Tales of San Derecho: The Portrait (Part 1)
"Why do we have to hang that old portrait here, Karl?"
"We don't have much of choice, Jason. It has to hang in one of the fraternities or else the university loses a huge endowment..."
"But that old man is pretty creepy."
Karl Sanderson couldn't really disagree with his fellow fraternity brother. The portrait of the late Walter J. Truman showed a silver-bearded man of later years, dressed in a dark suit. His clear blue eyes seemed to be passing judgment on anyone who looked at him too long. He shuddered unconsciously.
"I know, but it's only temporary. A few weeks at most."
The dean of the university had been quite insistent that portrait needed to go up in Gamma Alpha Epsilon's main room. It had been one of the few things recovered from the fire that destroyed the frat house it had previously been in. That the dean had also strongly hinted that this wasn't a request that ΓΑΕ could refuse, unless it wanted to be blamed for costing the school millions of dollars in funding.
"I hope so, Karl. It's really gonna be awkward in here until it's gone."
Jason Chang looked down at his smart watch, seeing a rainbow colored alarm going off.
"Hey, we gotta get ready. The girls from Delta Iota Kappa will be here soon to duscuss our plans to protest at the Governor's speech tomorrow afternoon..."
The gay fraternity members turned and left the room, not noticing that the man in the painting's expression has grown considerably more dour. A flash of something sparkled in his cold blue eyes...
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During the meeting, someone brought up the new decoration in the ΓΑΕ house. Carl wasn't sure who, but it quickly became a very hostile topic. In particular, the president of Delta Iota Kappa, Sandra Lake, had some very choice words about the late Mr. Truman.
"That old pig was not only homophovbic but massively misogynistic! I heard they only allowed women to be awarded scholarships when he finally died!"
Carl nodded slightly, as he'd heard the stories from some of the professors over in the Social Sciences department.
"It really sucks that bastard of a Dean stuck you all with that painting. I mean, it looks like the old goat is judging us or something!"
And it was true that Truman looked out very harshly from the painting, those cold blue eyes staring at the gathered students. Of course, it was still a shock when Sandra threw her soda at the portrait, the sticky drink dripping down the glass that protected the canvas.
"Sandra!"
"What, Karl? He deserves it! Hell, the Governor deserves the same!"
After that outburst, the meeting really broke up. They all knew whst thry were doing tomorrow anyway. The fraternity members went back to their rooms, while the ΔΙΚ girls left. However, Carl escorted Sandra outside personally, as he has something to say to her.
"I get that you have real issues with the history of this university, Sandra. But I think that was a bit out of line."
"Maybe, Karl. But it sure felt good to do it though. Just like it's gonna be tomorrow at the protest!"
The frat president could only shrug in agreement. He and Sandra were very different people. He preferred to talk things out, while she was all about taking action.
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Sometime later when Karl woke up, he was surprised to find himself on the couch in the main room. His memory was fuzzy, but he swore he'd gone upstairs after his chat with Sandra. But then his eyes locked onto the portrait of Walter J. Truman, as it seemed to loom larger on the wall.
Those eyes…it's like they can see right through me…
The Midwest-born president of Gamma Alpha Epsilon shook his head. He was letting himself get spooked by a painting. Yeah, he knew that Truman had been a big mover and shaker here in San Derecho decades ago, but Sandra had had a point earlier. His time was past. So what if the university was funded by his money? That didn't mean he had to agree with the dead man's well documented bigotry against gay people.
Standing up, Karl took a long look at himself in a mirror hanging on another wall in the room. His normally well styled sandy blonde hair was a mess, a proper nest of bed head. He ran his hand through it, but his eyes suddenly noticed something was off with his clothes…
The fuck…
He was sure he'd changed into a set of old comfy pajamas, but now he was wearing a pair of oversized khaki shorts with a dark red polo shirt. The whole outfit hung loose on his thin body. He squinted a little, his vision blurry until he took off his glasses, not yet realizing his vision was now a perfect 20/20.
On the right side of the polo shirt was the Greek letters ΜΑΝ. His mind surprisingly knew it stood for Mu Alpha Nu. But there wasn't any fraternity called that on campus, right? At least, he was sorta sure there wasn't.
Suddenly, Karl felt a tightness in his stomach, and dropped to one knee. It felt like someone had slugged him out of the blue, so he lifted the polo shirt to see what had happened. His abs were now very prominent, a six pack you could grind meat on.
"This isn't right…brah…"
His panic at the sight meant when his pecs surged forward with mass, Karl was caught off guard and fell back onto the couch. Tossing and turning, his body began to swell with muscle, even as his Midwest accent began to mix with very chill "bro" lingo.
Inside Karl's mind, he was struggling with new thoughts invading his mind. Memories of wild parties slipped in as his knowledge of the law and progressive causes fell away. He was straining now to remember why that stuff was more important than hanging with his frat brothers.
