atelierforyou

Atelier For You

this is just a collection of things I like...that's it...

154 posts

Babysitter

“Dude there’s no way anybody is gonna think this is legit,”

Two boys walked down the hot sidewalk through an unfamiliar neighborhood. The summer heat was at an all time high, and they were stuck out in the open during their unfortunately timed outing; however, they were determined to not leave “empty handed”.

“Shut it, Salad. This is totally gonna work...easy peasy.”

“Come on, man, you only call me that when you’re completely dry of those ‘sick burns’ of yours. Besides, couldn’t we have waited until night? Or at least until it was cooler? I’m dying out here!”

Brandon and Cesar, you can guess which one was called salad, were trying their best to get employed. Now that both of them were at the age where they could get jobs, they were eager to start making money.

Cesar was much more organized with his approach. By the time his 16th birthday came around, he had already planned out where he was going to apply, and ended up landing the opportunity; though, he wasn’t starting for another week or so.

Brandon, on the other hand, wasn’t so fast on the uptake. Despite his apparent excitement to make money, he slacked off and laid it off until now. Instead of a more formal job, he opted to go a little more casual. After asking around his own neighborhood, he nabbed a job babysitting.

Just as soon as he landed it, he lost it. Royally messing up with the tasks given to him, the parents decided to quickly get a new sitter. He didn’t want his reputation to follow him around, so he decided to scope out another nearby neighborhood for his next target.

Brandon swiped his hand at his forehead, arm swinging lazily as if it weighed one hundred pounds, whisking away the sweat that was beginning to drop into his eyes. The sunlight caught the screen of his small black digital watch on his wrist and shot his eyes for a split second. He brought his other hand up to rub his eyes with a groan.

At an astounding 5’5, he was a pretty average looking guy. His daily outfits consisting mostly of shorts, graphic t-shirts that hung over his skinny body, and the same pair of shoes that he’s worn for over a year. His medium length chestnut hair swept to the side, occasionally having to be brushed or blown out of his face. Perfectly average with average hair, average clothing, average interests, and average voice too. Ok, he had to admit his height was...less than average.

“Trust me, Cesar. It’s going to work,” Brandon raised a clenched fist to the sky and stated in a blatantly dramatic tone as if he were a character from a movie, “it must work, lest thine work be for nothing!”

“Yeah, ok, man.” Cesar responded dryly, half listening to whatever his friend had just spouted. He stared at the houses alongside them. They were definitely upper middle class, bigger and nicer than the ones from where they lived, not that their neighborhood was all that bad.

Cesar was bigger in stature, clocking in at 5’10. His dyed platinum white hair was wavy, but around the same length as Brandon’s. He was smart, but could be quite lazy if he had to do something that he didn’t want to do. Being a straight A student was a good catch word for when he was introduced to people by his parents, but he only achieved those grades so that he could get his family and teachers off his back. Outside of school, he had a knack for music. His main instrument is the electric guitar, and you can almost tell that he enjoys playing hard rock just by looking at his outfit. Pierced ears with small studs, black tank top with a bright red highlight on the hems, breathable button up long sleeve that was now tied around his waist, slim cut grungy jeans and topped off with thick black combat boots. As much as his parents told him not to wear black on hot days, a majority of his closet consisted of that color, so there wasn’t much he could do.

The two of them turned into a cul de sac, where a much cleaner and bigger house resided between less impressive houses, at least by comparison. Both of them were clearly eyeing that one, despite knowing for sure there was no way they’d land anything there.

They slowed to a stop right in front of the lawn, admiring the building in front of them. Very stylistically modern, with clean cut corners, a white aesthetic, and a lot of windows. The building almost led the eye to its second floor, where there appeared to be two rooms facing the street, judging by what they could see from the windows.

To their surprise, from the second floor’s room on the left, there was a very young boy sticking his head out, before he waved at Brandon and Cesar. The three awkwardly waved at each other for a moment, before Brandon and Ceasar turned to one another, knowing exactly what the other was thinking.

“This is the one!” They excitedly said unison.

“I’m gonna go for it! I’m totally gonna go for it!” Brandon’s speech was quick and excited, an elated look on his face

“Hell yeah, man! Get that bread, let’s gooooo!” Cesar was reciprocating the excitement in the air, happy for this chance his friend just might have before him.

Their excitement simmered down a bit after they realized that it must be weird to be celebrating in front of someone's house like that.

“I’m going on ahead,” Brandon’s face was dark, having pumped up the dramatics for this crucial moment that was about to unfold. “If I don’t come back with the job, then...um.”

Cesar stared blankly at him, the tension completely evaporating as he couldn’t think of what to say next.

“Then what? Don’t leave me hanging here.” Cesar jabbed, still staring at his friend.

“Then...then, I don’t know, buy me some fries at McDonalds?” Brandon refused to make eye contact with Cesar, the awkwardness piling up with each passing second.

With a slap to his back, Cesar pushed Brandon towards the house, sending him stumbling a few steps onto the driveway.

“Go get ‘em, tiger! I’ll be hanging under that tree.” Cesar was reminded of just how hot it was outside, and pointed at a big tree nearby with a bench underneath. It wasn’t air conditioning or an ice cold glass of water, but you have to work with what you get.

Brandon turned again to face the house, and then the door. “This is it. Don’t mess this up. Paycheck, here I come.” He braved himself after his small pep talk, before stepping up towards the entrance. Left foot, right foot, left, right, left. His footsteps grew louder and louder in his ears the closer he got.

At last, he was at the grand door in front of him. That pearly wooden frame with the warped glass in the middle that allowed light through, but nothing more than a foggy and blurry image of what lied beyond it. Brandon raised his ever so slightly trembling hand, and reached to knock on the door.

