The more you stare in the mirror the more you realise to your horror that the changes are accelerating in front of your very eyes.
Your shirt is feeling tighter across the shoulders and your pants are constricting your growing thighs.
You manage to pry off your shirt with difficulty as your thickening arms struggle to come out of the narrow cuffs. Now shirtless you stare again intently in the mirror and realise that your body looks nothing like your usual scrawny teen-aged self. Your entire trunk is bulkier than usual, with prominent pectoral muscles and a wide back. Your arms are so much bigger than their normal size, as you can clearly make out sizable biceps and triceps.
Your attention is brought back to your lower half as your thighs and groin feel as if they’re in a vice. You struggle but finally you manage to wiggle out of the now skin-tight pants. Now wearing only your previously roomy boxers, you gawk at the muscular thighs and calves that emerged from your pants – they look almost as big as your dad’s, though his are pudgier.
Just then you notice that his already hefty feet are looking even larger as they stretch out and widen in front of your very eyes. Thick veins erupt on the back of your feet, similar to the ones you’re used to seeing on your dad’s feet.
You feel vertiginous as you realise the bathroom sink is looking awfully distant. You conclude you had just undergone another growth spurt. As you steady yourself against the wall you gaze in the mirror and are shocked to see the face of a man in his twenties. You still have your own features but they’re looking distinctly more mature and they kind of resemble those of your father. Your chin is more defined as is your now square jaw. Your previously sparse beard is looking significantly thicker, with brownish bristles covering the lower half of your face.
Further down the hair on your chest seems to have thickened further, with a dense brown thicket in the centre of your chest having spread laterally onto the lower half of your now meaty pectorals and vertically to join your beard up top and your groin pubes down bottom. You notice that even your arms and legs are now covered in a pelt of brown hair.
Suddenly you feel that you’re gaining even more weight, though this time your muscles don’t seem to be growing any larger but instead your frame is filling out. Your abs start disappearing as you pile on the wrong kind of pounds. Your abdomen is looking rather flabby and is starting to poke out into a small gut. Your pectorals are becoming meatier still and start to sag under their own weight. You notice your arms and thighs seem bigger but as you pinch them and feel soft squishy fat under your fingers you conclude with dread that the extra girth is all flab. You feel a certain snugness at the back of your previously very roomy boxers and turn around to inspect the changes. Your buttock is jutting significantly out, straining your kid-sized underwear, and as you squish your butt cheeks you deduce you now have a chunky ass, not unlike your dad’s.
The front of your boxers is also starting to feel very snug and as you see the reflection of your obscene package plastered against the boxer’s fabric in the mirror you realise that that must have grown with the rest of you.
You stare back at your face, which is looking all the more mature. You could now pass for a guy in his thirties; heck you looked like you could be your dad’s younger brother. Your forehead is looking unusually large as you conclude your hairline is starting to recede at the temples. Your cheeks are looking quite puffy as you appear to be developing jowls. You are still steadily packing on more weight as your small paunch is expanding outwards and sagging downwards under its own heft into a sizable gut. Your girth is still increasing as love handles settle in and your thighs and calves become meatier still.
As you continue to incredulously study your altered form in the mirror, you observe that the changes seemed to have stopped. You look to be your dad’s age and resembled him significantly, having his square face shape, husky build and very hairy genetics. That said you are not his complete clone – you still have your own features. You still have your Mother’s blue, expressive eyes, your well-proportioned nose and slightly large ears. You hair is darker than your natural sandy-brown but not quite as dark as your dad’s dark black. All in all you seemed to have gained your dad’s attributes but kept your own features, and you look more like his similarly-aged brother than his clone.
You hear a knock on the bathroom door and you freeze.
“Shit!” you mutter under your breath and are surprised by the deep bass that emanated from your mouth.
“It’s me, George. Everything ok in there?”
“Not really…” your deep bass reverberated across the small room.
“Is that you? My mum sent me to check on you. Let me in!”
“No I can’t!”
“My mum is getting suspicious!”
Reluctantly you unlock the door and try to cover your large frame by holding your small shirt against your massive chest and sizable gut.
You see the knob turning as the door opened slightly. George slipped in quietly through the small opening and closed the door behind him, locking it again.
As he turned to look at you, his eyes opened wide, flabbergasted at your transformation.
“Jeez! Is that really you?! What the hell happened?! You kinda look like your dad but you still have your own face! It’s probably what you’d look like when you’re forty!”
“I need to get those socks! And I need to get out of here! Your mum will freak if she sees me!”
“But wait your clothes don’t fit you. I know, I’ll go get you some of my dad’s, though probably they’re still too big for you.”
“Do I look like I have a choice?” you answer back sarcastically.
He silently slipped back out of the bathroom and you locked the door behind him.
You are left alone to examine your new reflection. You did a double bi pose. Your flabby chest and gut jiggled with the exertion but your thick arms contracted into an intimidating pose.
You step closer to the mirror, to examine your face. It’s an eerie experience as you look at your visage – it’s as if your face has been aged 25 years. You touch your bristly beard and feel the fleshy jowls that have become permanent fixtures on your wider jaw. Your skin feels more weathered and haggard with fine lines etched on your larger forehead and crow’s feet around your eyes. Your facial creases also seem harsher and sharper and your brow seems heavier, with your eyelids starting to sag, obscuring your eyes.
A knock at the door brings you out of your reverie.
“It’s me, George. Open up!”
You unlock the door and George slips back in with a pile of clothes in tow.
“Here try these on. They’re a bit old, from when my dad was less fat.”
You grab the pile and make out a huge royal blue polo shirt and an equally enormous pair of khaki cargo shorts.
You put on the shirt and realise it’s too long for you despite your new stature. George’s dad was at least 6 inches taller than your dad as you recall from when both you and George had changed into your own dads. The shirt also had a lot of extra fabric around the cuffs and around the waist, which would suit George’s more corpulent dad. You slip on the cargo pants and realise they’re so wide, that you need to hold them up.
“I thought about that and got you the smallest belt I could find.”
He handed you the brown belt that looked more like a lasso rope and you fit it around the waist. You tightened it and clasped it at the very first notch. The extra fabric from the shorts bunched up around the waist.
Finally George handed you a pair of brown leather flip-flops. They looked humongous in his hands but as you slip them on you realise that they’re just a size too large on you now much bigger feet.
As you surveyed your clothed self in the mirror, you realised you didn’t look half as bad as you thought you’d look wearing George’s dad’s stuff. True they were a bit big on you, but being now hefty yourself, the size discrepancy wasn’t as noticeable.
“So what’s the plan now?” George asks you quizzically.