"Like, duuuuude…"
As he stood up, there were several faint popping sounds from his spine, as his height climbed up almost half a foot. The polo shirt was clinging pretty tightly to his rather swole body, the khaki shorts doing nothing to hide that this BRO never missed a leg day. He looked up at the painting again, his jaw widening into a rather cocky smile.
"Wassup, old man? Like what you see?"
But those words struck him as very inappropriate, even as a joke. After all the founder of this fraternity wouldn't ever look at another man like that. EVER. Bros don't do bros!
His now tremendous feet slapped down on the floor as he turned to look around the room. On the left was a massive built-in bar, with racks of bottles and glasses.
"SWEET! Looks like we restocked after that last party…"
As a new tan settled over his skin, Carl Anderson was focused on getting himself a brewski, sliding to his usual spot in front of the frat's private bar.
His favorite pair of shades dropped over his now cool blue eyes, as the sound system sprang to life. The thumping beats began to reverberate through the whole house, and into the sleeping members of Gamma Alpha Epsilon, starting their own transformations into the brothers of Mu Alpha Nu...
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Outside of the house, the Greek letters of the fraternity that hung next to the front door were shifting in time to the beat inside from ΓΑΕ into ΜΑΝ. In the back, the fraternity's carefully maintained garden was ripped apart by brick and mortar as a huge bruck barbecue sprung up. There was a loud pop as an extra large jacuzzi dropped into place where a fountain had been. Strings of cheap lights dropped themselves across the now dryed out trees and began flashing in sync with the rhythm of the music.
Back inside, the eyes of the portrait had returned to a neutral state, almost pleased with the changes it had wrought so far. But its power wasn't limited to this building, having found another victim not to long ago...
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Sandra Lake, president of the Delta Iota Kappa sorority had taken a slightly longer walk back to their house. A trail of cigarette stubs followed the outspoken lesbian. She'd wanted to be alone for awhile, her mind on that awful portrait back at the ΓΑΕ house.
Truth be told, she'd heard a lot of rumours about it than she'd been willing talk about at the protest meeting. Like how it had passed from fraternity to fraternity, each changed by their time with it. It sounded like just some mumbo jumbo, but seeing the item in person, she somehow knew that wasn't actually the case
She shuddered slightly, not realizing that she was about to experience those rumours first hand. Her outburst earlier had drawn the portrait's attention and its influence began to work its power on her.
As she walked, Sandra's very masculine wardrobe began to change, her baggy flannel shirt and well- worn blue jeans shifting and warping into something more appropriate for her new self. The flannel became a dark pink zip-up baseball jacket while underneath, her plain white t-shirt became a hot pink crop top against which her now d-cup breasts pressed outward to command attention, where the Greek letters for Beta Alpha Epsilon were now streched across them. Her now tight low-rise jeans hugged her juicy heart-shaped rear as a black thong nestled between her full and round cheeks which peeked over her jeans.
Her hard-edged face disappeared under a layer of cosmetics that served to emphasize her plump red lips and high cheek bones. Dull brown eyes soon dazzled into clear blue. The dry brown hair she'd had trimmed into a tight buzz cut flowed outward in an explosion of shiny blonde that came down to her back. Her engineer boots began twisting themselves into a pair of black sneakers with pink accents.
Inside her mind, Sandra's thoughts of fun with other girls were being interrupted by a flood of the things she could be doing with some cute guys. She shook her to clear these strange thoughts, but only found herself returning to them. After all, this university had the hottest guys in the country, according to her fave sites on the web. She moaned a little as thoughts of those hot bods welled up from her memories, even as her various lesbian encounters faded.
Other accessories for the blonde bombshell of a sorority sister soon appeared. An old flip-phone became the latest model of Peachtree smartphone, with all sorts of bling decorating its case. Shiny gold bracelets wrapped around her wrists, as bejeweled rings slid onto her thin fingers. The tips of her pink nails were adorned with a single fake diamond.
Chewing on the bubblegum that had appeared in her mouth, Shondra Waters, the president of the soon to be formed Beta Alpha Epsilon approached the doors of the Delta Iota Kappa sorority house. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of the place before pushing her way inside.
As the doors swung closed behind her, the first insults to her once-fellow lesbians spilled out of the hyper-hetero slut's mouth and began to spread the influence of the portrait. It wouldn't be too long before this sorority became Beta Alpha Epsilon, as evidenced by the Greek letters ΔΙΚ on the sign outside of the building which began twisting into ΒΑΕ...
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The first part of a sub-series for San Derecho. It's based on some old CYOC stories I did, but reworked to fit into this world. I hope to have more in the future, as we see the transformations of others at the fraternity and the sorority. The images in this story were AI generated, but the text was not.