KR-CHK

The door opened. Brandon didn’t process what was happening at all. There was a door in front of him, and now there isn’t. Someone opened the door! His hand swatted the air, and Brandon stumbled in a few steps, so as not to fall.

This was bad. Very bad. Brandon had stepped into the house. His eyes darted around frantically, before noticing the pair of legs on his left.

“Can I help you?” A soft voice inquired.

Brandon slowly stood up, and began to face the voice, and the one who opened the door.

There was a woman. Tall, lean, and pretty. Long brown hair draping over her shoulder. Perfect hourglass figure. Definitely mid 20s to early 30s. Was that old enough to be classified as a MILF?? He didn’t know, all he knew for sure was that she was H O T

“Um-O-Oh! I’m so sorry! I was about to knock on the door when it suddenly opened! Please forgive me!” Brandon stammered, obviously terrified of what had just happened. Could he go to jail for this? And here he was, just out looking for a way to make money! He wasn’t prepared for the slammer…

“Oh, I see! Sorry for the scare,” The woman giggled, obviously not nearly as shaken up as Brandon was. “I was just on my way to the store! Our son just drinks up all the milk, I swear we need to pick up more all the time- oh look at me… sorry, I’m oversharing a bit hahaha~”

Brandon watched as she brought her hand up to her mouth as she was laughing. She was so pretty. He was still startled, but he was glad that she didn’t take to this experience badly.

“Are you alright? Honest, I didn’t mean to scare you at all.” The woman inquired

Brandon stared for a moment before remembering what he came here for

“U-um, hi there! My name is Brandon, I’m a high schooler, and I was wondering if you were in any need of a babysitter?” his voice was notably shaky, and he blurted it out pretty quickly.

After a moment of awkward silence, he added, “By any chance?”

More seconds go by before either of them said anything

“Well,” The woman said, sighing “We actually are going on a business trip and I really didn’t plan anything yet,” her speech devolved more into mumbling to herself, rather than talking to Brandon.

Her eyes snapped up to look at Brandon. “Can you start today?”

It was a simple question. Straightforward and precise.

“...what?” Brandon had no idea how to respond to this. He wanted the job, yes, but this soon? This easily? How is this happening? “U-uh, yeah, sure! I don’t have a lot going on. Just tell me what you need done and I’ll get to it!”

“Perfect! Let me put away my keys real fast and…” she turned away into the nice house, mumbling some more to herself before returning. “Come on in, I can give you the rundown!”

He looked back momentarily, noticing that Cesar was talking to another boy under the refuge of the tree’s shade. He stared for a bit, wondering who it was, before proceeding to follow the woman.

Already technically inside of the house, Brandon stepped further in. Nice hardwood flooring, high ceilings, and some decorative touches like plants on tables and nice paintings adorning the walls. This was a very nice house, but he could have guessed that already from the outside.

He was led into a spacious living room, which opened up into a kitchen. Both of which were incredibly nice. Big fuzzy rug in the living room with a large couch and an even larger flatscreen TV mounted on the wall.

The kitchen had clean white granite looking countertops and an island in the middle with a bunch of kitchenware on it, among other things.

“Alright, you’ve babysat before, yeah?” The woman was walking briskly through the house before stopping at the kitchen.

“Yes, a couple times in my own neighborhood.” Brandon answered concisely, albeit not completely true. He has only babysat once before, and that ended in a disaster.

“Hmmm alright, you look pretty dependable, not looking like the type to throw parties, either.” She said sizing up Brandon as she poured herself a drink.

“Ah, thanks!.” Brandon didn’t even notice her pull out the bottle, and more importantly, was she implying that he wasn’t cool enough to attend parties? It was true but, come on, that’s a harsh blow. “Erm, can I get your name?”

“Ah of course! Can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself!” She laughed at this, the drink getting very close to spilling out of the glass but never reaching that point. “I’m Cynthia Miller, nice to meet you.”

Brandon smiled, and Cynthia gave him a tour of the house. Through the many rooms, he was walked through bathrooms, bedrooms, a game room, laundry room, and a large backyard. She went over the tasks that he should be accomplishing with insane speed. Brandon was having a hard time with keeping up, not only with her long strides, but with how fast she was talking too.

He was taken upstairs, and like he and Cesar had thought, there were two rooms facing the street. One of which had the kid inside. He was first shown the room next to it, in which the master bedroom resided. It was spacious, to say the least. Massive bed with an equally massive bed frame, two drawers, one on each side of the bed, and a carpeted floor. There was a big cardboard box placed on top of the left drawer. The brown color of the box looked a little out of place compared to the mostly white aesthetic of the house, but it was just some random cardboard box. He didn’t think too much of it.

The next room had the little guy. It was very childlike, which was to be expected. Pastel blue colored walls, toys galore, and a racecar bed. Brandon used to have a bed like that! The boy was asleep this time, not sticking his head outside the window like when they had last seen each other. Cynthia said surprisingly little about him. Brandon picked up that his name was Ethan, he was 8 years old, and loved his dinosaur chicken nuggets. Pretty typical for a kid his age, he thought.

The rest of the little tour went by fast. Before he knew it, Cynthia was grabbing bags and flying out the door and on her way to…the store? Actually, Brandon didn’t even know where she was going or how long he was supposed to be staying there. Probably not too long, right?

This was weirdly easy in general, letting him babysit after a few minutes of talking, if that. Trusted his word enough to not ask any follow up questions. This was kinda strange.

For a few minutes, Brandon just walked around the big house aimlessly. Through the rooms, into the kitchen, up the stairs, back down to the kitchen. He didn’t really know what to do. He walked up to check on Ethan, who was still sleeping soundly.

Still not sure what to do, and mostly confused by the entire situation that unfolded before him, Brandon strutted back down the stairs and grabbed himself a glass of water from the fridge. All that walking in the heat really made him thirsty, and some water was just what he needed.

