Richie Does As He's Told (Patreon)

This story was based on an eight-word idea from my buddy Brandon Twice. 

Richie Incognito had never exactly been reserved when it came to expressing his opinions, so he really didn’t know why queers continued to shoot their shot with him. He was as straight as an arrow and no flaming homo would cause him to bend, no matter how much of a pretty boy they might be. Richie liked women with big tits and fat asses that he could have his fun with and then discard. It really wasn’t that difficult to understand, he wanted nothing to do with those flamboyant queers!

Unfortunately some people didn’t get the message and the burly lineman still had to field off approaches from hopeless gay fans more often than he would have liked. The latest guy to try it on with him might as well have been the textbook example of a fragile liberal, with his baby blue hair, gaudy ear piercings and frightfully skinny body. Truthfully Richie was surprised that a mere gust of wind didn’t snap the homo in two, he looked so damn fragile. Even if Richie was gay, the other man would never be able to handle a beast like him!

“Eyes elsewhere, queer!” the football player growled when he caught the delusional twink eyeing him up in the gym. Why couldn’t he even workout in peace without somebody trying to push the gay agenda on him?! The world’s going to shit, he thought angrily as the blue-haired twink skulked away, muttering under his breath in a language that Richie didn’t understand. He was at least glad that the queer had left him alone with little argument; the less interaction Richie had with the other, the better.

It was after that encounter though that something weird started to happen to Richie: the big man suddenly felt compelled to do absolutely everything that was requested of him. It had started so small that Richie hadn’t even noticed - his neighbor had asked the NFL player to make a quick trip to the drug store as they were having to self-isolate but desperately needed some aspirin. It was the kind of request that Richie would have turned down in a heartbeat, yet he found himself getting into his car and making the trip.

While both he and the neighbor were surprised with Richie’s decision to see the favour through, it had been easy to put that down to a rare moment of generosity on the notoriously selfish lineman’s part. But then it kept happening. One of the interns at the Raiders facility caught him littering and asked him to pick it up; Richie had done it without question. When hooking up with a busty chick he’d met at the bar, she had asked him to go down on her (something he didn’t exactly have a habit of doing, because his pleasure was always more important) and once again he had followed the instruction. Soon it became too obvious for Richie to ignore. There was something unusual going on with him, and there was a very good chance that it would end up getting him in trouble…

Richie managed to keep his cursed state (because what else could it be, other than a curse?) a secret from the locker room for all of a week before people started to catch on. It had been the O-Line coach who had worked it out first, probably because he’d jokingly told Richie to quack like a duck and that had been all the big guy had been able to do until somebody else in the room demanded that he start speaking normally again.

From there it was perhaps only a day until everybody in the Raiders facility knew that they could instruct Richie to do something and he would magically be compelled to do it. Plenty of guys were more than happy to take advantage of his compromised state, ordering him to humiliate himself by loudly singing songs that were well out of his vocal range, or twirling his hips like Shakira in the middle of practice. If it hadn’t made for such an amusing sight then the coaches probably would have grown frustrated with the team, although Richie definitely heard his name being passed around between the coaching staff in hushed tones.

While Richie’s relationships with the various guys in the Raiders locker room was usually fairly strained, there was nobody that he butted heads with more than Carl Nassib. The fact that the other man had exposed himself as a cock lover during the offseason definitely didn’t sit right with Richie; he wasn’t pleased about having to share a locker room and shower space with a homo, although apparently expressing such opinions made him unpopular. He had made the mistake of making a joke to the other man about his queerness when the defensive player fired back a damning instruction: “Why don’t you start being attracted to men and then see if you feel like mocking me for it, huh?” Richie so badly wanted to laugh off the other’s words - there was no way that an instruction could change his sexuality - and yet the curse forbade him too. Within a second he had gone from looking at Carl with disgust to suddenly recognising just how hot the other man was. Fuck, he made me into a homo!

One of the few things Richie understood about his curse was that he had no influence over himself; he couldn’t give himself an order and then be forced to follow it out, so he couldn’t just immediately make himself straight again. At least until somebody else instructed it, Richie was going to be stuck getting wood as a result of other men. The locker room was suddenly going to become an even more dangerous place for him! After finishing up at practice for the day, Richie waited until nearly everybody else was done before stripping down and getting into the showers. The temptation was simply too strong and he found himself beating his meat while picturing all of the athletic bodies that he had just been surrounded with. He hated how turned on he was, but he simply couldn’t keep his hands off of himself. The male body was just so damn beautiful!

