Dad's Attention

Originally posted on Tumblr: December 20th 2020

 

Dylan walked into the house cleats slamming onto the floor. His football helmet was tucked under his arms as he made his way inside. The game had been brutal tonight, first of the season. Dirt and grass stains adorned his uniform. His pads only increased his domineering frame standing in the entrance area. He kicked off his shoes, letting them hit the side of the wall.

His younger brother came in behind him, wrapping him in a hug, “That was so awesome tonight! When you scored that touch down the crowd went crazy,” The high school sophomore was more than impressed by his elder brother.

“Ah, Brody it was nothing,” Dylan rubbed his younger brother’s head, but there was something he had to figure out. Their dad hadn’t come to the game at all. Dylan wondered if Dad was on another date. That guy really liked sleeping around. While Brody went to look for dinner leftovers, Dylan charged upstairs.

When he got to his father’s room he quietly knocked before peeking inside. In the room Dylan spotted his father lying on his bed clothes with the twins, and his baby brother Jonah. There was a story book and chess board laying out on the bed as well. They must have passed out enjoying their night. The elder brother quietly closed the door, frowning.

He made his way to his room, forgoing dinner.

—

The next morning, Mr. Williamson came staggering down the steps shaking off the last remnants of sleep. Breakfast wafting in the air called him downstairs. The empty bed he woke up on was the sign he was the last one to know.

Standing in the kitchen was Dylan whipping up some eggs, while Brody set the table and the other 3 boys, Tucker, Karter and Jonah sat at the table. Karter, ever the troublemaker, snuck away trying to steal a biscuit. Before his hand could snatch one up a spatula swatted him. Dylan stood eyes ablaze.

“Dad’s plate first. You know this.” Dylan said through gritted teeth.

“Ow that really hurt.” Karter rubbed his hand. “I could have told you that would happen.” Tucker snorted. Karter whimpered, taking his seat again as he locked eyes with Jonah. His younger brother looked scared.

“Doesn’t hurt that much, see?” Karter waved his hand around showing he was fine. Still Jonah’s face didn’t liven.

“This is why people don’t like 14-year olds.” Brody stated, finished with the table and sat down himself. “You guys don’t listen.”

“You were 14, 2 years ago,” Tucker cut back. Brody ignored him as Dylan started setting food on the table. That’s when their dad came in smiling at his boys. He sat down hoping to join in on the jovial nature. But when he saw Dylan, his heart sank.

“Oh my god, the game last night!” He smacked his forehead. “I’m so sorry son. The boys and I were hanging out and after work too I guess I just ended up falling asleep.”

“It’s fine dad. Really.” Dylan was used to this. Not that he wanted to be. He had 4 brothers and only 1 dad. Though that was too be expected. Dylan knew his father, Mr. Williamson, had a wandering dick. The man was nice and charming and that always disarmed the ladies. However, their dad was so virile if he didn’t wear a condom the girls would always end up pregnant. That’s how he got saddled with five kids.

Dylan, finished setting the food, sat and looked around the table his brothers. All of them looked like their father with just a few qualities as their mothers. That’s right, no one, but the twins had the same mother. Just a result of their stud father sowing his oats in the town. Of course, most of the women ended up shoving the baby onto dad. Mr. Williamson started taking food as Dylan watched. Their father was a stud, but he was also very naïve. The thing is Mr. Williamson was like a dumb jock who never got out of high school. That’s why women could pawn things off on him so easily. It’s not to say Dylan thought his father was immature or douchey like certain high school jocks, but Mr. Williamson just seemed so innocent in other ways

Once Mr. Williamson had his plate, the 5 brothers tore in grabbing food. Hands went flying as they battled for who got what. No one was dumb enough to challenge Dylan or his status as the oldest as he picked everything he wanted. Brody, however, had no such luck as the remaining 3 brothers happily went for food he wanted.

After breakfast, the brothers sat around the living room watching a movie. Only Brody and Karter were seriously watching. Dylan was texting friends on his phone, while Tucker scrolled his computer, and Jonah played quietly with his toys on the floor. Their father came down the steps dressed in casual clothes. He smiled and twirled around.

“How do I look boys?” He asked the young males in the room. No one’s eyes looked up.

“You look good dad. You always look good.” Dylan started typing away at his phone.

Their father put his hands on his hips, “Guess my sons all grew eyes in the back of their heads. Or maybe they became psychics.” There was a shared groan among the boys. How often had they heard that joke?” Dylan turned around, eyed his father and shot a thumbs up.

“Anyone else?” Their father asked.

Tucker typed on his keyboard, “We all know you have a lunch date dad, and we all know she’s going to like you.”

“Aw, thanks kids!” He started towards the door.

“Don’t sleep with her!” Dylan shouted, invested in his phone once again.

“Bye kids,” Mr. Williamson chuckled, closing the door.

Once he was gone, Dylan sat up putting his phone away. He went upstairs and retrieved his football. Upon coming back down he asked, “Anyone want to come to the park with me and some friends?” It was a resounding “No” in response. Dylan pouted, heading for the door. Although they all had their dad’s genes and would be blessed with good genetics, Dylan was the only brother who got the athletic bug. Brody worked out, but sports were not his thing. Everyone else was even more of a lost cause.  He reached for the front doorknob but turned around.

“Oh, Karter don’t think I forgot about this morning.”  With that Dylan left the house.

“What’s his deal?” Karter asked looking at everyone else. Only receiving shrugs from Brody and Tucker in return. Jonah on the other hand didn’t seem too happy.

“Aren’t you scared?” Jonah asked.

“About what?” Karter stated.

“That Dylan’s going to get rid of you like he said he did to Trent.” Jonah said.

Karter busted out laughing holding his sides, “You actually believe that story? Man, that’s hilarious! I forgot how gullible little kids are,” He wiped a tear from his eye still smiling, “Dylan just says stuff like that to scare us.”

“Dylan said he really did it!” Jonah stopped moving his toy cars. “Dylan said, Brody and he had another brother between them when they were young, but he was being a pain, so Dylan got rid of him.”

