Meathead-Hawg-in-Training

(A short story)

This is Brock and sadly his dad passed away last week. The passing had definitely taken a toll on him but him and his dad were never really close. They were totally different people as Brock liked to hang with friends go to the gym etc.. His dad on the other hand was totally different he mostly just sat in his recliner chair all day and watched football while drinking beer. He definitely started to do that a lot more after Brock’s mom’s passing. His dad was old had a huge beer belly with a beard and very out of shape.

His passing was kind of a blessing though to Brock as he is now moving into his dad’s old house. Arriving at the house Brock is filled with tons of different memory’s some good and some bad. But he’s just glad to be there. Brock quickly tried to unpack his stuff as he didn’t have much. All of his dad’s old stuff was still there so he didn’t have to bring much in the first place. Brock gets all of his stuff sorted out and put awake nicely. All he has left is a few boxes that need to be put into the attic. Brock hauled all of the heavy boxes up to the dark attic, surprisingly that was his first time up there despite being there so much times. Brock having nothing better to do takes a look around opening old boxes.

Finding nothing interesting Brock is about to head down but something catches his eye. His dad’s ring, what the hell was this doing up here in the attic his dad is always wearing his ring Brock can’t seem to remember the last time he saw him with it off. That’s odd what is it doing up here in the attic though. Curious Brock picks up the ring and slides it on his finger. Huh a perfect fit Brock thinks to himself. Looking at the ring Brock decides to keep it on I means it’s a great fit and kind of even looks good on him like it was meant to be.

As soon as Brock put on the ring his stomach could not stop rumbling. Damn I guess that means it’s time for dinner he thinks to himself. Going down and looking into the fridge there not even a single piece of food as he hasn’t even had time to stalk his fridge yet. So Brock just decides to order pizza instead as it’ll just be easier. Normally when Brock gets pizza he just orders a medium pizza. But the rumbling in his stomach said that he wants more so Brock settles on a large pepperoni pizza a side of bread sticks a two bottles of beer. Now normally Brocks not a big beer drinker but something about it tonight sounded good to him. The food arrived shortly after and Brock could barely resist he sat down in his dad’s favorite recliner chair and turned on the foosball game for the night. Brock dove in eating slice after slice of pizza and cracking open his cans of beers there was no holding back for Brock. After what just felt like minutes Brock was already done and letting out a big burp. Brock looked down at his stomach. Damn he looked huge he thought to himself as after that big meal he was definitely bloated. Brock to tired to get up and head to his bed slowly reclines back into his dads chair and drifts asleep.

Waking up Brock felt tired and sluggish two things he almost never feels while getting up. Brock noticed he still has his father’s ring on Brock reaches to try to take it off but the ring won’t budge. It’s almost like it stuck. Brock doesn’t really mind though as he think the ring kinda looks good on him. Brock’s stomach rumbles again as it feels like the worst pain Brock has ever felt he’s starving. Brock rushes to his kitchen but barely finds any food. The only thing he manages to find is a pancake mixture. Brock throws the batter onto the stove cooking up almost a dozen pancakes maybe even more. Brock can’t even think straight he’s so hungry, he digs in not even giving himself time to chew. He’s on auto pilot mode just eating pancake after pancake he’s so focused Brock doesn’t even realize his stomach slowly start to expand out there punishing against his shirt. After he’s done he finally gives himself a chance to breathe. He’s got a lot of work to do today though as he needs to get busy. After hours of long hard work getting the house together Brock thinks he deserves some lunch and he doesn't hold back cooking up three hamburgers as he went to the store after breakfast. He chowed down on lunch finishing it in less then five minutes. Brock things he deserves a break so he grabs a beer from the fridge and goes to sit down in his dad’s recliner. Brock wakes up a little while later still in the recliner tv still on. Brock gets up to used the bathroom while in there something caches his eye it was his stomach it was pushed out a little bit making Brock look a little chubby.