Unfortunately for Richie the locker room hadn’t quite cleared out entirely, and the sound of a throat clearing from nearby snapped the big guy out of his lustful haze. His heart skipped a beat as he realised that he had been joined in the communal showers by none other than the man who had put him into his latest turbulent situation. Richie’s eyes were immediately caught by Carl’s meaty pecs, although his gaze soon drifted further south to where the hunk’s thick cock was already standing to attention.

“So... Do you want a taste?” the other man asked, evidently relishing his opportunity to taunt the locker room bully. Much to Richie’s shame, even without needing instruction, he dropped down onto his knees and got to work worshiping another man’s cock for the first time. Carl kept him busy for nearly an hour and even had Richie bending over for him so he could fuck the big guy’s virgin ass, all while Richie cried out in delight. It was a brand new low for him, but he also felt as if he was riding the biggest high of his life. How he would ever look himself in the mirror again though, he seriously wasn’t sure.

Each of the next three days at practice ended with Richie giving himself up to Carl, letting the hunky player treat him as if he was nothing more than a submissive twink. Carl had even remarked as such, before having a bright idea just as he was forcing Richie down onto his knees in the middle of the locker room. “I wonder…” he started, a mischievous grin spreading across his handsome face. “Richie, I want you to weigh one-hundred and twenty pounds.”

Yeah, as if that’s ever gonna-- wait, what the fuck? The burly lineman had been in the middle of scoffing at his teammate’s latest request, firm in his belief that it would be beyond the rules of whatever curse had been placed upon him, but he hadn’t even been able to finish his thought before he was overwhelmed by a sudden lightness. With some severe trepidation he looked down at his naked body and was rocked by the sight before him: all of his mass had been completely stripped away! His meaty arms and legs were now much slimmer and for the first time in almost two decades, there was no hefty gut obscuring Richie’s vision of his cock. The various tattoos that adorned his arms now seemed like an ill fit for the skinny limbs he now possessed. Even worse, Carl now absolutely towered over him, like some giant statue that demanded his worship.

It seemed his teammate wasn’t quite through with having fun at Richie’s expense either, as he followed up with yet another instruction: “Richie, you’re going to develop a muscle worshiping fetish.” Not for the first time since being cursed, the former three-hundred and twenty pound lineman desperately wished he could rebel against the instruction, but it was useless to even try. No more than a second had passed since Carl’s latest instruction had left his lips and Richie was already eyeing up the full pecs and the beautifully defined abs that were right in front of his face. Carl was even all slicked up with sweat from a hard day of practice out on the football field. The display before Richie might as well have been a three course meal; it had him drooling like the most starved man alive!

Over the course of that night Richie grew well acquainted with every part of Carl’s muscular body. He got an extended up-close experience of the hunky athlete’s bulging biceps and even his hairy armpits, which mildly humiliated Richie but also absolutely turned him on. He salivated over Carl’s six-pack abs and peppered the strong quads with kisses until his partner had finally had enough of the worship. From there, Carl had demanded that Richie present him with his cute twink ass and then the larger man had fucked him like their very lives depended on it! One thing was for certain: it was a night that Richie wouldn’t soon forget.

Mercifully, the transformation into a muscle-worshiping twink only lasted until the next morning, when he had entered the locker room swimming in clothes that were much too big for him. After summoning him into his office, the coach demanded that Richie return to his normal proportions and in an instant the twink version of Richie was replaced by his usual self. He had inquired how Richie had ended up in his transformed state but mercifully he hadn’t demanded that the football player tell him the truth, so Richie was spared from having to reveal the sexual relationship that he had developed with Carl. It only seemed like a matter of time before somebody worked out what was going on between the two, but the longer it stayed a secret, the happier Richie was. He had no doubt that his teammates would never let him forget it, especially considering how open he had been in the past about his opinion of Carl and same-sex romances in general.

While the team hadn’t been shy about making Richie the victim of a number of humiliating pranks during their practice sessions, once the football season had actually started the coach put a swift stop to it. Instead, he and the team’s quarterback Derek Carr plotted to use Richie’s curse to their advantage. Right before every snap, the quarterback ordered Richie to become the strongest man alive, and for the first few weeks of the season the lineman experienced the best games of his career. The commentators couldn’t stop talking about Richie Incognito’s miraculous increase in strength in the off-season and how he was helping to make the Raiders offense an absolutely dominating force in the league.