“Oh jeez. Guess I have to explain it,” Karter looked at his other brothers, who were disinterested in the conversation happening. “There was never any other brother. Don’t you think Brody would know?” Karter kicked Brody’s shoe, but all he got was a ‘shh’ in return. “And Trent? Come on, he just took Uncle Trent’s name and used it for that stupid story.”  

“So, it was a lie?” Jonah asked

“Though he looks mean Dylan wouldn’t hurt a fly. That’s probably why he needs to tell such ridiculous stories to scare us into behaving.” Karter admitted.

“When have you ever behaved?” Tucker joked form behind his laptop screen. “Though he’s not wrong. I’ve never known Dylan to get violent.”

“I have, once.” Brody answered eyes still fixed on the movie.  “When we were little, someone was making fun of dad and Dylan just lost it. I’ve never seen him do that again.”

“Why does Dylan get all butthurt when it comes to dad?” Karter asked. “Do you guys think Dylan is like gay… for dad?”

“Dude don’t be gross,” Brody said throwing a pillow at Karter. His younger brother caught it laughing.

“Oh, that’s right you’re the only one with the crush.” Karter held up the pillow, “Oh Dylan you’re so cool kiss me,” Karter made out with the pillow.

“I do not like Dylan…like that.” Brody started. “I’ve been with girls!”

“Then why are you always praising him?” Karter asked. “Anymore praise you’ll be stuffed up his ass.”

“Fuck you!” Brody jumped onto Karter and the two ended up rolling on the file. Tucker slammed his laptop shut. “Guys stop playing around. If Brody is bi or gay, he’ll tell us eventually, right?”

Brody got up fixing his shirt and laying on the couch, He went back to watching the movie. “Yeah, whatever.”

Later that day, Dylan walked back into his home, carrying shopping bags to find the living room vacant, except for Karter passed out on the couch. Where the hell was everybody else? He tapped Karter’s foot waking him. The younger boy’s eyes wandered until he found Dylan looming over him.

“Where’d everyone go?” Dylan spread his arms out.

“Dad’s still out on his date. Brody went to hang out with friends, Tucker went to the Library and Jonah had soccer practice, so his friend’s mom took them.” Karter stretched out trying to wake his body up.

“Well come on upstairs I got you something,” Dylan shook the shopping bag running upstairs.  Karter was never one to turn down free things. The young teen hopped off the couch and bolted up the steps after his brother. Dylan was sitting in Tucker and Karter’s room, his weight of his body, weight down Karter’s bed.

“Get your fat ass off my bed.” Karter said playfully.

“Nah I don’t think I will. “Dylan had a hand rested on his hip, using his feet to take off his shoes. “I want to remember this place is all.” He smiled a bit sadly. Then Dylan lay back on Karter’s bed, folding his hands behind his head. The football jock was several sizes too big, his legs hanging over the edge.

“Dude, get up. You’ll get you stench all over it.” Karter tried to push his brother. A fruitless endeavor like trying to move a giant cinderblock. Karter fell right onto his brother’s great chest.  Pressed in between Dylan’s pecs, Karter started to cry.

“Come on, don’t cry. You won’t need to worry about this bed much longer.” Dylan rubbed the back of Karter’s head comforting the boy. Though Karter was a big jokester, he was also a crybaby. Classic case of person can’t take what they dish out. Karter calmed down as he rested on his older brother’s chest. He listened to Dylan’s strong heart beats. How long had it been since he hung out with Dylan alone? Sure, Dylan talked to them and was close to Brody, but did any of them know Dylan well? Their Dad seemed to be the only person in the house Dylan constantly gave a shit about. Karter realized maybe he had messed up. That’s probably why Dylan wouldn’t get out of his bed. This was payback.

“Hey, Dylan I’m sorry about this morning.”

Dylan simply replied with “Yeah, I know.” Still rubbing Karter’s head. “I probably took it too far, that’s why I got you a gift.” Dylan reached over and pulled up the shopping bags he’d been carrying earlier. A special paper bag from the gentlemen’s Wearhouse dedicated to fancy suits and expensive clothing. It was the one people always stated the private school kids went to for their uniforms.

Karter dove into the bags. In the first, a pair of brown leather shoes with tanned diamond pattern socks. He dove into the next bag; it was a nicely folded suit with even a belt added. The last bag contained a pink dress shirt, a tie, and underwear. Dylan pulled out the socks, tossing them into the bag with the shirt.

“Here, try this on.” He presented the bag. Dylan sat up and walked out the room. He closed the door, and leaned against the railing, waiting for his brother to appear.

“I feel stupid.” Karter said, “opening the door. The dress shirt’s sleeves were over hanging over his hands. No doubt it was several sizes too large, fitting like a night gown on Karter’s skinny frame. His socks also seemed ridiculous coming way too far up his legs.

“I think you got the wrong size.” Karter looked over himself. “I look like a clown.”

“I did not get the wrong size; it’s something you can grow into. Besides, I think you look cute.” Dylan rubbed his brother’s head. ” Now go in there take the shirt off and put it back on.”

“What?”

“Trust me.” Dylan said, shushing his brother and pushing him back through the bedroom door. He leaned forward, listening. The sounds of Karter’s feet pattering across the floor became solid and louder movements. Karter headed back towards the door.

“Still doesn’t exactly fit.” Karter said messing with the cuffs, as he stepped back out. Dylan smiled proudly watching his brother.

“Seems better than before.” Dylan stated.

The dress shirt no longer covered Karter’s upper thighs. The teen had gone through a growth spurt since he shut the door. His socks now comfortably encased his feet. Karter was dealing with some clunkers. Dylan knew the saying about big feet. That’s why he bought the special men’s underwear to give that extra support. Judging by the lump that kept growing in Karter’s new pair, Dylan’s decision was right.

“Okay, go try the pants on,” Dylan patted his brother on the back, noticing a round ass was forming.

Karter disappeared feeling good about himself.

