Blue Boxer got word of strange activity at the Midtown Men’s Gym. Inside the locker room, the air, humid and warm, was laced with something strangely comforting—a mix of aftershave, leather recliners, charcoal smoke, and Old Spice. But underneath it was something more insidious. Something... nostalgic.
A sound echoed down the row of lockers: a deep, reassuring laugh, followed by a squeal of childish delight, and a bunch of hearty laughs from what he can assume are fat men.
“That’s it, slugger! Big stretch! Let’s get those arms limber for tee ball!”
Blue Boxer crept toward the source, boots echoing softly on tile. He peered around the corner—and froze.
Where there should’ve been sweaty guys exchanging locker room banter, there were DADS. Dozens of them. Massive, beaming, rugged naked men referring to each other with odd names like Biff Bigbelly and Harry Chesterton. They moved with goofy swagger, doling out high-fives, belly rubs, and unsolicited advice.
Even stranger, the regulars from the gym had a confused look about them. They seemed spellbound by the dads, dreamy-eyed and confused. One by one, they were changing.
A corporate shark in a three-piece suit started to drift downward, de-aging, until he was reduced to a cross-legged, giggling little boy swamped in a HUGE oversized suit. A burly dad hefted him into the air, leaving his pants, shoes and underwear in a pile on the floor and carried him off. A tattooed biker, once snarling and stoic, dwindled down into a chubby little kid as "Coach Grizzlebeard" praised his "very good listening." A buff guy, minding his own business, lathering up in the showers suddenly found himself wedged between two enormous, hairy dad bellies. He hardly had time to push them away before he started shrinking into a sudsy little boy, bewildered faces smooshed between two dad guts. They tousled his hair and teased him before leading him away.
Blue Boxer took a step back. His gut twisted. “What the hell is going on here?”
He felt a sudden presence behind him. “Someone’s lookin’ like he could use a DADDY makeover.”
Boxer spun.
Coach Grizzlebeard towered over him—thick and fat and covered in dark hair from head to toe.
Boxer narrowed his eyes. “Back off, gorilla.”
"Why should I?" the Coach smiled.
Something hit Boxer. Not a punch. A feeling. Warm. Heavy. Sweet. It soaked into his bones.
“You’ve been holding in a lot, haven’t you, buddy?”
Boxer’s lip twitched. “I’m not your—” But the words felt wrong. His voice cracked. Mid-sentence. He cleared his throat—twice. It was so deep. And yet also too weak. He shook his head, trying to shake loose the cobwebs in his skull. "Not a chance, hairy." He swung, jabbed, but the enormous man just stood there, hands on his hips. His big body took every blow like a sturdy punching bag.
"Tough guy, huh?" The coach laughed. "Well, that's OK. In fact, that's why I want to recruit you. Make you one of us! Don't worry, buddy; all you really have to do is stand there. Just being in the presence of a Dad from the Daddy Dimension has a way of diminishing dudes like you. Though this time, we're gonna make you a gay, fat-lovin' Daddy!"
Blue Boxer felt even more dizzy. Tingly all over. He glanced down. His gloves were feeling uncomfortable. Tightening. He yanked off one glove. His hand has gotten swollen. No edges whatsoever. It's soft. And hairy. His fingers are like thick, meaty dad sausages.
“You don’t have to be a skinny tough guy anymore,” Grizzlebeard said gently. “We see a big softy fat fella inside.”
Blue Boxer stumbled. His boots—too tight. His utility belt beginning to strain on his boxer shorts. His pants stayed on, though, and yet, his belly has started to sag down comically down his growing frame.
The Blue Boxing superhero is becoming nothing but a fat daddy.
His breath quickened. “No, no—this isn’t—fair.” His voice was climbing. Each syllable squeaked deeper and deeper. Older. He clutched his chest. Once muscular, his pecs were now dad moobs, smooth. His abs softened and vanished inside of his fat, hairy belly. His sleeveless top was unable to contain his now massive belly. The fabric tightening him like a vise. “I don't wanna be a fat guy...”
His knees buckled. He gasped, now eye-level with Coach Grizzlebeard. His combat shirt was damaged because of his growing body around him. The blue-and-black tactical gear is straining to hold on with his fat belly. Even his newly grown blonde dad body hair is peeking out of his suit. In fact, he's even beginning to grow a very thick beard. One would give even Santa Claus a run for his money. Unable to process everything that's happening. He stumbled forward. His hands landing on and slapping the soft, sweaty surfaces of the Coaches shoulders.
Then came more tingling. A deep, magnetic pull through his spine. His center of gravity shifted. Bones thickening. Limbs building muscles. His domino mask snapped off his face and plopped down to the floor. Blue Boxer whimpered, blinking back tears.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Blubberbutt,” Grizzlebeard murmured and put his hands on his shoulders. He gently fixed a cowlick sticking up from the new dad's messy blonde hair.
“You’ve had a long run. Tough guy for a few decades, huh? Time to let yourself go and join with a bunch of Fat Daddies like yourself.”
The final changes came in waves over his head. Just at the top of his head, his hair is receding, giving him a peninsula type of hair, leaving him as a fat, balding daddy. If he were to look at himself in the mirror, he would see the man in front of him as nothing but pathetic.
. His voice gave out—no longer the handsome man he once was. Just a soft, weathered old voice.
This, without a doubt. It is one of his more humiliating moments. His boxer supersuit is very tight all over his fat body; thankfully, it hasn't ripped on him yet. But with how thick with both fat and muscles his limbs are, not to mention both his massive belly and moobs, and his wide ass is barely hidden by his suit. Embarrassing in and of itself.
Would he rather go through being young than being aged up into a fat daddy?
Coach Grizzlebeard is elated now. And he puts his strong, fat arm around the former boxer's neck, being shoulder to shoulder with each other.
“There he is,” he whispered. “My Big-Bellied Dad Buddy.”
Blue Boxer squirmed in his grip, face red. “I—I am not a dad, and I'm not fat okay? I am a fit and athletic vigilante.” But as he said that, despite it being true, the way his body looks now makes him look like a liar.
Grizzlebeard chuckled, carrying him toward the glowing portal, past cheering dads and regressed boys playing tag. “That sounds dangerous, buddy. From now on, I think just chores and hugs and maybe some backyard wrestling for us dads, Mr. Blubberbutt.”
"My name is not 'Blubberbutt'! It's Blue—"
And then, the Coach spun him around and gave him a strong-armed hug! Essentially taking the former boxer's breath away!
"It is now! You're now called Mr. Bluey Blubberbutt!"
Blue Boxer let out a soft whimper as the big man squeezed him into a mighty bear hug. And as hard as he tried to resist, it felt strangely wonderful. Coach Grizzlebeard tickled and teased him and kissed him, feeling each other’s beards, as he said to Blue, "That's the spirit, buddy!" He looked back and forth between some of the other dads, who all made corny jokes and remarked about how fun it was to see a superhero turned into one of them.
But he can't let this fat creep win! Just as long as he keeps resisting, he'll figure a way out of this and stop this madness! The once called "The Blue Boxer" thinks to himself.
Soon the rest of the other men at the gym were reduced to star-struck youngsters and carried into the Daddy Dimension.
And then, Coach Grizzlebeard half carried and half dragged Blue into the portal leading to the Daddy Dimension.
"Welcome to your new home, Mr. Blubberbutt!"