Curse of the Homophobe (Part 6)

It was over a week, before Evan’s curse activated. A week he actually found himself enjoying, despite the fact that everything he knew about himself told him he should hate this. He should hate being filthy, never showering, never using deodorant, always stinking. He should hate what he did to Curtis, how he fucked him mercilessly, abused him, raped him–though Curtis always begged for more. This Curtis. Was the other Curtis in there somewhere? The jock? When he thought about that, once, he swore he heard the voice in his mind chuckle…and that gave him the most likely answer. The next weekend, Robbie begged him to come over again, offered to pay him double the usual fee if he’d let him be his toilet for a day. Evan felt like a whore, but this new Evan didn’t care. Money was money after all, and watching the pig worship him all day long? It was worth it, in its own way too. Brought back…memories of them in that trailer, how close he’d been to giving it all up for a life of filth. He imagined that if he propositioned the pig, he could give up his football career, dropout of college, move right in with him…and it would be like nothing had changed at all…in fact, he could sense that the curse would always leave that door ajar for him, a little trap and temptation that made the whole thing feel even more sick.

But what was there to do, beyond live? He couldn’t go back, and the more days that past without anyone harassing him, the more certain he felt that the curse was beginning to fade from him, bit by bit, growing a bit bored and uninterested, pondering abandoning him entirely, if he wasn’t going to be a good little victim again. Until that Tuesday afternoon, after practice. He’d forgotten something in the locker room, and had slipped back in to grab it real quickly, only to hear two of the teams coaches–Hawke, the offensive coach, and Jerry, the head coach–talking. Talking about him.

“You didn’t tell him the scouts are coming?” Hawke asked, “I mean, I know you don’t like the guy, but he’s fucking good at what he does.”

“Please–I know these scouts, and I know what they’re looking for. He ain’t what they want. I’ve already…discussed it with them. No–as far as I’m concerned, the only guy worth scouting on this team is Everett.”

Everett was a receiver, a year than Evan was now. Good. Good enough to go pro, if he lost some of the ego and trained harder, or got a bit more charisma and could sell himself better as a property.

“That’s pretty fucking cold man.”

“You know as well as I do that nasty faggot is a fucking embarrassment to this school and this team. You think I’m gonna let someone like that go pro?”

Evan felt his guts twist. It wasn’t him. They weren’t talking about him, were they? No–no, of course they were, and he was fairly certain that even if they hadn’t been, it wouldn’t have mattered to the curse. His body was starting to heat up, he could feel himself starting to shift, and he backed out of the locker room before either of them could see him.

He stumbled into the laundry room, which was unoccupied, and gave into the curse, feeling it wash over him as he shifted. He lost some height, but not a whole lot–but his muscular build diminished quite a bit, and he found himself with a hefty beer gut stretching out his shirt, which was changing from a sleeveless tee into the same red polo as the rest of the coaching staff wore, his gym shorts turning into khakis. He cleaned up substantially as well, losing some of his musk, though not all of it by any means, his beard shortening into something a bit more professional, and picking up a smattering of grey–as did his receding hairline underneath the team cap he was wearing.

As the change completed, Evan’s old life faded away as well. Now, he was one of the teams assistant coaches, and an alumni from the school who had been decent, but not nearly dedicated enough to go pro. Instead, he had tried to settle down with his college girlfriend and they had a son together, but Evan had never really been able to control his temper, or his disdain for her, and all women, really. They’d been divorced for years now–his son, Will, was a senior in high school now and planning to attend here, and would be on the team if Evan had anything to say about it.

He hadn’t managed to settle down with anyone else, and told everyone that he was happier with the bachelor life–but in reality, he lived in denial of his own feelings, that the people he really wanted to fuck were the students and coaches on the team. He’d always gotten such a…thrill, ramming into guys on the field, dominating them, roughing them up…his wife had never taken to that much, but women couldn’t take shit. He couldn’t handle the idea of being a faggot though, so he bottled them up–and was as much of, if not more so, of a homophobe as Jerry.

But Evan–the real Evan, was clinging on all the same. If he was quick, and got back to the locker room, he might be able to change Jerry before he succumbed to this new life entirely, and get things back to normal quickly. However, when he got there, both Jerry and Hawke had gone home, and Evan, now fully lost to the coach, headed home himself to his dingy bachelor’s apartment, drank too much beer, watched some unsatisfying straight porn, and then went to bed. He’d have other opportunities soon to get back at Jerry–and maybe some other homophobes as well–but when?


Here are you options!

  1. At the next coach poker game, they become cigar smoking bears.
  2. At the next practice, he turns the coaches into dirty, gay football players.
  3. Cuckolds the head coach, fucks his wife and makes him love the humiliation.
  4. Confronts him in the locker room, makes him a piss drinking janitor.

Here’s the Twitter poll!

Here’s the Patron-only poll!

Polls close on Saturday!

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