Dylan crossed his arms and tapped his left foot on the floor. He could wait. All he needed was a little patience.

A moan erupted from the other side of the door, “FUCKKKKKK!”   Karter’s voice blatantly reveled in a rich bass it had never had before. Cracking the door, Dylan peeked inside. Karter’s hands were roaming over his body.

Dylan held back his laugh and put on his serious face, “Get out here!” He barked with a command in his voice, it scared Karter!”

“I was just…just,” Karter put his head down and walked out.

When he met Dylan outside, Karter didn’t notice he was standing taller than his older brother. Dylan traced his knuckles along Karter’s jaw. “You’re going to need to start shaving soon. Men like you in their 40’s have lots of testosterone flowing through them.”  Karter’s fly was unfasted as his cock and balls rested on the open flaps; the belt was in Karter’s right hand. Dylan reached forward and cupped Karter’s package. He fondled it around, jiggling the balls. “Nice and heavy, bet these’ll give you some nice kids.”

Karter laughed, “I can’t have kids I’m only…” His voice trailed off.

Dylan raised an eyebrow waiting for an answer.

“40,” Karter answered proudly. “Guess I am old enough.” He said unsure. “But I’m your little brother. How can I be 40?”

“Are you my little brother?” Dylan asked. “There’s nothing little about this,” he traced Karter’s soft cock, then stuffed the package into the suit, zipping the fly. While Karter’s brain spun wheels for answers that wouldn’t come, Dylan walked around appraising him. The seat of Karter’s pants had filled out nicely. Dylan grabbed a whole chunk of the ass. Nice solid muscle.

Playing with Karter’s ass, Dylan spoke. “Hey, did I ever tell you the story about our brother Trent. Like the full version.” Although he was shorter now, not by much, he whispered it to Karter. Dylan slipped the belt out of Karter’s hands and began putting it on form behind bringing their bodies closer together.

“Trent was always such a fucking little shit. The thing is Dad and I were great before he joined us. It had just been us too before his mother decided to dump him off on us. However, Trent was an attention seeker. He constantly kept calling for dad to come look at his stupid tricks, He never respected any of the rules I laid down like not disturbing dad when he’s asleep. Then Brody came along, dropped off by his mother. No doubt Tent’s mother gave her the idea. At least Brody understood the rules. Though Brody always did have a brother complex for me. However, Trent just got worse he started acting up in school, getting suspended.” Dylan shoved the belt through the final loop and buckled it. He didn’t pull away instead he used his strong arms to pull Karter in closer.

“What did you do?’ Karter asked, dazed.

Dylan smiled on Karter’s back. “I took some of Dad’s old clothes and asked Trent to put them on. If he wanted to cause trouble like an adult why not be one. Then he started changing. It started with his legs.” Dylan brough his hands over Karter’s thighs, “Then his chest expanded,” unfastening two buttons, Dylan slipped his hand to run over Karter’s abs. “And geez his freaking ass.” Dylan’s hand shoved its way into Karter’s pants rubbing the material of the underwear.

“You’re a sexy older man Karter,”

The man being felt up blinked, “Karter, who’s Karter? My name’s Karrington. Leonard Karrington.”

“That’s quite the name you’ve got. Sound like money.” Dylan bit the man’s ear, who moaned softly in return. “I think you still have some growing to do. How about you put on the rest of your clothes. The man, who had taken Karter’s place stepped back into the room, closing the door.

Barely a minute passed, when a loud crashed bellowed. Dylan opened the door. Sitting on the floor was Leonard Karrington. He had broken Karter’s bed support from trying to sit on it. No surprise the man’s muscles grew more once he had the full set on. His calves and thighs had his pants drawn taut all around him. Any bigger his arms would shred through the coat jacket.

Dylan strutted over, the only thing that stood out was the tie laying untied across his neck. The man stood up knowing he was about to be inspected. Ridiculous to the outside world; A grown man submitting to a teenager’s will. Though it was not absurd to them. Karter had morphed into a work of art, Dylan’s work of art. Reaching out Dylan began doing the man’s tie for him. As he did Leonard’s chest became more pronounced. Dylan had to unfasten the top three buttons before they popped off.  Looking Leonard over Dylan decided to leave the tie undone to give this man a sexy appeal.

A phone started to ring. Both males noticed it was coming from Leonard’s pockets. Leonard picked up the phone eyeing the caller ID. “It’s my wife.” He sounded unsure. Cautiously he answered. His stressed face relaxed as he spoke with the woman on the phone. He even shared a few laughs.

“Where am I?” He repeated the question his wife had asked. Leonard looked around the childish room until his eyes landed on Dylan again. Then as if thumbing his nose, he asked, “Excuse me young man where is this?”

“You’re in my house.” Dylan stated.

Leonard hung up his phone, hoping his wife didn’t hear that. What was he doing in this young man’s house? Certainly, wasn’t of the standard form the common social circle he found himself in “How did I get here?” He asked.

Dylan shrugged as if complete clueless, “I thought you were expecting something.”

“Young man, I’m not gay.” And though Lenard never said it, he would never sleep with someone who’s clothing so blatantly revealed their income status.

“Then maybe I was expecting something,” Dylan wrapped an arm around Lenard and rubbed his collar. “You were teasing me with that cock and ass of yours.” Dylan grounded their hips together.

Leonard wanted to say no, to reject this young man, but he also did feel a compulsion towards him. As if his whole body couldn’t help but surrender to whatever this boy said.

“I gotta pick up my kids,” Leonard managed to say. Came out more like a chant, or plea to ward Dylan off.

Dylan released his grasp. “So, you have a family?”

Leonard nodded. Dylan walked the man down to the front door. Swinging it, open Dylan gestured outside, “You better go see your family.” Leonard flushed nervously brushed pass. The man mumbled a thank you and bolted to his car waiting for him. As it was the only car that shouted “expensive” on the common suburban street, Leonard had no trouble finding it.

“And stay the hell away from mine.” Dylan said to himself, waving as Leonard drove off.