Caesar! He rushed to the front door, peeking out the window to see if his buddy was still there, maybe he could come inside for a bit. Well, maybe I shouldn’t do that, but giving him some water shouldn’t be too bad. To Brandon’s surprise, he wasn’t there. Neither was the other boy he was talking to.

He took his glass to the living room couch, sipping intermittently, before plopping himself down and glancing around for the remote. Ceasar’s fine, he likely just made quick friends with that kid and went to their house. The kid looked pretty close to the same age as him, though. Maybe “that guy” would be a better term. After a moment or two, he found it, and turned the TV on, opting to watch some Gordan Ramsay shows that it turned on to. Does this family like to cook a lot? They sure got the kitchen for it.

He set his glass down on the coffee table in front of him before picking it back up after a moment of thought and placing a coaster underneath it. He knew how much his mom reminded him of using a coaster, and while he never did at home, he may as well do it here. He’s gotta keep his job. Was this a job? He wasn’t even told how much money he was going to make. Oh well, he’s here anyway, not about to walk out and leave Ethan here alone.

After watching Hotel Hell for a while, he glanced at his watch. It read 6:47 PM. Brandon hoisted himself up from the couch and went straight to the kitchen. Now was about dinner time right? Maybe even a bit later than they usually eat. Popping open the fridge, he saw a box of dino nuggies ready to cook. He slapped some into the oven and took some time to figure out how to work it.

Next thing he knew, the nuggets were on their way to being cooked and ready to eat. But in the meantime, he opted to check on Ethan again. Brushing his hand along the busy kitchen island, it slipped across a piece of paper that fell to the floor.

Bending down to pick it up, he placed it back into its old spot, until he decided to take a quick peek at what exactly it was. It was a check, and one with 800$ marked on it!

“Who could this be for?” He murmured to himself, taking a look at who it was addressed to.

“Bruno Langston” It read. Could that be the dad? He moved his eyes further downward to see that it was for babysitting.

“Wait, was there another babysitter? Am I gonna get in trouble or something? I hope this Bruno guy doesn’t show up and think I’m a burglar…” Brandon walked briskly to the front entrance, where he peeked out the windows, not entirely sure what he was looking for. Actually, scratch that. Something else shoulda been out there, right?

“I’m being too paranoid here. Chill. If he was coming, Cynthia wouldn’t have let me here in the first place. So then why is this check here? Was he supposed to come, but couldn’t? That would make a little more sense. Is this going to be his, then? Will he be paid 800$ for this??” At that statement, Brandon couldn’t help but smile. He tried to contain his excitement, but he broke out into a little happy dance.

“800$! Imagine that! I’m getting paid 800 bucks for looking after a child that’s done nothing but sleep hahaha!” He waltzed back into the kitchen and put the check back, heading upstairs to check on Ethan like he was originally planning.

Opening the door quietly, Brandon saw that Ethan was, in fact, still sound asleep.

“Wow...must be a good ass dream...good dream, probably shouldn’t swear in front of the kid, even if he’s asleep.” Brandon swiveled on his feet, about to head back down the stairs to more Hotel Hell, before stopping.

He didn’t get to see much of that other room, and now would be a good time, yeah?

He walked a couple steps down the hall and past Ethan’s room to the master bedroom and opened the door. It was just a room, not that he was really expecting anything extraordinary. He walked around in the silence, taking in the massive bed, full sized bathroom, and the big ol’ drawers. He wasn’t going to sift through the drawers or anything, that’d be a bit too much.

The cardboard box on top of it, though? Heck yeah.

Brandon lifted it up, surprised by how heavy it was, way heavier than would have expected. Setting it on the floor as carefully as he could, he opened up the cardboard flaps and peered inside.

There was a...change of clothes? A light blue dress shirt, wife beater, beige chinos, underwear, even a fancy white analog watch inside with golden highlights. Everything in here was of a much nicer quality than anything he had owned before.

“What? What is all this for?” Brandon asked himself, not sure why this was singled out and not put into the drawers. More importantly, why was the box so heavy? This stuff definitely didn’t equate to the immense weight of the box. He reached inside to pull the contents out, but got a static shock as soon as grazed the watch.

“Ack!” Brandon pulled his hand away as fast as he could and waved it in the air to relieve the tingling feeling that was left behind. “Dam- dang… that was a lot of static...jeez”

“Hello?” A small voice rang out behind him

“AGH!” Brandon yelped and flung himself around to see Ethan standing in the doorway. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh phew, its just you,” Brandon picked himself up and walked over to Ethan, who was staring back up at him. “Hey there! I’m Brandon, your babysitter for today!”

There was a sudden ding downstairs, and both of them turned towards the sound.

“That must be those dino nuggies you love so much, hope you’re pretty hungry!” Brandon said to him. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but it was going better than his first babysitting experience went, so he tried to keep it up. “Must have had quite the nap, huh? You were knocked out for quite a while.” He tried to keep some small talk going, but Ethan had already started down the stairs.

“Let me get that for you,” Brandon walked ahead into the kitchen and got some tongs to pull the nuggets out. After placing them on a plate with some ketchup, he handed it to Ethan, who sat himself at the seats that were connected to the outside of the kitchen counter.

He got Ethan a glass of milk after he asked for some, and then grabbed the ketchup bottle again to make a small smiley face on his plate before he started eating.

Ethan began to dig in, looking quite content with this fine dining. Brandon, on the other hand, was still quite curious about the box upstairs. He brushed it off and just elected to stick around with Ethan for a bit more.

“So, have you had other babysitters before?” Brandon asked him, trying to probe out something about this Bruno guy, but also trying to talk in general to him.

“Yeah” Ethan responded simply in between bites of the little dinosaurs.

“Aaah I see,” Brandon nodded along “You remember any of their names?”

“No.”

Simple enough. This wasn’t going to get me anywhere. He let out a big breath of disappointment.