He brushes it aside as it’ll probably just disappear in the morning he thinks. Brock walks over to his bedroom and plops himself down onto his bed. Brock thinks it’s a little weird sleeping in his dad’s bed but doesn’t really mind that much the only annoying part about it is a huge indent in the mattress from where his dad used to sleep. Brock quickly asleep.

Waking up in the he hasn’t even realized how big he’s gotten. Damn I really need to cut back on the food he thinks to himself while getting dressed. Brock struggles to get his belt buckled as his stomach was in the way. Even though Brock knows he shouldn’t eat he can’t resist he’s starving. Brock rushes into the kitchen feeling like if he doesn’t eat something this instant he’s not gonna make it. Brock throws some bacon on the grill and heats up three big cinnamon rolls. Shortly after they were done and Brock plops himself down to eat them. Damn these cinnamon rolls are dry he thinks, he needs something to wash them down. Oh a nice glass of beer would be perfect for that he thinks. Brock is about dig in but his shirt feels really tight for some reason and not thinking much of it he slips it off and digs in. Bite after bite Brock just keeps getting fatter and fatter almost to the point where the bottom on his jeans is about to burst. One more bite could do the trick and so it did the bottom burst off flying across the room and Brocks beach ball belly rested on his legs. Brock panicked stands up and jiggles his belly watching it bounce in the process.

Damn he looks huge Brock’s thinks to himself. He needs to stop eating but no matter what he does he can’t. Also his dad’s stupid ring won’t come off his finger, speaking of dad Brock’s starting to look a lot like him really taking after his pops living in his legacy. No that’s not what he wants though Brock wants to look young I mean what are his friends gonna think of his gut. Brock brushes it all aside i’m not becoming my dad am I no that can’t be right I hated my old man. Brock pauses and looks down at his gut damn the six pack that he worked so hard for where has it gone same with his pecs now two moobs rest atop his stomach. And his nice pair of jeans ripped speaking of new clothes he needs a new pair. Looking around he can’t seem to find anything that’ll fit his new size. Looking in his dad’s room he finds tho perfect solution. His dad’s old clothes I mean no one else is going to wear them so might as well. Brock slips on a pair of his dad’s old jeans and a shirt. Both of the clothes feel a little big on Brock which is good he’s just glad to feel something that fits him.

The day went by in a flash and Brock found himself sitting on his dad’s recliner. I can’t do it he says as he gets up to kitchen opens the fridge and grabs two cans a beer and sits back down in his chair. Now that’s better he thinks to himself as he cracks open the first can. Brock chuckles and gives his beard a good rub. Wait beard Brock doesn’t have a beard, he jumps up out of his seat and runs to the nearest mirror. Oh my god there it is a thick beard resting right on his face what the hell is happening he doesn’t have a beard he doesn’t even really have any facial hair. Brock couldn’t take the stress and plops is butt back down to watch some football and drink his second can of beer. Brock didn’t even notice his stomach start to expand right in front of his eyes it started to push against the shirt and his legs started getting bigger and bigger thicker hair started to form on his body and even his beard was getting a little bigger. Brock rest his hands on his stomach not even realizing it pushing farther out, becoming huge. Brock worn out from all the work and growing he'd done today he headed to his bedroom. Sitting down on his bed getting a good look at himself damn he’s gotten fat what had happened did he really let himself go that hard.

Brock rolls over onto the indent in his bed almost fitting it perfectly. Waking up in the morning he struggles to sit up from all the extra weight put on him. This stupid ring, get the hell of my finger. The ring wouldn’t budge Brock’s fingers were far too chubby now for the ring to slide off. Brock makes a huge grunt trying to sit up barely being able to do it. He lets out a sign of relief as he’s already out of breath. Brock walks over to his dad’s closet and slips on some of his clothes still feeling tight on him. And waddles over in the kitchen for breakfast. Brock looks in the pantry finding a box of a dozen donuts that he had picked up yesterday. Brock hardly couldn’t wait sitting down at the. kitchen table and digging in bite after bite he was devouring those donuts. Brock was so concentrated in eating he didn’t even realize his beard start to grow bigger and bigger and becoming more of a salt and pepper color. And is belly starting to grow even more. Brock finished with his dozen donuts licks every finger one by one letting out a huge burp in the process. Waddling to the bathroom to release the hound he takes a look at himself in the mirror. Damn him and his dad could be twins, darn it he even looked a bit fatter then his old man himself. Brock takes one good look at the ring on his finger and gives his gut a good pat. I think I can enjoy this way of life Brock says as he walks to the kitchen to grab another beer.