Unfortunately it was only a matter of time until an opposing team picked up on it and that time finally came during their week five match-up with Richie’s former team, the Buffalo Bills. Carr’s instruction had come through loud and clear but right before he could indicate for the centre to snap the ball to him, one of the Bills linebackers (Richie would later come to learn that it was Matt Milano) offered up an alternative instruction: “Hey Richie, why don’t you fall over and start crying instead?”

It all happened so fast. One second the ball was being snapped into Carr’s waiting hands, the next Richie was on the field, curled up in a ball and sobbing his eyes out like he’d been told he could never play football again. The Raiders quarterback had been sacked immediately, losing them yardage, and confused laughter echoed around the stadium as people attempted to understand what had overcome the monstrous player who had done such a good job of keeping Carr safe in the previous games. As soon as the play had been blown one of Richie’s teammates ordered him to stop crying and get back on his feet, but the sight of Milano and the rest of the Bills’ defense mocking him caused a pit to form in his stomach.

Much to his chagrin, the big man had ended up being benched for the rest of the game after that embarrassing display. As if that wasn’t humiliating enough for him, the play where he had cowardly shrunk to the floor and cried was played repeatedly on the giant screens around the stadium, with the laughter of the crowd getting louder each time. This is hell, Richie lamented. He wasn’t sure what he’d ever done to deserve such humiliation but he was going to make sure that it never happened again!

Unfortunately Richie’s vow was broken just the very next week when another player on the opposing team managed to fire off an order to Richie before the ball was snapped. This time it was Myles Garrett of the Cleveland Browns, already an intimidating player in his own right. When he ordered Richie to “become as light as a feather” though, it was clear that disaster was incoming. The moment the opposing player made contact with him, Richie sailed through the air and landed some fifteen feet back, although his landing hadn’t been quite as painful as anticipated due to his general weightlessness. The complete domination landed Richie on the bench once more and the big man could tell from the sour expression on the coach’s face that the repeat humiliation wasn’t going to be brushed off as easily as the first one had been.

Sure enough, after the team had suffered their second consecutive loss and they were lamenting their failure in the locker room, Richie was summoned into the coach’s office. Much to his surprise though, there was a third man in the room and one he had become very familiar with since the curse had been placed upon him: Carl Nassib. Immediately Richie’s heart began to race in nervous anticipation, but the coach thankfully didn’t leave him in suspense for long, as he was as straight to business as always.

“You’ve become a liability out there, Incognito. Your… special ability is one of the worst kept secrets in the league right now and it’s costing us games,” the gruff old man explained, with an almost bored expression on his face. “I can’t have that, so I’m going to be putting you on the injured reserve list.” Richie opened his mouth to argue back but was cut off by an instruction: “Don’t interrupt me. Just sit there and listen.” It infuriated Richie that he continued to have no choice but to do as he was told. Was there anything more emasculating? “I also don’t want you out in Vegas putting yourself at risk, so we’re going to place you under Carl’s watch until we manage to get this fixed. Be glad he so kindly volunteered to take you in, I don’t think I would. Now, of course, you are not allowed to argue back. Do you understand?”

Although burning with fury and despair, Richie found himself nodding. “Carl’s in charge, I got it,” he confirmed, sparing a quick glance to the hunk in the seat next to him. There was a devilish smirk already playing on Carl’s lips and Richie knew that the other was probably already concocting some devious plans. He suspected he’d be spending a lot of time transformed into the twinkified version of himself at the very least, but what else would Carl have in store for him? It was enough to send a shiver down Richie’s spine, but when his new handler ordered the cursed lineman to follow him out of the coach’s office, the big man’s cock twitched in delight. He wouldn’t be happy about it, but at least he knew he’d be taken care of sexually!

There was one final twist in the tale that was only revealed to Richie later that night when he was back in Carl’s bedroom as his twinky self and in the middle of giving the bigger man’s feet a tongue bath. “You didn’t even stop to think about how Milano and Garrett knew about your curse, did you?” Carl asked, smirking down at his new slave. “I suppose thinking has never been your strong suit, huh? It was me, Richie. I told them, because I knew that it would lead us here, right where I wanted you… and deep down, right where you know you want to be. Tell me you want this, cutie!”

Reluctantly pulling his lips away from the other man’s soles, Richie looked up at his new master and obliged: “I want this, sir!” For as long as he remained under Carl’s roof, he’d continue to want it too. Unfortunately for Richie, there was no timeline for when his curse might be broken, so it was going to be a long time before he ever saw the football field again. Well, perhaps he couldn’t be a player, but if Carl told him to then he could probably make a really cute cheerleader, or maybe even a jockstrap for his new master to wear during a game...