Standing up, Brandon picked up the ketchup and turned towards the fridge to put it back inside. Opening the fridge up again, he placed it back in. Brandon noticed something strange.

His hands had some hair stuck to it. As he reached up to brush it off, he realized there was some on his other hand as well.

“What the…” he grumbled under his breath. Brushing over his left hand with his right, he realized it wasn’t coming off, and if anything, it was growing ever so slightly longer!

He paused for a moment, and looked back at Ethan, who was still chowing down.

Closing the fridge door, he started walking past Ethan and towards the stairs again.

“Give me a second, Ethan. I will be right back.” He said quickly over his shoulder as he began to ascend the staircase, the fear just barely sneaking its way out of his voice.

He held his hands up as he advanced, examining his hands. More hair had joined the patch, covering about half of the backs of them, and all of it was pitch black, totally different from the hair on his head.

Reaching the top of the stairs, he made a dash to the master bedroom before dropping to his knees to inspect that box.

“It has to be something with this box. That shock had to be what caused this!” He fumbled with it before slumping back and dropping it to the floor again “But how could I possibly explain something like this to anybody…”

Brandon sat there thinking about his situation, not wanting to look back at his hands to see if anything changed, but he was pulled out of his head when Ethan appeared in the doorway.

“Can we watch a movie?” He innocently asked, leaning in from the doorway.

Brandon stared at him briefly before pushing the box away and hiding his hands behind his back “Y-yeah..yes! Yes we can watch a movie, uh.” Brandon stammered, beginning to scratch his head before immediately remembering his predicament and hiding his hand again. “Mhmm! What’dya wanna watch, kiddo?”

Ethan had already started to leave and walk down the stairs, leaving Brandon behind. Brandon cringed at what he just said “Gah, that felt so weird to say.” he remarked as he made one final glance at the box and followed after Ethan.

Both now lying on the couch, Ethan was watching some kids movies about animals with jobs, or something like that. Brandon was glad that the kid was distracted since he had his own distractions. Rubbing his hands together, he could feel the hairs growing in number. They weren’t just soft baby hairs, though. He could feel that this was some real macho man hair growing in.

It was strange, though. The hair was starting to make his hands feel rougher too, maybe even…bigger? He paused his rubbing as he felt small pops, and suddenly the band of his watch felt tight. A tingle ran down his arm, and he felt his pulse. Braving his anxiety, Brandon slowly looked down at his right arm, only to witness that his hand was in fact bigger than he remembered. And hairier. Much, much hairier. With a sick crunch, his own hand contorted and in a fluid motion grew to almost 2x what it used to be. Lean fingers spreading out into big sausages, knuckles bursting in size like popcorn, palm broadening, becoming rough and calloused. As the hair on the back of his hands spread out toward his fingertips, it also spread the other direction towards his forearm.

“Wh-w-wha..t?” Brandon was stuttering and tripping over his words. He finally noticed his watch, and saw that his wrist and forearm had been growing as well. His watch was tight on his arm, the muscle and mass trying to break free from their constraints. Eventually, it was too much, and with a loud snap, his forearm burst in all directions, free to swell up into the biggest arm he’d ever seen, and with the dense black hair swiftly overtaking it, it also looked something like a gorilla arm, which helped to make his now oversized hand fit in.

“ I got…I’ll be right back” Brandon leapt to his feet as he felt his left hand begin the same process. He wasn’t sure where to go. He just knew he had to get out of the room he was in, can’t let the kid see him like this.

Darting past the kitchen, Brandon turned towards the entrance, he remembered there was a guest bathroom there he could use. Across from the main door was his destination, he fumbled the door with his changing hand, further instilling panic inside him, but eventually he made it in and closed the door behind him.

Back against the door, Brandon panted for air as he stared at his massive right arm, moving his fingers and clenching his fists, before looking back to his growing left side. With no watch, his left forearm was free to grow, mass bubbling up into the air to match its fellow arm’s monstrous size.

Brandon slapped his meaty mitts onto the door with a deep thud, and at that moment he felt a vibration in his thigh. Terrified of what that could mean, he darted his eyes towards the origin of the sensation. Much to his pleasure, it was just his phone vibrating. Was someone calling him?

Trying to reach into his pockets was damn near impossible. Brandon was fumbling about with his oversized catching mitts for hands, fingers hardly able to reach into his pant pockets, let alone grab his phone.

“Damn…er, darn fingers…won’t…fit!” Brandon groaned through his teeth, and then the phone went silent. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and leaned his head up towards the ceiling. Doing his best to push the thought of his arms out of his mind, he began to feel much more at peace.

With one last deep breath, he opened his eyes and…something was different? It looked like everything in the room was ever so slightly lower than it was previously. Did something happen while his eyes were closed? Before he could come to a conclusion for that question, his phone vibrated again.

Knowing that it could potentially be from Cynthia, he couldn’t just ignore it anymore. Fumbling once again with his pants and pocket, it seemed Brandon was not gaining any ground in this battle, his giant fingers were just not equipped for the pockets made for someone with clearly much smaller hands than a beast.

“Come on, come oonn…” Brandon was starting to really get irritated with his situation, getting more frantic with his movements. “Jeez, come on just let me get my phone out!” He felt another sensation in his legs. Wait, legs? It wasn’t his phone this time, both of his legs had a fuzzy sensation in them before he noticed that the creases in his pants were starting to disappear.

“Oh no no no no,” Brandon realized what was happening to his legs, but he also noticed that his pant hems were higher up than he remembered. Quickly reaching down to palm his calf. As if activated by the touch, the muscle there immediately ballooned out into what looked like a football, and what felt as hard as steel, shredding the pants completely.

Brandon stared bug eyed, groaning in fear before biting his lip to catch it. He hated this. Why did this have to be happening to him? All he was trying to do was get a second chance at this babysitting thing. At the very least, he reasoned with himself, it was happening in his home.

