Inheritance
"C'mere, son. I need to talk to you." Your dad asks from the other room.
You bite your tongue, there has been something you have been meaning to tell him, but you suppose it can wait.
The intense smell of smoke hits you when you open the door. He's waiting there for you, still in his suit from work. He turns to face you, posed with his hands to his side's and his gut proudly stuck out in front of him.
"What's up?" You ask, trying not to cough through the cloud of smoke.
"Now that you've graduated college, I think it's time you take over the family business." He says with a stone cold expression.
Your fake smile fades away, you knew this was coming.
"I'm not taking over the business, you know this." You reply.
"Nonsense. I sent you to a good business school for a reason." He retorts.
"I only went cuz they have a great football team. Besides, I've already heard back from some talent scouts, they're interested in signing me on. I'm gonna go pro!" You say with excitement, hoping he'll understand.
Your father stands there for a moment, clearly thinking. The anticipation is killing you.
"Could you at least try on this suit." He asks.
"What?"
"This was the suit my father gave me when he passed the business down to me. I want you to have it." He hands you a suit.
"Right now?"
"Of course, son."
"Ok..." You say with reservations.
You appreciate his understanding, but you can't show your face anywhere professionally wearing this suit. Your father, and grandfather for that matter, were much larger than you when they were your age. You need a suit that can show off the body you've trained your entire life for, not some oversized hand me down that makes you look like a child.
You place the three piece suit on a nearby coffee table before picking up the shirt and putting it on. As expected, it's really loose.
"Don't leave it like that, son. Tuck it in."
As you tuck the shirt into your jeans, he starts setting the tie around your neck.
"It suits you already." He says with a smile.
You look at a nearby mirror, but something seems wrong. You shaved this morning, but some stubble has already started to fill in your beard. And it could be the lighting, but it looks like you're starting to get some grey hairs along the side of your head.
"Now look how mature that makes you look. You're becoming a man."
You look at him as the realization strikes, but it's too late. A loud gurgle erupts from your stomach.
In an instant, your flat abs expand into a round belly, filling in your loose shirt. It's not just that, you can tell the rest of your body has grown, it feels.... heavy. Your pecs press against your shirt and your ass has started to strain the fabric in your jeans. Not to mention all the hair, your stubble fills out into a thick beard and wiry hairs sprout all across your once hairless body.
"What is happening..." You say, too confused to notice your voice become deeper and more mature.
"I'm sorry it had to be this way, son, but this family cannot escape tradition." He says solemnly, "y'know I had a promising career in modeling before I took on the business." He chuckles.
Your belly continues to grow, almost untucking your shirt as it struggles to contain it. And your pecs, if you can still call them that, have swelled to the point of looking like man tits that press tightly against your shirt, leaving little to the imagination.
Your pants finally give out, your belt snaps in dramatic fashion before your jeans rip clean down the back. You look up at your father, helpless as your pants fall to the ground.
"It happens to the best of us, it's nothing to be ashamed of. A real man's gotta have some meat on his bones."
He leans down and grabs the pants that match your suit, helping you put them on.
"I stopped keeping track of how many pants I ripped after about a dozen." He laughs.
Your fat ass perfectly fills out your new pants, as if it was meant to be.
You tremble as you bring your thickening man hands to your crotch, struggling to contain your pleasure as your dick begins to grow, snaking its way down your pant leg.
"You get used to it." Your father smirks. "Besides, your competition will find it intimidating."
Your feared expression slowly disappears under a smug smile, matching your father's as a lifetime of ambition of pro football drains away. Your hard earned biceps deflate, replaced by soft fat that fills out your sleeves, giving the impression of strength.
"Here, can't show your face to the world unless you're complete." Your father says as he places the suit jacket over your shoulders, completing the look.
As a final cherry on top, you look back at the mirror and watch as your face becomes unrecognizable. Your chiseled jaw becomes buried under a layer of fat, creating a prominent double chin. Though it's hard to see under your beard, which has gone almost fully grey, only leaving patches of grey as you cling to your youth. As for your head, who knows, most of it fell out before it had the chance to go grey, leaving a band of salt and pepper hairs around the back of your head.
You smile in the mirror, seeing a man who looks just like a younger version of your father and it makes you proud. And with this newfound confidence, you relax, letting your feet spread apart and your gut hang out of your suit.
"Now that's my son." Your father says proudly. "You're no longer the boy you were yesterday, but a real man through and through."
He reaches for his pocket and pulls out a set of keys.
"For you. I know you'll do great things."
With your dreams now a faint memory in the back of your mind, you reach out and grab the keys with your left hand and give a firm handshake with the other. There is nothing more you could have wanted out of life than to make him proud.
