Their son was also short for his age, but - Laird reasoned - he was still young. He looked about eight years old and, like his father, was short and squat.

Laird shut the curtain and fingered the small gold cross hanging around his neck. He’d be needing to pay a visit to these new neighbors of his.

“Roland! Be careful with that box! Some of my china plates are in there.” Patty Robinson smiled at her short little son, struggling with a box slightly too big to wrap his arms around. She rushed over and gently lifted his load. “Try to find a lighter box, sweetie.”

She set the box down in her empty, new kitchen and ran back outside just in time to see a beautiful man heading toward her. His jet black hair was swept back, and he wore tight jeans and an even tighter tank that showed off all his muscular assets. Plus, he was so tall! She had gotten used to short men after marrying Richard, so whenever she saw a commanding man, she snapped to attention.

The Adonis smiled a big, white grin and extended his hand. “Laird Brinkley. Welcome to the neighborhood. You new to LA?”

“Patty Robinson.” She smiled as widely as she could. “We’ve just moved from across the city, so we kind of know our way around already. This is my son Roland.”

The little boy set down his box and extended his hand. “Roland Robinson. Pleased to meet you.”

Laird squatted down to Roland’s eye level and took his hand. “I’m Mr. Brinkley. May I compliment you, Roland, on your wonderful manners.”

Roland said thank you but Laird could see a brief flash of color come across his face.

Laird stood back up and smiled at Patty. “I know unpacking and settling in takes some time, so how about you and your family come over to my place tomorrow night? I’m hardly Wolfgang Puck, but maybe I can save you the expense of a meal out.” Patty smiled. “That would be fantastic. I appreciate it. What time?”

Laird ran his fingers through his hair. “How’s 6:30?”

“Perfect.”

Laird lit the candles on the dining room table and pulled on a tight pair of black leather pants and a white V-neck cotton shirt, stretched to the point of ripping over his wide, tapered back and impressive pectorals. He snapped the gold cross so that it dipped right in between his pecs and above the collar of his shirt.

The doorbell rang a couple minutes early and he answered it. The Robinsons were there and Laird finally registered how short Richard Robinson really was. The man was about eye-level with Laird’s nipples, which made the stud laugh. Mr. Robinson wore a standard white button-down Oxford shirt and khakis, and little Roland wore the same outfit, save for a blue shirt instead of white. Patty had obviously put some effort into her appearance, and looked quite attractive. Laird extended his hand to Richard and shook it. “I don’t think we’ve met.” The men exchanged pleasantries and soon enough, they were eating dinner.

“So, Laird, what’s your profession?” Patty smiled between bites of salad.

Laird sipped a glass of wine. “I’m a model. Runway, fashion, fitness.”

“My, I’ve never met a model before. You must do quite well for yourself with such a gorgeous house.” Laird smiled. “It definitely pays the bills,” he said, modestly.

“Ever done any nudes?” Patty herself was shocked at her boldness. “Patty!” Richard shot her a nasty look. Laird, however, took it in stride. “Oh, of course. I don’t think I have anything to hide.” He grinned and took another sip of wine. Patty took the initiative again. “Are you in any relationships, Laird?”

“Oh, not currently. I’m just living the single life. I’ve only ever had one serious girlfriend, in college, but now I’m more focused on my career. I don’t feel the need right now to meet a woman...” - and here he looked at Richard - “...or a man.” Laird got the shocked reaction from Richard that he had been seeking.

Richard seemed uncomfortable, and it was obvious he felt threatened by a man who was greatly more attractive than he was. Laird had an easygoing personality and was a charming man, and Richard felt he needed to keep Patty to himself.

Laird turned to Roland. “So, Roland! Tell me about yourself.”

Roland looked up at the ceiling. “Uhhhh...I’m eight years old. I go to Parson’s Preparatory School, and Dad says I’m going to be a great businessman when I grow up.”

“Roland! Look people in the eye when you speak!”

Laird stared at Richard. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. Go ahead, Roland.”

“Oh, I’m done.”

The rest of the dinner went awkwardly. It’s when they got up and Laird began to clear the table that the fireworks began. Roland went to the bathroom, and Richard walked over to Laird as Patty tried to help her host with cleaning.

Richard’s voice was thick. “Mr. Brinkley, I appreciate you having my family over for dinner. I appreciate the free meal. But I’m concerned about the effect your dress and lifestyle will have on my son. He’s going to be a successful CEO when he’s grown up, and I don’t want someone wearing leather pants and talking about relationships with men to change his path.”

Laird stared directly downward at Richard. “Do you realize what you’re saying to me, Mr. Robinson? Don’t you think you sound a bit prejudiced?”

“Oh, I’m not trying to be, honestly.” His neighbor backed off in his tone. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to offend you...oh, I’m so clumsy with words sometime. It’s just not the lifestyle I want for Roland. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Laird nodded. “I understand, Mr. Robinson, and it saddens me.”

Dessert was unbearably awkward, as Patty and Laird had a cross-table conversation with very little, if any, input from Roland and Richard. “Oh, look at the time.” Richard looked at his Rolex and stood up. “It’s been a good evening, Laird. Thank you for having us.”