—

4 kids were a lot to deal with. What better display of this was there than at the dinner table. Everyone arguing over who should get what. Mr. Williamson had ordered takeout and that was free for all. Not even Dylan’s status meant anything during these glorious nights. Him vs his 3 brothers

Two weeks had passed since Karter had disappeared. No one noticed. How could they? When Karter ceased to be, his bed disappeared along with his clothing and everything else he owned. Now all that existed was Leonard Karrington. One of the richest men in the state. More importantly Leonard didn’t register the Williamson family on his radar at all. Except for the tiny fact he may have picked up the eldest son for reasons unknow. Dylan smiled to himself. Maybe, just maybe 3 brothers were the answer. This group seemed to understand their place, and their father had even more time now that he never had to be bothered by the class clown.

After dinner, Dylan was washing plates, when his dad walked in looking to grab a beer. “So, Dad you’re coming to my game on Friday, right?”

Mr. Williamson scratched his head. “You know I would son, but it’s an away game and Jonah has a soccer game that day too.”

Dylan put down the plate he was currently rinsing. “You’d rather go to Jonah’s game then mine? They’re little kids they don’t even know what they’re doing half the time.”

Setting down his beer, Mr. Williamson gave his son a stern look, “Enough with the attitude. You’re 18 years old. Going to college next year. You won’t get far if you keep acting so spoiled. It’s time to grow up. You can’t always get what you want.” Mr. Williamson walked out sipping his beer.

Dylan washed the next plate. He didn’t get angry or yell. Because his dad was right. Someone needed to do some growing up. Then things would be better. His dad was just confused about who.

Sunday morning, Dylan woke up to find Jonah playing with his toys. Both were still in their pajamas. A pair of shorts for Dylan, a onesie for Jonah. Dylan crouched beside his baby brother, hands behind his back. “Hey little dude, having fun?”  held his favorite toy, a 16-wheeler truck, in his hand while pretending to ram it through a toy blockade.

“Can I play too?” Dylan asked. Jonah nodded, none of his brothers ever wanted to play with him. Jonah handed Dylan a motorcycle missing a rider. Dylan studied it intrigued,

“That can be you.” Jonah smiled. “I’ll be the truck.”

“No truck driver is complete without his hat, right?” Dylan said pulling a pristine blue and white cap from behind his back. The words ‘Heavy Load’ were written across the front in bold thick letters. Dylan plopped the cap right onto Jonah’s head. The cap was so big it ended up going over his eyes.

“That looks perfect. Now you’re a real trucker.” Dylan pulled out his cell phone, “I got to take a photo to commemorate this.” Jonah smiled, holding up the hat. The flash went off, causing Jonah to rub his eyes afterwards.

Looking up from his phone Dylan watched as Jonah began scratching his arms. The boy pulled up his sleeves scratching every so often, not noticing the thick dark hairs that began to sprout. Dylan relaxed on the floor, stretching out excited to see the show. As if following Dylan’s example, Jonah’s body began to grow when the younger brother laid down. The boy was explaining how his world of pretend worked.

Dylan didn’t hear a single word of it; he was too mesmerized. Jonah, while running his mouth had shot up to Dylan’s height. Each boy’s head was aligned with the other’s feet. Though Jonah’s transformation was nowhere near complete. He had only grown in height and was a skinny young man still wearing his onesie, though his limbs far outstretched them. Dylan simply reached over and grabbed one of Jonah’s longer legs, inspecting it. For now, they look like chicken legs but that wouldn’t last long. Jonah was sporting size 15 feet. Enormous and getting hairier every minute.

He did an older brother type of thing and tickled Jonah’s feet. Jonah, now a skinny young man laughed, writhing on the floor. As he chuckled his balls dropped as his voice sunk into a deep bass. That didn’t make Dylan let up.  He watched as Jonah’s cock started to join in on the fun lengthening to a size worth an adult. Dylan spread Jonah’s legs open and watched as, his brother’s nut’s swelled and his cock grew. The whole package became quite obscene in his bedtime onesie. Whatever was behind that fabric was painstakingly rated R.

Jonah farted while Dylan had his legs spread open. Waving the air, Dylan said “Truckers sure are gassy.”

“I’m sorry it just—” A loud blech erupted form Jonah’s lips cutting off his apology. His face went red. He could feel another set of gas building up inside of him.

“Don’t be embarrassed dude. Truckers are on the road alone for so long I’m sure you’re just use to it.” Dylan stated. What he said sounded right to Jonah. But Jonah also didn’t want to let out another one of those rank farts with his brother in the room. Unable to find a way out the gas rumble through his body. Grabbing at his chest Jonah tried to settle the gas within in him.  Not only that, but Jonah’s body felt trapped in saran wrap. The clothes he had on were too restrictive for his adult body.  His zipper started to come down as his chest, as a few strands of chest hair poked out.

The gas trapped inside of Jonah still had no way out and caused Jonah to swell up. His arms thickened, bulging through his sleeves. Chest hair erupted over him, making his natural body odor just as smelly as his farts. Jonah’s hairy pecs pushed themselves out of the onesie, forcing the zipper down. The chest was too big to keep contained. Each pec developed into a solid state of muscle.

Dylan put down Jonah’s legs and leaned forward to pull the onesie back and reveal all of Jonah’s furry man tits, especially the nipples. As Dylan handled the pecs, they grew in size adding muscle and fat, pushing out and up. He tweaked the tiny nipples and Jonah moaned biting a finger. The nips expanded onto huge bottle size ones fit for nursing.

“Got some great pecs, man,” Dylan shook ant watched as the beef jiggled.

“Yeah, they are some pretty big knockers. Aren’t they?” Jonah chuckled. He had the best rack around. Sure, it was a little hairy and there was unfortunately no milk, but people love it anyway. Men always found their way to his nips begging him to spare some milk. At the thought of the memories Jonah’s pecs swelled again in Dylan’s cupped embrace. Jonah’s lats and delts expanded in an effort to keep up with his chest. The onesie sipper came down more.