He felt his other calf start to grow to match, albeit a bit slower. His thighs began to stretch and bulge, straining his pants to their limits. For a moment, Brandon was more concerned about something other than his morphing body.

“My house? My home?? What…what did I just say” It didn’t feel like it was a slip of the tongue, but before he could really process what he’d said, his pants ripped. One leg burst out of its confines, its mass stretching out with both muscle and fat. The other wasn’t too far behind, launching through what was left of his pant legs. The pocket tore open, and his phone clattered to the crisp tile of the bathroom floor.

Brandon saw on its screen that it was in fact from Cynthia. He kneeled down to reach for it, and while one hand was grabbing the now miniscule phone, the other was resting on his thigh. Unknown to him, the touch of his wide palm to his burning hot legs cause that familiarly black and wiry hair to grow, rapidly gaining in number and spreading out over his legs.

Holding the phone with his hand felt awful no matter which way he oriented it, the darn thing just was too small for his fingers to manage. Thankfully, he could read the text message from his notification bar.

[Hi Brando, hope Ethan isn’t driving you nuts over there. Thank you again for taking care of him on such short notice! I’ll b-] The notification stopped there. He slapped his thumb on the screen in an attempt to unlock it, but it wouldn’t recognize his fingerprint. It was a harmless message for sure, if not a slightly strange one. Spelling his name wrong for one thing, but Ethan was probably the most calm kid he’s dealt with in a long time, a far cry from driving him nuts! Well, he hadn’t taken care of many kids, actually. But something about that felt wrong as well, almost as if he *has* been babysitting for longer than he can remember.

“I suppose its better to get into character, huh?” Brando said to himself sarcastically. Now that he’s taken care of that finally, he has another situation to take care of. Looking down at his legs, he saw just how massive they’ve grown, and how hairy they’ve grown as well. Without him even noticing, that same hair found the time to take root and spread out over their expanse.

His body looked bizarre. Massive forearms and hands, gigantic legs, skinny everything else. His feet somehow remained unchanged, though that just made it harder to balance all the mass of the hairy tree trunks he had for legs; their bloated mass shaking with every test step he took. Apparently the strain was too much for his shoes, and they started to creak.

Or, that’s what he thought. Looking a little closer, he realized that the hair from his legs were spreading down towards his feet. Brando instantly knew what was about to happen.

“Sunnavab-” POP

His shoes burst apart to make way for his growing feet, which were crackling and growing meatier by the second. From a size 8 all the way to 17, the torn apart scraps of shoe and sock scattered about like confetti, applauding the debut of Brando’s now massive feet.

Brando didn’t even know what to say or think anymore. People didn’t just grow muscles like this out of nowhere, and yet here he was. He had to do something. Could he fix this? Could he stop it? Would that even be a good idea since his body is currently built like some lopsided pottery assignment? The scenarios kept running through his mind over and over, until eventually he remembered the box and for some reason everything started to click into place.

He had to get to that box. He didn’t know what he’d do when he got here, but surely he’d figure it out. Brando tried to put his phone in his pocket, only for it to scratch against his colossal thigh. He pat his hand down on it and rubbed around a little, feeling the unfamiliar terrain of his leg.

“Oh, right. All that’s left of my pants is the crotch area,” Brandon let out a deep sigh. There goes another wrench into his plan. He had a shirt on, and the equivalent of denim panties. That was it. At least his underwear was still intact. Jeez, these thighs sure get hot. All that rubbing and hair, he couldn’t imagine living with these monsters. Lucky for him, he won’t have to if he can reverse all of this.

Leaning over and throwing away the shoe and sock scraps, Brando began to devise a plan to get upstairs. He knew he’d have to pass by the boy to get to the stairs, but at least he was facing away from them and towards the tv. He could just sneak behind Ethan, waltz up the stairs, and viola!

He could still hear the cartoon playing on the tv. As delicately as he could with his hands, he twisted the doorknob and opened the bathroom door. Step 1: complete, and the coast was clear!

“Oh this’ll be so easy!” Brando exclaimed to himself, certain in his abilities to sneak up to the box. What he forgot to account for, was his new weight and giant feet. With every footfall he made, it was like tremors reverberating through the house. Brando tried to be as quiet as he could, but no matter how softly he thought he was stepping, the thuds of his feet were always audible.

“Pappy?” Brando’s heart dropped. Ethan’s voice rang out from the couch, calling out to someone. Pappy? Was that what he called his dad? Regardless, he knew his cover was about to be blown. Before Ethan could come and investigate, Brando quickly made his way to the kitchen, hiding his lower body and arms behind the counter. He had to squat a bit, since his legs got longer during their transformation.

“Nope! Just me, kiddo.” Brando capped it off with a laugh as awkward as ever.

“Oh, ok!” Ethan was quick to return to his show.

Brando wanted to ask him about who this Pappy guy was, but he thought against it, opting to seize this moment to go upstairs before the boy could ask anything e-

“Can I have some more dinosaur nuggets?” There it was. The precious moment that Brando had wanted to take advantage of was gone. He turned to face him, and opened his mouth. He wanted to say something, but couldn’t find any words. He had to be very careful to not let Ethan witness the state he was in.

“uUm-” Brando shot his hand up to his throat, and then back down right before Ethan looked over. Was that his voice?! What had just come out of his mouth was something deep, incredibly deep. It sounded like a gritty rumble more than it did his own high pitched voice. He cleared his throat. It was just the nerves, calm down

“Of course!” He replied cheerily, the two holding eye contact for a moment as Brando started shuffling towards the fridge, the thuds of his feet telling a different story than the appearance that Ethan was seeing above the counter. Ethan returned to his show, and Brando let out a sigh of relief.

