slides.
His calves became clad in a pair of crew-length black athletic socks that had appeared from out of nowhere and his legs started to swell once again with jock muscle. These weren't the legs of a surfer. They were the legs of a jock with a dedicated gym regimen. Just as before, he was unnerved by the sensation of someone new... someone entirely different from he he was, gaining control of mind and his body. He looked across his new legs and felt his mind wracked with conflicting emotions. In the same moment he felt both horror and pride. Memories of the days and hours spent building his muscles in the gym existed alongside memories of days spent on his board out in the swell. It was confusing to say the least and he couldn't for the life of him tell which memories were his and which were the product of the curse forcing a new life upon him in an attempt to extinguish all that he was.
Distracted by his changing memories Nick had failed to notice his tight black speedo growing lighter in some sports. Stripes of different shades and colors began to appear across the fabric as the material expanded and his Lycra-spandex blend speedo completed its change into a pair of much larger cotton boxers. His attention was drawn downward again as he felt his member beginning to swell. He caught sight of his new boxers just as his dick started to poke through the opening at the crotch. With growing excitement and waning horror he grabbed hold of his tool as it stretched from a reasonable 4 inches to a hard as rock 8 inch monster which could never hope to be contained by his underwear. He released his fuck-stick and a pair of slim black athletic shorts appeared a moment later covering his monster but doing little to conceal the bulge. There orange stripes formed down the outside of each leg and an Adidas logo in the same color appeared concluding the change.
From the waist down Nick wasn't Nick anymore. His legs had already granted him a couple additional inches in height, so when he stood for a moment in an attempt to get his bearings he found himself looking at the cars around him from a noticeable different perspective. What's more, the VW next to Nick struck him with a strange sense of familiarity. Somehow he recognized it as Golf GTI even though he couldn't drive and knew shit about cars.
Nick's attention was drawn again to his rapidly changing body as suddenly he felt as though someone had punched him square in the stomach. Lifting his Hurley T he watched as an indomitable set of abs formed across his midsection. First two, then four... the pain had increased 2-fold. Following a minute of agony in which he nearly blacked-out from the pain, Nick regained enough self control to look down again and saw a ripped six-pack clearly visible beneath the shirt that was fighting a loosing battle to contain the jock growing within its confines. This situation was remedied promptly as his shirt underwent its own transfiguration. Nick held tightly to the fabric as it breached to white and the grey Hurley logo across his chest distorted into an orange Adidas logo to match the accents across his new pair of shorts.
The transformation seemed to be accelerating as it neared completion. In another moment his sleeves were gone and his new Adidas athletic shirt grew two sizes. His bare arms looked oddly out of place and he was no where near tall enough for the size large shirt he found himself wearing. He knew this was wrong... the massive slides, the jock swagg... it wasn't him, or was it? He couldn't tell anymore. Nick leaned against the white Golf as a pair of stalwart pecs erupted from his chest and an after-market spoiler popped out from the back of the car. His biceps swelled into a set of lady-killing guns as the rims on the compact shifted from factory standard aluminum to a custom black matte with chrome accents. Suddenly the windows were down and Lil' Wayne could be heard blasting from a suped-up sound system that hadn't been there before. Without thinking Nick started to bob his head to the beat and even started to rap along under his breath. A rock fan till death Nick realized what he was doing and fought with all his might to regain control if only for a moment. He took the opportunity to take stock of who he was becoming. Unfortunately for Nick his internal voice along with his memories and preferences had been so corrupted by the curse that he couldn't really determine what was old and what was new. The cocky jock that had been growing within took the moment of confusion as an opportunity to seize control. He stretched out his arms above his head as his spine grew, each vertebra cracking and expanding with an audible pop to raise him to his new height of 6-2. Nick's torso now fit his shirt perfectly. Having forgotten what he was so concerned about a few moments prior, he cracked the door to his car and sat down in the driver's seat in order to clear his head. He allowed the beats to consume him, and consume him they did.
His skin, already dark from days spent on his board and at the beach, didn't become much darker but the pigment changed from a tan to a coloration that was the product of genetics rather than sun exposure. A veritable coating of black hairs spouted around his legs and his bush expanded around his swollen manhood. A light treasure-trail crawled up his abs and a dusting appeared across his pecs.
It was all becoming clear, like a veil of fog lifting from his dulled psyche. Nick was gone, the man sitting, blaring his music in his suped-up VW Golf was know as Zoran. He was born in Serbia and moved to the US two years ago on a work visa. He worked as a lifeguard at a couple local pools which was perfect for a guy like him. He could chill with his boys and show off for the ladies all at the same time. He took a moment to check himself out in his rear-view mirror before heading into the mall to catch up with his homies. "Zdravo bra," he said to himself as he admired his reflection. His image seemed to blur for a second, but he brushed it off as a trick of the mind. After all, he'd spent most of last night getting shwasted at bar before going home with some big titted bimbo who's name he's never bothered to get. It was probably just the last remnants of a hangover. What he didn't notice is that when his image came back into focus his hair was shorter than it had been, nearly shaved on the sides. The former blond had shifted into a brown which accurately reflected his Eastern European heritage. His face had also changed and he was now completely unrecognizable from the boy he'd been just minutes before. Satisfied with the image masculinity before him, Zoran turned off his music, got up from the driver's seat, and locked his car. He absentmindedly played with the chain around his neck as he made his way into the mall to catch up with his boys...