Sitting between Jonah’s legs, Dylan loomed over. The 18-year-old had a hand over his mouth as he took in the transformation happening right in front of him. The gas had still not escaped. Jonah managed to get on his knees, before his ass enlarged, sending rips on the onesie. Finally, the gas, with nowhere left to go, settled in his stomach. A large pouch popped out of the onesie destroying the zipper.

His belly hung down to the ground like a beach ball. A pure muscle gut that quaked with power. Jonah was helpless to do anything as his chest hair grew down his abs forming a treasure trail. The hair continued to grow out over taking his belly leaving him with a thick rug. But it didn’t stop Jonah’s balls and cock soon found themselves warmed by the thick pubic hair that grew. Jonah’s legs wobbled as he fell. Thankfully his stomach met the ground before his face did.

Dylan flipped Jonah over once again, once again situated between his legs. Jonah’s legs had finally gotten the memo and thickened with a set of hair to top it off. Unable to take any more of this transformation, Jonah’s onesie exploded. The entire constitution of the fabric gave up at once and turned itself into tatters on the floor.

The underwear Jonah had on were nothing more than thongs at this point: his horse cock and bull balls hanging out in the open, kept warm by his furry thighs.

“I have to give it to you Jon, you’re massive.” Dylan dug into the tiny underwear, pulling it from between the ass cheeks.

“Who’s Jon?” The man asked laid on the floor.

“You are.” Dylan pulled on the front of the underwear; the colorful images disappeared becoming pure white. ‘Jon’ failed to mention anything about Dylan bundling his cock and balls inside a now larger pair of briefs.

“No, it’s not. Ya know good and well ma name.” A strong southern voice came out of the man’s mouth.

“What’s you name then?”

“Alright smart ass you know ma name is…” The man blinked. The words he were looking for had left his head. Dylan pursed his lips, hiding a smile.

“What is ma name?” Jon scratched his head.

“You’re Jon. Jon the trucker. You needed a place to stay last night, and my family let you sleep here.” Dylan answered not missing a beat.

Jon looked around at the toys scattered on the floor. “What in tarnation is this? The kids room?” He picked up a toy truck lying on the floor. “This looks just like my baby…’cept for the plastic.”

“What, don’t like it?” Dylan held out his hand, as Jonah plopped the toy in it.

“Pshhh, this is for little boys. Do I look like a little boy to you?” The man flexed on the floor.

Dylan patted Jon’s crotch. “Trust me you certainly do not.” Then he let his hands roam over the trucker’s body. “A man like you doesn’t need his dad watching over him.”

Jon sat up, “Ma pah hasn’t got in ma business since I was about yea high.” He held his had a few feet from the ground. “Look at me kid, I’m a massive bear of a man. Why would I want to be a youngin’?”  Jon stood up to his 6’8 barrel chested frame almost stumbling over. Dylan grabbed his arm, keeping him up right.

“You’re like a newborn.” Dylan smirked.

“Nah kid, I just stood up too fast.” He said brushing the comment aside. Dylan helped walk him out of the room. Jon meanwhile asked himself questions like, when did he put on an open flannel shirt?

Mr. Williamson came out of the bathroom in his blue boxer-briefs, He caught Dylan leading Jon downstairs. Dylan’s dad yawned pointed to Jon, “Did I fuck you last night? you look familiar.” Curious to if his cock had led him to dragging home a man last night. He wasn’t gay but when he got drunk…things happened.

Dylan rolled his eyes, “No you didn’t dad. you invited him to sleep the night.”

“Oh yeah.” Mr. Williamson scratched his ripped body just above his pubes. “Sorry about that. Looks like you’re leaving though.”

“Gotta get on my way.” Jon leaned over shaking Mr. Williamson’s hand, neither man knowing where the jeans Jon hand on came from, or the open flannel shirt he was sporting. Dylan budged him down the steps.”

“Geez kid. I’m going. Wha, ya trying to get rid me?’ Jon chuckled.

“Something like that.” Dylan let Jon walk out the door, not caring if the man knew where to find his truck or not.

—

Friday’s game was awesome. Dylan could see his dad clapping from the stands, sitting next to his brothers. Maybe 2 brothers was the right formula. Neither interfered with his time with dad. Unfortunately , Dylan couldn’t enjoy it because he had to drive his brothers home while his dad went on a late date.

It was booty call as the boys pointed out and reminded him to wear a condom. He laughed walking off.

By the time he stumbled back into the house everyone, but Dylan was asleep in the living room. Dylan got up and helped his drunk father back into the house. They walked upstairs to Mr. Williamson’s bedroom.

Dylan tapped his dad on the side. “Please tell me you wore a condom at least.”

“Honestly I can’t even think straight right now.” Mr. Williamson groggily pratted on until Dylan flipped on the TV to shut him up. The two laid in the king-sized bed watching as Dylan flipped through the channels. They came about a news station interviewing a politician. Apparently, he was addressing why he got so passionate at the human rights rally.

Mr. Williamson had drifted off to sleep as the interview went on. Dylan on the other hand couldn’t take his eyes off the screen.

“Wow, “ Dylan ran his hand over his jaw. “So, that’s Justin now.” The clip from the rally played again. The politician could be seen with a massive man standing beside him. Dylan turned to his sleeping dad, “Looks like little George makes on hell of a bodyguard, right?” he laughed.

“Gotta hand it to you dad, you don’t play around when making kids. They all grow up to be some huge fuckers. I wonder how the others are doing.” Dylan eyes flew form the screen to the bedroom door as he spotted movement. Hopping out of bed he rushed to find Tucker standing on the other side.

“Need something?” Dylan asked pointedly. This was his alone time with dad. His brothers should have known better than to interfere with that.

“I just wanted to say goodnight. To you and dad.” Tucker stated.

“Dad’s already passed out for the night.” Dylan said.

“Oh,” Tucker seem to deflate, “but if he’s asleep who were you talking to? Was that guy on TV our cousin or something?”