Opening the fridge, Brando palmed the frozen nuggets with ease, and quickly got to work cooking them up. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t a lot of work. After an eternity of awkward standing around as the nuggets cooked, the oven finally dinged. Struggling for a moment to put oven mitts on, he wondered if he would even need mitts with his hands, they looked tough enough to tolerate magma if need be. Pulling the nuggets onto a plate and squirting some ketchup onto the side, he decided to sneak a nugget into his mouth before Ethan noticed.

“Could be better.”

As Brando was eating it, he heard a yelp from Ethan

“I gotta use the potty!!” his voice wasn’t coming from the couch. No, he was already up and dangerously close to seeing Brando’s body.

Brando’s heart sank into his chest, he had probably less than a second to get right out of sight. Just his luck, the shock and pressure caused him to choke on the nugget he was eating, hacking twice before pushing himself to hide behind the kitchen island. Thankfully, Ethan ran right by the kitchen and towards the bathroom that Brando was previously hiding in. Crisis averted! But now he was choking big time.

After a couple coughs, he tried to take a breath of air. The crumbs caught in his throat on the inhale, and he entered a second even harder coughing fit. With every cough, he could feel his throat straining. In between coughs, he let out a groan, but it was deeper than his regular voice. Not as deep as earlier, but definitely deeper than normal. Reaching for his throat, it felt hard and thick, and with every subsequent cough, it became thicker. He couldn’t be worrying about this right now, Ethan is in the bathroom, a perfect chance to climb upstairs and get to the box.

After a few steps and a couple more coughs, he felt like his throat was clear, and took as deep an inhale as he could.

RRiipp

The neck of his shirt had ripped open. He thought it was just from his neck thickening, but now that he thought about it, his whole shirt was feeling a little tighter than he remembered. Then he looked down and realized that his ribcage had expanded. Once he realized this, he had to take another breath, and yet again his ribs spread out, shirt ripping just a bit more as his chest became more prominent.

“Oh, damn it all!” There it was. That deep rumble of a voice he heard earlier. Clutching his throat, he swallowed the last bits of the nugget and under his hand felt his adams apple swell out. With a grunt, which sounded more like it had come from a lion than a person, he trudged along, eager to get up the stairs.

Almost at the base of the stairs, he heard the door to the bathroom creak open, and his heartrate started to spike. Brando’s breath quickened and he went as fast as his strange body could take him. He reached the stairs, slapping his hand on the rail, and began to climb. With every frantic breath he took, his chest was creaking bigger, changing his whole body shape. Eventually he felt something more, something was moving as he was climbing the steps. Looking down once more, he saw the beginnings of pecs bouncing up and down with each step he progressed. And with each step, they too got bigger.

Brando switched between looking up the stairs at where he was headed, to down the stairs if Ethan was following, and then to his chest. With every glance, his shirt looked tighter than before, pecs a bit bigger, and curiously, there were two smaller lumps that started poking through the shirt as well. Now almost all the way up the stairs, his shirt was reaching its breaking point, and he hated to admit it felt…good! He stumbled a little, caught off guard by this feeling. Slapping a hand to his chest, his large fingers pinched that bump, wracking his mind with pleasure and making him stumble all over again. Why? Why did it feel so good?!

He kept his hand on his chest as he made it to the top of the staircase, trying to keep his tits from bouncing. No, no. Pecs, not tits. Speed walking into the master bedroom, he knelt at the box, knees landing on the carpet with a loud thud as if a bowling ball was dropped.

Grabbing at the contents of the box, he wasn’t even sure what he was looking for.

“Come on,” He reminded himself of how deep his voice had become, oozing with masculinity. “Come to daddy.”

He didn’t know what he meant by that, but he didn’t care. His pecs were starting to stretch the shirt even more, and he had to find a solution fast. But he couldn’t find anything! Picking up and tossing the contents around, there was nothing inside but that same change of clothes he saw from earlier!

“Oooggh-” His head shot up as his pecs gained more mass, trying to break free from the confines of his ripping shirt. His voice was so deep now that he could feel the rumble of it in his chest, like a distant storm.

He let out a grunt. He couldn’t think straight with all the pleasure he was feeling. He squeezed his chest with one mitt and grabbed the box before stumbling into the bathroom and locking the door.

He planted his hands on the sink, bracing himself as he panted for air. Lifting his head, he stared at himself in the mirror. He looked so tired, his small head atop a burgeoning pillar of muscle that he called his neck.

His self evaluation could wait, according to his pecs. With a choked grunt, Brando arched his back and lifted his chest to the air. As if called forth, his pecs strained against the shirt for a moment, and burst outwards in a jiggling explosion of both muscle and fat. Brando groaned and whined, catching his breath as he looked in the mirror again, this time at his giant pecs. As he watched, they grew yet again, one side lurching bigger, heftier, before the other caught up to it.

“You’re losing it,” He grumbled to himself. He slapped his chest and watch it jiggle. It jiggled, and yet it felt as solid as rock. A smile snuck onto his features. Looks about the size of a rock too. He saw those mysterious bumps from before, his nipples now looking like pacifiers.

As if to test if they were the origins of what he felt that time, he reached up and squeezed one, only to immediately shut his eyes and growl. His dick began to harden in the little amount of pants he had left. Yeah, that was it.

Looking at himself again, he chuckled “Yeah, you’re losing it, big guy.” he listened to that voice of his. FUCK, that voice.

He slapped his chest again, harder this time. His chest greeted his knocking by lurching out another inch. He laughed even more.

“I’m losing it. Heh, yeah. Daddy’s really losing it, eh?” He let out a wicked chuckle, and clutched at his tits with both hands, causing his chest to push out even further into his hands. They were huge now. Huge, round, brawny muscle tits.

“Daddy’s feeling goooood,” He couldn’t contain himself, groping his massive chest for what felt like ages, and he’d never been harder in his life.