I had met Steve on a dating app, which is something I would normally be against. I don't like looking for people on apps. I think they should come naturally into your life and not be wedged in there. But I am no better than anyone else; I am desperate. My last relationship, well, I was in love for sure, or at least I thought I was. He obviously didn't think the same thing as I did, which really hurt as I truly thought we were soulmates. But I believe that everything happens for a reason, so I had to move on. And that's when I met Steve. Honestly, looking at his photos, he was good-looking. Normally, I was into a really fit guy who liked to take care of themselves and look very presentable. Steve was not like this at all. He had a beard and definitely didn't have a six-pack like I was used to, more of a dad bod, I would call it. But something about him was so alluring, like I couldn't keep my eyes off him; it was weird. So I shot him a text, and surprisingly, he responded right away, asking to have me over for dinner tonight. It was already getting late, but I was excited as I thought this could actually be the one for me, and I had not had any action for a while. So I threw on the best thing I could find and ran out of the house. He actually lived quite close to me, only ten minutes away. When I first entered, he greeted me at the door like a gentleman; my ex should be taking notes right now. We moved into the kitchen where he already had dinner ready for us, and when I say this was a feast, well, it was a feast. I mean, there was enough food to feed a family of ten. I thought maybe more people were joining us for dinner, but he insisted that it was just us. As I watched Steve sit in his chair, I could see his belly jiggle up and down just from the motion of sitting down, and honestly, it was starting to turn me on a little.

"You like what you see?" Says Steve

"Yeah man, I don't normally go out with guys that are bigger, but you're a real treat man," I said.

"Haha, yeah, with your body, I'm surprised you'd go out with a guy like me." Said Steve.

I mean, I would say I'm one of the better-looking guys, but I didn't get blessed with this body in any way. I worked hard on how I looked, putting in lots of hours. We started to dig in, and I already started feeling full after the first few bites, which is weird because even though im a fit guy, I can still eat a ton. I looked up at Steve, who was almost done with his first plate.

"You know, I have to eat a lot for a guy like me. It takes a lot to keep this belly looking so good." Said Steve

"Yeah man, you really do pull it off, it's crazy how you do it," I said.

"Mhm, say what you would do if you looked like me? You know, with a big belly and beard, hard to breathe all of the time, constantly eating. Sounds pretty great, right?"

This caught me off guard a little bit. What does he mean by that? Sure, I do find him attractive, but I would never want to look like him. That sounds like a pain to live with. Besides, I don't want to be getting stared at by random people all of the time.

The rest of the night was a total blur to me after what he had said. I mean, he was nice, but what could he have meant by that? He wanted me to stay longer, too, and have some fun, but he just completely threw me off. I had to go home. When I arrived home, I went to take a shower but stopped to look in the mirror. Yeah, Steve was nice, but I would never want to look like him; it just seems unnecessary and kind of gross, to be honest. I stepped into the shower, the steaming hot water running down my six-pack. I got into bed looking at the ceiling, trying to fall asleep, but I couldn't. Eventually, I started to drift off.

My dream was super weird. I was a man with a family and three kids with my wife. Huh, wife, that's so weird. I like men, but I guess it is just a dream. I step, or I guess more of a waddle, into the bathroom and get a good look at myself. I was huge, and when I say huge, I mean it. I had a big hairy belly hanging out of my shirt and a huge beard; I looked like a bear. I knew this was a dream, though, because the guy in the mirror wasn't me, which was a relief. The mirror started to fade to black, and I was slowy awaken by the sound of birds chirping.