Dylan cursed his luck. This is why his brothers were supposed to keep their asses away. Then it came to him. He needed to get rid of this problem. Tucker was too smart for his own good and would probably put something together. Even if the kid couldn’t prove it, Dylan didn’t need anyone like that around.  Besides with him out of the way that was even more time with dad.

“Dude come to my room for a sec.” Dylan flew by Tucker.

Tucker cautiously stepped into his older brother’s room. There wasn’t any divide between Dylan’s or Brody’s stuff. There were dumbbells and workout gear scattered across the floor. His brothers never let him into their room. There were athletes posted along the walls, no doubt Dylan’s will. A body-length mirror on the far wall. Probably so his brothers could watch their biggest vanity projects; their bodies.

At the moment, Dylan was crouched digging through his dresser. He shuffled through shirts and shorts until he shouted “Ah-HA!” Turning around he tossed a package to Tucker. The teen fumbled catching it.

Tucker stared at the package and the brightly lit product inside, “This is underwear.” He stated

“No doy,” Dylan said. He walked over to his brother, “But these are super exercising underwear.” He tapped his finger on the package.

“Why would you get me this?” Tucker asked.

“I actually got it for myself but thought giving it to you might inspire you to start working out.” Dylan Flexed for his younger bro. “Don’t you want to get ripped?”

Tucker started to say not really but the look on Dylan’s face relayed that wasn’t the answer. Tucker settled for a shrug.  “I don’t know Dylan. Working out is really your guy’s thing. I like doing homework and stuff.”

“Just try them on. I promise you won’t even be thinking about homework.” Dylan stated.

The teen wanted the conversation to be over, so he gave in. Whenever the topic switched to him and exercise, he hated it. When would people understand he was a homebody and like being that way? People relied on him for his brain not athletic ability. He walked to the bathroom putting the dumb underwear on. They were way too big. Tucker pulled up his pants and walked back to Dylan’s room.

“These don’t fit.” He stated.

“Of course, they don’t. You got to grow into them.” Dylan replied back. “And the best way to do that is by putting on some muscle. That’ll help fill you out.” He reached on to the floor grabbing a dumbbell.

Muscle? Tucker was pretty sure he’d need more than just that to fit the underwear. Dylan plopped into the boys and Tucker sunk with the weight, until Dylan helped him lift it. The older brother showed him how to curl his arm. They walked over to the mirror; Dylan crouched behind his brother.

“Look in the mirror make sure you got your form right.” Dylan helped his brother curl his arms. Tucker grunted as Dylan helped less, and the young teen was forced to lift the weight back up. Sweat started to pour down his head. He thought about stopping, but he didn’t want to give up just yet. His arms started to inflate with muscle. Tucker stared into the mirror watching muscles pack on. A smile crossed Tucker’s lips he could be hot.

“Now squats,” Dylan barked out.

Immediately Tucker dropped, feeling his legs burn as he stood back up. He wasn’t used to this. Blood rushed through his body. A feeling of adrenaline he never experienced before. His muscles ached to be used and worked out.  Dylan corrected Tucker’s posture as he squatted back down.

“Stick, your ass out a bit more, you want your glutes to burn.”  Dylan stated.

Tucker did as instructed, and his ass started to grow. When the boy went to stand back up, He shot up to 6 ft only 2 inches shorter than Dylan. Tucker was too far gone staring at his reflection to question what had happened. He wanted to know how he could become even more of a stud. Dylan snatched the dumbbells from him.

“Hey!” he reached out for him, but Dylan held up a finger. “These are for light weights, but you don’t want to be a light weight, do you?” Tucker shook his head to the question. He wanted to be as ripped as possible. Why had he waited so long to work out? Dylan cocked his head over to a barbell sitting the floor.

“Go get it,” Dylan whispered. Tucker rushed over, bringing the barbell back, so he could stare at himself in the mirror. He began to deadlift the barbell without even being told. Dylan grinned; this was going better than expected. There were 50-pound weights on either side, that Tucker dragged into the air, arms shaking. Dylan walked over helping his brother with the first few reps.

As Tucker lifted his body grew stronger, chest ripping through his shirt. Arms hulking out, Dylan backed up to get a good view. The mind is a powerful thing; too bad the more Tucker lifted the dumber he became. Slowly his smarts dripped away converted into much more useful muscle. Staring at his cocky smile Tucker screamed from inside his head. He could no longer control is body. His thoughts were at war with each other, he wanted to become a sexy stud, but old Tucker was already tired.

The new jock forming told Tucker to take a backseat if he couldn’t enjoy the grind. Tucker panicked; his own thoughts were arguing with him. How was that possible? He tried to muster the energy to scream for his brother’s help. Instead, it came out as a roar as he deadlifted the barbell again.

“Hell, yeah man,” Dylan grabbed Tucker’s shirt and helped rip it all the way off. Now Tucker could stand bare chested, getting a good view of the mounds he was making. Tucker set down the barbell, too in love with how he looked. He struck a pose. His mind kept repeating he was a kid, that he shouldn’t look this. However, the new confident voice said Fuck that! what kind of kid had a body like a Greek god. He was hot young man. Forget school, forget homework and papers. All the new Tucker wanted to do you was work out his biceps.

His eyes flitted over to Dylan. He was bigger and older than his stud brother. He rolled his head back, “Damn, I’m perfect.”

Dylan walked up behind Tucker, “Not yet.” He wrapped his arms around Tucker’s body and began feeling the man up. His hands cupped Tucker’s pecs. “These could be bigger.”

“Yah.” Tucker whimpered as Dylan groped at the chest and the pecs enlarged under his grasp. Dylan’s hands slid down running over Tucker’s, abs causing them to become more pronounced. With a massage of the arms another layer of muscle was added. Dylan ran his hands down Tucker’s back, and the shoulder blades spread-out more as the mass increased, giving one hell of a wingspan.