He heard another vibration, his phone was sitting on the counter. With a growl, Brando glanced down, having to lean forward to see over his big muscle jugs. It was a message.

[Hi, Dad. I’m going to come back soon, I hope you haven’t been too bad while I’ve been gone. Love you-]

Brando snorted. He didn’t read who it was from, and in his pleasure delirium, he hardly processed what he even read.

“Gonna come, eh? Sorry, Daddy’s been bad,” He grunted as he slapped his left hand on the counter, right hand leaving his pec to service his aching boner. Before he could get anywhere, the phone vibrated again, irritating Brando.

“Y’know, A’hm gettin’ ticked off by-” He had leaned over again to look at the message. It was from Ceasar.

[Your name is Brandon]

His eyes lit up. Brando suddenly had a moment of clarity of what was going on. Right! He was here to babysit, and he was just a kid! So, why did he look like this? What was happening?! The message…who…is Ceasar? And Brandon, it sound familiar, but it feels so far away. What is happening to him?!

He saw his hands, his legs, feet, his chest. Everything felt so wrong…but why? Was his body incomplete, or was he someone else entirely? He was thinking so hard, and while in his thoughts his hand began to unconsciously move towards his chest. Brandon, no, Brando…er, whoever he was was so close to remembering something.

His hand pinched his nipple, his cock hardened instantly, and it all came crashing down. His brain was instantly shot with pleasure again, that familiar delight he had experienced oh so often. He tried glancing at the phone again, and looked at the message.

[Your name is Brando]

[Your name is Brandon]

The letters were changing right before his eyes, he could hardly figure out what he was looking at anymore

[Your name is Brano]

[Your name is Bru

The phone shut off from inactivity, and in that moment, he felt his arm tense up. The hair from his forearms creeped upwards before a huge patch of jet black hair shot out in hit pits.

“Mmh,” He felt his arms gurgle. Holding up his left arm, he stared at it and then through the mirror. He flexed it and it bubbled outwards, quickly filling his sleeve with hard mass. 10 inches, 13 inches, 17 inches, 24 inches. His arms were quickly becoming something legendary to behold, shredding his sleeves, the bicep pumping up and the tricep swooping down towards the ground. Big fat veins appeared on the peaks, and then his delts began their ascent.

Eventually, everything on his left arm began to squish together, their mass encroaching on one another's territory, until his arm pulled away from his body with a pop. A mighty trap blew up like a balloon, and he felt underneath his arm to feel a lat like the wing of a plane. The trap was hugging his neck, and the whole left side was far heavier than the right for the moment, but that was quick to change. The mass spread through his neck as the right trap puffed into existence, followed by a snap of his right arm and shoulder stretching outward. Finally, his biceps inflated, his triceps engorged and swelled to match his other side. The hair spread over his arms and under just like the left side.

He hit a double biceps, ogling himself in the mirror, then into a crab pose before groping at his pecs again. This time, his hands brought hair with its touch, spanning out over the massive expanse of his chest.

He saw the hair slink below his pecs, and he felt the remainder of the shirt tighten around his stomach. Resting his hands over it, he felt it gurgle and grow. Just like the rest of his body, it grew with both fat and muscle, aiming to be the biggest it could be. Soon his gut was already bowing out over the button of his pants, shirt starting to slide over its mass as fast as it could.

“Daddy’s gettin’ big, gettin’ real big” He growled, lost in his world again. His stomach grew and grew until it strained the last of his shirt. Then with a rip, his big hairy gut burst into view, jiggling for a moment before hardening with more muscle. He rubbed it, it felt good when he rubbed it, but he could already feel something else happening.

He hunched over as the rest of his back not only exploded in size, but height as well, matching with the rest of his lengthened body. Then before he could even realize what happened, he spread his legs further apart as his ass began to inflate. It began slow, until the left cheek blew up in size, followed shortly after by his right. They stuck out far, acting as a counterbalance to his still growing gut, but it was making his pants too tight on his dick. Despite the lack of space, it decided to grow, his balls quivered before dropping and becoming the size of large eggs. His dick was hard, but he felt it get even harder, and harder again. His dick began to stretch out of the confines of his pants, reaching far towards the footlong fuck stick he would now wield. It didn’t stop there, as it inched towards his knee, it became fatter too, the girth swelling up.

With a loud and strained groan, He felt his pelvis snap before his hips widened and his ass bloated even further out. This was the last straw, and his pants and underwear tapped out, erupting fabric all over the bathroom floor.

He was panting hard, and slowly looked up to face himself in the mirror. Still that same babyface. He stared unblinking as his jaw cracked and tripled in width, becoming a massive block. His chin popped further out, like a big ball of bone and muscle. He stared unphased as his hairline began to creep back into a wide widows peak, as his eyebrows thickened and his brow bone lurched over his eyes with a crunch. He stared as his nose cracked from a button to a solid downward curved block, as his ears became bigger and his mouth drooped into a permanent scowl. His deep eyes stared. He liked this. His now massive dick began to harden again as he watched his cheekbones blow outward, as folds formed along his face. He looked brutish. He felt brutish. There standing naked in the bathroom was an incredibly massive man, who’s muscles were still ever so slightly expanding with every breath.

There was a vibration.

He looked down slowly, his body didn’t move too fast these days. It was a notification to tell him that his phone was at low battery. Above it was the previous message.

[Your name is Bruno Langston]

His eyes widened slightly, his breath quickened once more. He reached his hands up to feel around his face. It was gritty, like sandpaper. He smiled and let out a chuckle.

“Fuck, Daddy’s kinda hot,” He slapped his belly, squeezed his hairy chest, and he felt his boner slap against his gut.