Waking up, I knew it was still dark out as no sunlight was coming in from my windows. Everything felt warm, but like a good type of warm, like a weighted blanket was put on top of me. I reached over to grab my phone, which was right next to me, but I found it harder than usual to turn over and grab it. I turned it off, and the time read 6:46. Yeah, it was definitely still early, but I have work at eight, so I should get up in a minute. I didn't want to get up, though everything felt so comfortable and warm in my bed. I scratch my beard. Wait. Beard, I don't have a beard. I keep myself nicely trimmed all of the time. I don't know where this beard could have come from. It was big and bushy too, which was not normal at all. I shrugged it off, though, as it had been a few days since I had shaved, and it must have just caught up to me. I sway my feet to the ground. They make a huge thump, one that even caught me off guard. I stood up and immediately fell back into the bed. I felt like something was weighing me down. I flipped the light on my bedside table on. And there, right in front of me, was a huge belly attached to me. My shirt had ripped off from all of the mass added to my body. I got up and rushed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. There I was, a huge fat man. I had everything, a big bushy beard. A huge gapping belly. Love handles. I was the definition of a dad bod, but even bigger. I tried to unlock my phone, but my meaty fingers found it hard to do so. I saw a text from Steve pop up. "Having fun?" I looked at it with rage. He texted again, "Want to meet me for lunch today?" All of a sudden, all the anger inside of my dissaperarwd and filled with strangely hunger. My tummy rummbled, and I felt like it had answered for me because I ended up texting him back saying, "How about breakfast? I don't think I have it in me to wait till lunch." He sent a thumbs-up. Saying, "Look in the bag I left for you on your front door, there should be some clothes that fit you, daddy."

Daddy? If anything, I should be his daddy; he's almost a whole decade older than me. Again, I looked in the mirror. A once twenty-one-year-old looked like he was in his mid-forties.

No time for that, though this man needs some food in his belly. So I quickly grabbed the bag he left with clothes in it and opened it up for a set of clothes with the tags still on them reading triple XL. I shoved them on, still being a little tight, and left the house ready for my date, and breakfast...

The officer extends his powerful arm, that ‘License to Breed’ paper gripped firmly between his fingers, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as he looks the visiting alpha dead in the eyes.

"Consider this your official Kentucky welcome. Signed and authorized by me. While you’re in my territory, this license gives you full rights to breed anything — or anyone — you damn well please. No questions. No limits. You see a tight hole worth claiming? It’s yours. You want to pin some whores down and pump them full until they’re dripping your load? Go ahead, stud. I’ll make sure they are legally — maybe also physically — gagged to contest your lawful subjugation of their mind and body to your whim and desire. Out here where breeding runs deep and the stallions run stronger, we respect real men like you. So take it. Use it. Break in whatever catches your eye and leave them shaking, bred, and knowing exactly who owns them now. And if you need a hand enforcing that license…...well, you can just reach out to us in uniform and we'll gladly help ya spread that legs, shut that mouth or do whatever you damn well please. I won’t mind watching an alpha like you work. Welcome to Kentucky, brother,"

"You're the annoying Lib that's been complaining about my flags outside right? Even after Trump beat you pussies in a land slide?" Brent said with a cruel chuckle.

"I just think-"

"Shut up!" He interrupts with his foot on my head "I'm sick of your bitching, so now your gonna listen to me. You lost... cause your a loser, we won cause we're winners it's that simple. Understand?" He taps his foot again

"Ye-Yes.. Sir.."

"There we go! Now you can see the Right is always right, we deserve to rule as the Kings we are. And weak, little betas like you can be our loyal servants!" He began to step on and smother me with his large and musky feet, I couldn't bring myself to disagree

Brent narrowed his gaze on me through his powerful Alpha Male feet and said