Oh my god. Oh. My. God. I have no idea how this happened. It must’ve been Dad’s beer, but how did he do this?
Last night I knocked out after, um, some “Me Time,” and slept through the night. Normally Dad will wake me up early in the morning to try to get me to work me out, but this morning he didn’t. Not that I’m complaining, I don’t know what I’d do if he saw me like this.
When I woke up this morning I felt... strange. The clothes I fell asleep in felt tight and every time I moved something ripped. It wasn’t until I got out of bed that I realized why: I’d grown ridiculously overnight! When I sat up in bed my mattress creaked under my new weight. Looking down all I could see was a meaty chest and beer belly covered in a forest of hair. That’s when I saw the tattoo.
On my right shoulder, under all the hairs, was a tattoo of an eagle. An eagle I was all too familiar with. I tripped and stumbled my way to my mirror and couldn’t help but scream when I saw my reflection. Looking back at me was my dad! I looked down at my massive, callous hands and back up to the mirror.
“This can’t be happening,” I muttered in my dad’s gruff baritone.
I tugged at his scraggly beard. Ouch! This was definitely real.
“I’m so... so... big!” I exclaimed looking down at my massive body. I’d always taken after my mom’s slimmer, shorter side of the family, but my dad? He was practically a giant! And let me tell you, things look a lot smaller when you’re suddenly six feet tall.
I cupped my stomach and squeezed it; it was so large and firm, how did Pop get around with this thing? I noticed that I still had dried cum matting the hairs on my stomach.
Walking wasn’t easy, between my new center of gravity, and the fact that my feet are now size thirteen, I felt like I was waddling like a penguin.
I sat back down on my bed, springs protesting under me, and stared into the mirror, a grizzled, old, bear of a man stared back. That’s when I stopped to think, ‘Wait, if I’m Pop, does that mean... he’s me?’