Without hesitation, he started working it, using all the strength in his body to jack himself off. A new life was pouring into his brain, his past life only a hindrance now. His balls slapped against his hands with every thrust, he pawed at his massive ass with his free hand, he rubbed his chest hair, he was feeling every part of his new body like it was a roadmap.

Bruno was gaining the memories he thought he forgot about. He was 53 years old, father of 4 kids, grandfather of just 1 so far, but that would change. He chuckled to himself. He used to be a substitute teacher before becoming a babysitter for the neighborhood kids. Everybody around the neighborhood knew him, and they knew he was a sweet guy. To some, it also meant they got a chance to come over and check him out a bit as they’re picking their kids up.

It was true, he was a sweet guy. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t give himself a bit of a treat every now and then. He loved his big body, and he wasn’t afraid to show it off when he went out on the town. He’d pumped out 4 kids with his sweet wife, Linda, and the two of them raised those kids together as long as they could. Linda passed away a couple years prior, and though it gets to big ol’ Bruno every now and again, he knows that she was happy with how they raised their kids. He was too! He was so damn proud of his family, and made sure they knew it. His big body was made for lovin’ and his extended family knows well of the formidable Family Bearhug he gives.

“Daddy’s gonna burst,” Bruno huffed, and with a final pump, he shot the biggest load he’d ever shot. In the midst of his climax, his whole body began to shake, one more layer of mass being added all over his body.

Bruno was left standing naked and sweaty. He scratched his massive jaw looking at the cum he got in the sink and on the mirror, and sniffed his pit.

“Alright, you old man, gotta clean this up.” He leaned over once more with a grunt and picked up the box of clothes. All the clothes were huge! What a weird thought, they had to be huge in order to fit him! He slipped on the underwear and pants, realizing that they were still tight.

“As long as it fits, I’m golden,” He whipped on the beater and did a small pose for himself.

“Damn, did I really get bigger? Usually not this tight” He stared curiously at his body. The beater, as stretchy as it was, was pulled tight over his mass. The vertical stripes warping and bending outwards to follow the shape of his enormous pecs and belly. He found that hot, and felt his cock twitch again in his pants.

After absentmindedly pawing his dick, he put on his button up, leaving the top 3 buttons open to make room for his hairy chest. After slapping on the wrist watch, he did a once-over in the mirror. Everything felt quite tight today, maybe he gained too much muscle. He smirked at that and gave his tit a squeeze and a slap.

Downstairs, he heard the front door opening, followed by the voice of Cynthia. He opened the bathroom door and began to walk downstairs, his massive body heaving and lightly shaking the picture frames along the walls. Turning the corner, he was Ethan hugging Cynthia as she dropped her bags on the ground

“Hey, Dad!-” She said over her shoulder. Right as she made that remark, Bruno’s body shook. Bruno’s pecs gave another push, popping open the next button on his shirt. That’s right, he was a father! And a damn good one, at that! His big gut joined in and heaved outwards as well, popping open the rest of his shirt. Bruno braced himself against the wall as he continued to swell, battering ram of a torso snapping through the beater, tractor thighs bursting through his pants.

Right as Cynthia was about to turn around, the broken fabric began to flutter back into place, but this time in an even bigger configuration to fit his body. Right as the last bit of fabric blued itself back into his beater, Cynthia smiled at him.

Nobody paid any mind as Bruno scratched as his belly.

“Thank you so much for taking care of Ethan on such short notice! Hopefully he didn’t cause any trouble, since you aren’t seething it seems he didn’t, thankfully. He can be a bit of a handful to some other sitters, but it seems he really loves his grandpa!” Cynthia picked up Ethan in her arms, his face smiling with glee

“Pappy!” Ethan wailed and held his hands out towards Bruno

“Oh, yes that's right. Pappy’s right here, son. He loves you very much!” A smile graced Bruno’s heavy features. If you didn’t know him, you would never expect a giant bear like him to smile, but it was a common occurrence.

Cynthia rolled her eyes, “I think Ethan wants you to do the thing with your chest again,” She jokingly shook Ethan around “you little rascal! Pappy can’t keep bouncing them forever!”

Bruno let out a hearty laugh with that one, his chest and belly quaking, “Oh, don’t be so hard on him. I can bounce these bad boys all day long if I had to!” He exclaimed as he bounced the colossal pecs he sported.

Ethan was loving it, and laughed his head off.

There was a knock at the door, and both Cynthia and Bruno turned to look at it.

“I’ll get it sweetie, you and Ethan can keep gettin’ ready to take off.” Bruno started towards the door, Cynthia making way to avoid getting hit by her brick wall of a father.

Upon opening the door, Bruno looked down to see a young boy. His white hair was in stark contrast with his mostly black clothes, and he looked like he might better belong in a rock band.

“Good evenin’ young man, can I help you with anythin’?”

The boy looked up at him in awe, anyone would if they saw the massive man he was. The boy forced himself to stop gawking and collected himself.

“Hi there, sir…” He looked at his shoes and hesitated for a moment, causing Bruno to cock an eyebrow. “I just moved in to the house down the street and I’ve been trying to get to know some of my neighbors. My name’s Caesar.” He held out his hand towards Bruno.

“Well look’it you, son. Not everyday you get nice young’ns like you moving into the neighborhood. Lately we’ve had a few trouble makers ourselves.” He held out his paw and met Caesar’s, completely overtaking his due to the size difference. “Pleasure to have you in the hood’. The names Bruno Langston.” Bruno ended it with a firm shake and a smile. But he noticed that Caesar’s eyes widened. He looked *almost* scared.

“Thank you, sir. I have to get home and continue unpacking, take care.” And Caesar quickly turned face and began to walk away. Bruno looked towards him, confused by their interaction. He seemed like a good boy, and he hoped that Caesar made the right choices growing up. Just beyond Caesar, was a boy standing by the big tree at the end of the cul de sac. With that, Bruno shut the door.

Babysitter

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