Dylan slipped his hands into the back of Tucker’s pants. “Gotta say Chuck, you look great.” The man didn’t even register the change in his name instead he leaned back onto the younger male. With a squeeze, Dylan inspected both ass cheeks measuring the thickness. Hid hand wondered to the front while his free hand stroked the man’s stomach. “That’s a good boy.” Dylan nibbled on is ear, while his free unfasted the jeans and cupped Chuck’s package. Heat radiated as it was still in the process of growing. Dylan held Chuck closer; he got such a kick out of creating alpha men.

Chuck’s brain drained while his balls filled up with alpha seed. He was rocked in Dylan’s arms.

“That’s it, keep growing, my big dumb boy.” Dylan said.

“I’s dumb?” Chuck asked.

“Very dumb, but that doesn’t matter you know all about exercising and feeding you muscles. That’s how you became a big mindless body builder.” Dylan shook one of Chuck’s pecs and gave a hard grope to the nuts that broke out of his grasp. The football star stood Chuck back up and pulled down his pants. Now his body perfectly fit the bright blue bodybuilder poser trunks perfectly.

Almost.

Dylan helped Chuck stepped out of the pants, A bit of a challenge with his shoes still on. As Chuck stepped out, his feet ripped out of his shoes. His toes wiggled free as fat sausages. The pants flew across the room, once Dylan flung them. Finally, free of his clothing, Chuck’s body delivered new muscle. Dylan slapped Chuck’s ass, and it echoed through the room. The trunks sunk into the growing ass cheeks. Chuck’s shoes reshaped themselves over his feet, becoming ankle top shoes.

Chuck the bodybuilder was born. His muscles were as big as his head was empty. Tucker had traded his brains for brawn. Nothing but a big muscled dumb-dumb.

—

1 was the answer. 1 brother had to be the answer. Dylan knew his dad’s schedule had to be clear with all the distractions out the way. He laid on the couch while Brody laid down on the opposite sofa. How many weeks had it been since Chuck strolled out their door? Didn’t matter anyway Dylan had his dad all too himself, after all Brody was more of a big brother hero worshiper.

Mr. Williamson came into the house with a happy grin on his face. He didn’t even care his boys were cooped up on such a beautiful Saturday afternoon. “Boys, I got some news. Deborah is pregnant.” His voice was guilt ridden as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“No way dad!” Brody jumped up and hugged his father, “That’s awesome. Are you two getting married?”

“S-she’s pregnant?” Dylan stammered, “You didn’t wear a condom.” His voice came out very accusatory, “Dad, you know you get women pregnant easily. Why would you do that?”

“Hey, I don’t like your tone,” Mr. Williamson pointed a finger at Dylan. “Who I sleep with and what we do is my business.” Then his voice got softer. “It’s just the condom broke and she said she was on the pill but apparently it didn’t take.”

Dylan raised his hands in defeat, “Well we know how this story goes. She’ll have the baby. Then come to you, find out you don’t have endless money, then dump the kid on us.” He fell back onto the couch.

“Just because that happened once, doesn’t mean all the women I sleep with are like that.” Mr. Williamson’s eye flew to Brody. He wished Dylan hadn’t been so careless with his words, though Brody looked unfazed. “Also, we are not getting married, we’ll see how it goes.” Mr. Williamson went upstairs changing his clothes. Coming back down he asked, “Anyone want to go for a jog?”

Dylan ignored him, while Brody declined. Brody mouthed that’d he’d handle Dylan’s mood before his dad got back. Their father nodded, running out.

“So, we’re going to be big brothers, feel good?” Brody asked.

Dylan shot his younger brother a hard glare. Crossing his arms Dylan huffed, “I do all his work and it goes underappreciated.”

“Hey, I appreciate you!” Brody smiled.

“You do, don’t you?” a smile formed on Dylan’s lips.

“Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Brody move to the end of his couch to get closer to Dylan. “I’m—

“Gay, yeah I know.” Dylan stated, “I see the looks you give me.”

Brody was stunned at his older brother’s nonchalant attitude. Though he respected Dylan, Brody never knew what was going on in his older brother’s mind. He didn’t know if Dylan was okay with LGBT people or homophobic. Dylan always seemed so aloof and only ever interested in talking to their father. Brody would have to nudge himself in there for Dylan’s attention. Something that had not gone unnoticed by Dylan. Though Brody did need to correct him on something.

“Actually, I’m not gay I’m Bi—

An idea popped into Dylan’s head. He wasn’t even listening to Brody. His mind was racing. It was obvious his dad was a lost cost. Dylan’s eyes flew to Brody rambling. There was someone in this house that already loved him and wanted to shower him with attention. Of course! How had he not thought of it before. What he needed wasn’t less brothers, it was a new Dad.

Dylan got up while Brody prattled on. He walked into the living room closet and pulled out a leather jacket. This would do the trick.

“What’s that?” Brody asked.

“Oh this, I got the idea after playing with Genre or Jonas…uh whatever his name was. He had this motorcycle without a rider. It was an inspiration so to say.” Dylan held up the jacket. “Want to put it on.”

“That’s for me!” Brody lit up. He hopped off the couch and smiled as Dylan slipped the jacket on him. The leather was heavy, but Brody couldn’t feel anything but excitement. Had his brother ever got him anything besides the obligatory birthday gift? Maybe he should have been more suspicious, but he wanted to enjoy this so badly.

Dylan licked his tongue over his teeth, “Yeah, you’re going look good.” Currently the jacket stood out amongst Brody’s suburban wear. His pastel shorts and polo were contrasting with the black jacket.

“Look good? For what? There a party you want me to wear this too?” Brody asked.

“Nah, nothing like that. I meant as my new dad.” Dylan rubbed his brother’s neck.

Brody arched and eyebrow “Uh what? Are you messing with me?”

“No joke. You love me more than anyone. Why shouldn’t you be my dad?” Dylan stated as if he had just figured out a puzzle.

Brody let out a laugh, “Damn bro, I suspected had a daddy fetish, but this is ridiculous.” Brody started to take the coat off but hunched over before he could even start. Dylan ran up and grabbed Brody’s sides. Brody peeked an eye open and watched as Dylan shrined. The pink polo rose up, as his blue shorts grew tighter around his legs. Brody had sprouted faster than a weed. Blowing past Dylan, he had to be 6’7 by now.

A wet spot formed on Brody’s shorts. He would have fell, if Dylan hadn’t been holding him up. When Brody looked at Dylan, he could see a lustful look in his brother’s eyes. Brody came again as the wet spot grew larger.

The pink polo was fitting more like a crop top among Brody’s ever-expanding chest. His shorts began to tear as his thighs thickened, no better than daisy dukes by now.

“Bro, why are you doing this?” Brody manage to ask through ragged breaths. His cock came again , while snaking its way down his short’s legs.  Turning, Brody tried to hide his lower body, but Dylan wouldn’t let him. It looked like Brody was pissing himself, Brody’s balls boiled producing new thick batches of cum, forcing more testosterone into his system and growing him into a man.

“Dylan,” Brody pleaded. “Dylan” A huskier voice repeated from Brody’s mouth.

Dylan brought up a hand to Brody’s neck touching it. There was a thickness that hadn’t been there before and was spreading to the rest of Brody’s body. His shoulder exploded outward ripping the pink polo down the middle. The act exposed Brody’s pecs which jumped at the chance to grow thicker and meatier with Brody’s breaths. A warm tan began to cover his skin.

“Fuck you look hot dad.”

“Nggh!” Brody’s mind was fading away,  He was just being talked at now. His body was tired and the sweat that had formed all over him was evidence of it. Trying to wipe his forehead he smelt the raw masculinity emanating from his pit and seeping into the coat. Brody came again into his now heavily splotched shorts.

“That’s it, Keep going dad.” Dylan stated.

Brody’s nipples began to poke form the remains of the polo short. Feeling devious Dylan leaned forward, pushed the shirt out the way and nursed on a nipple. He wasn’t kidding around either. Dylan was as determined as a newborn on a baby bottle. The nipple expanded to a size better suited of the beefy pecs Brody sported. Dylan moved over and eagerly sucked on the next, helping it grow.

Once completed, Brody’s pecs and back both grew, as if in congratulations. And Brody came again.

“Bro,” Brody managed to squeak out, no longer even understanding why.

“Bro Rick.” Dylan corrected.

“Bro Rick?” Brody tilted his head back.  Dylan rubbed Brody’s head, an action he done many time in the past. Brody’s light brown hair became a rich chestnut color as Dylan’s finger moved through his locks. With a few cracks Brody’s face restructured, his face widening as the last visage of his boyhood was wiped away. There was only an indisputable man left in his place. Strong jawed, big chin, essentially the perfect specimen to a T.

“That’s right. Broderick.” Dylan watched as a deep V line formed on Broderick’s torso. This was looking good Dylan decided. A 6’7 beast at 260 pounds with no trace of fat anywhere. The man  was clean shaven, but that would just not do. Dylan grabbed his dad’s chin and drew it close. He licked along the sharp jawline. A nice dark stubble formed for the beard and moustache. Dylan pulled back wiping his mouth. Even his new dad’s sweat tasted like it was pure testosterone.

Dylan wanted to get a grip he had never been this into a transformation before. He looked at the huge wet spot in Broderick’s shorts. Perhaps it was because Brody had been so susceptible to the transformation, Dylan was reciprocating.

The shredded pink polo halves turned white and fused back together, falling over Broderick’s abs. The material became thinner until it was a plain white t-shirt. As for the tight short barely held together, the wet spot disappeared soaked into the material. A deep black spread over the shorts as the legs began to loosen and lengthen, engulfing Broderick’s massive ham hocks. They formed a nice pair of black jeans. Then size 16 leather boots appeared on his feet.

And just like that. There was Dylan’ new father. The thick chest, strong arms and generally looks were all so exquisite. Brody, who had once been Dylan’s younger brother, was now a deep voiced, cool, and handsome father. When their eyes met Broderick’s, eyes lit up the same way Brody’s once did.

“Waddaya say we get out of here?” Broderick asked. Dylan nodded. Not even attempting to grab his things. If this worked, his clothes and belongings shouldn’t even be in the house anymore. The two walked out as Mr. Williamson came up the walkway.

“You guys leaving already?” He asked.

“Sorry big bro, but me and my boy gotta get back home,” Broderick strode to his motorcycle and plopped on his helmet. He pulled out an extra for his son. Dylan put on the helmet taking a seat behind his dad.

“You enjoy that new baby tho,” Broderick revved up the motorcycle.

“I love you, but you’re a fucking chump.” Dylan stuck up his middle finger to his old dad while the motorcycle pulled away, and Broderick laughed.

—

The last football game of Senior year was over. That was it. Dylan considered taking rugby in the spring, but for now he was happy. His dad had come to see him at all his games. They spent a lot of time together working out, eating meals, enjoying each other’s company. Brody’s love for Dylan had translated into Broderick’s love perfectly. The new father was all about his son. Meanwhile Dylan’s old dad seemed to be getting more nervous with the prospect of a child. Dylan wished him luck.

Dylan sat on the hood of his dad’s new car, gazing at the stars. He wondered if his new dad would drive to see his games in college. A chuckle left his lips. The answer was probably yes. He looked around. Where had his dad disappeared off to? They were going to go celebrate, but then his dad got a text. Now Dylan was out in the cold.

“Sorry about that.” Broderick appeared, unlocking the car so he and his son could get inside. “As the two sat down. “Dylan, I have to tell you something.” He rubbed his face.

“Okay,” Dylan stated.

“At one of your games. I had sex with this woman.” Broderick winced. “The point is she’s pregnant now.” He stopped talking.

Dylan took out his cell phone and started going through it. His mind was a little fried. Wasn’t Broderick gay like Brody was or whatever?

“I guess my question for you Dylan is, how do you feel about being an older brother.” Broderick looked at his son expectantly.

“Then, I guess my question to you Dad is, how would you feel about this kid growing up to be a sailor?” Dylan swiped through a listing of nautical themed outfits.