Laird stood to his full, imposing height. “The pleasure was all mine, I’m sure.” The group walked to the front door and the men shook hands, exchanging hilariously fake smiles. “I hope to see much more of your charming family, Richard.”

Patty and Laird shook hands as well, and then the Robinson couple walked out the door. Roland lagged behind. “Uhhhh, Mr. Brinkley...I had fun.” Laird could tell the chubby little boy was doing his best to be diplomatic. Laird crouched down, again, to the boy’s level, out of view of his parents. He unclasped the cross around his thick, beautiful neck and snapped it around Roland’s. “Roland, I am giving this cross to you. Use it wisely.” The little boy’s eyes widened as his fingered the gold pendant. “Look at me, Roland. Look me right in the eyes.” Roland did so, but Laird put his large hands around the boy’s face just to be sure. “Do not ever show it to your parents.”

Roland stared. “I’ll never show it to my parents.”

“Always wear it until you’re finished with it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your father will take it when the time is right. Do not try to take it back, because it will have used all the power it can use on you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, the most important thing: major things will happen to you, Roland. But you will always think of yourself as normal. So will your mother.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, Roland.”

He rubbed the boy’s chin and smiled. “I’ll be seeing you around, Roland.”

“Roland!” Richard stepped back in the door. “C’mon!”

Laird stood up and looked directly at Richard. Richard stared back. No words were said as Richard shut the door.

The Robinsons stepped in the door. Roland could see his father was mad, and as soon as his parents went in the kitchen he could hear his Dad raving. He didn’t get what the big deal was. He liked Mr. Brinkley; he was really nice.

Roland walked up to the upstairs bathroom and unbuttoned his shirt, only to be greeted by a strange sight. Where had that gold chain come from?

He wrapped it around his fingers, and it glistened. He rubbed it against his sweaty, fat face. He began to sweat, then backed up against the wall, just standing there.

If Roland had been able to notice, he would’ve seen his body begin to stretch, and grow. And as his legs, arms, and torso sprouted to new heights, his face matured too. The baby fat melted away, revealing sharp features underneath. His lips began to get fuller, and his eyebrow became heavy. His chin squared off, his Adam’s apple began to become clearer in his lengthening neck.

His skin was darkening, tanning; and his muscles began to reveal themselves. He wouldn’t have been experiencing anything unusual had this process been stretched out over several years, but Roland was experiencing that exciting stage in a much faster, accelerated way. His face had gone from chubby to quite attractive, and his limbs and chest were very well-proportioned and showed potential to become quite appetizing later on in life. He had light fuzz over his cheeks and his hair began to get more wavy as he aged. He had started out pretty close to blond, but his body hair was darkening until it was a delicious medium brown.

He held the cross. It was warm and welcoming, and it hung perfectly right between his new little pectorals. They were as small as could be while still being visible for his young age, and stood atop a youthful four-pack.

He stood there, rubbing and panting, for a few seconds. Then, as if nothing had happened, he showered off and pulled on a pair of pajama pants. He went shirtless, which showed off his thirteen-year-old physique that had obviously been introduced to sports and fitness at a young age.

As he stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing his still-drying hair, his Mom walked by and wished him good night. He gave her a kiss and then walked downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of water, still absent-mindedly twirling the cross in his hand.

His Dad was sitting in the study, reading. Out of the corner of his, Richard saw a person walk past the open door, towards the kitchen. The person was clearly a male - walking around without his shirt on - but too big to be Roland. His face darkened and he stood up, then walked very quietly and silently towards the door.

The corner of the wall and a shelf cut off most of his field of vision to the kitchen, so all he saw was two hands pouring the water from a jug. They weren’t big hands, and had little hair. They seemed like a teenager’s. He walked slowly, stealthily toward the hands, and the person who owned them.

As he turned the corner, he saw a teenager, with soft, undefined muscles and features that could be described as mildly handsome. He had potential to be a stunner, but was too young currently.

As Richard rounded the corner, the teenager looked up and grinned. “Hi, Dad.”

Richard’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Roland?!” He walked up and placed his hands on the teen’s face. “Wh...what happened to you?!”

“Uh...nothing?” Roland stared at his father, now at his eye level. Richard began to panic as the teen looked more and more familiar to him. It WAS Roland. His baby fat had completely disappeared, and his features had begun to sharpen into a man’s. His voice was still high, but had that prepubescent rasp familiar to all men.

Then, Richard noticed the cross. It caught the light and shimmered.

“What’s that?”

He grabbed the cross in his hand. It was warm, and has he held it, it became hot. Roland rolled his head back and laughed, placing his hands against the counter. Richard instantly let go, and Roland relaxed. “Roland...what...no...this can’t be!” Roland’s deep grey eyes stared at his father. “Dad, what’s with you?”

“No! NO!” Richard grabbed the necklace, hellbent on removing it. Something deep inside was telling him that it was responsible for his son’s transformation. He grabbed it, and it practically burned his skin. Richard wasn’t thinking clearly, instead of reaching around to unclasp it, he tugged on the cross itself. Suddenly, he felt two arms wrap around his wrists, with almost superhuman grip. He couldn’t let go of the cross, and he couldn’t pull at it either. Roland’s clutch was too strong.

He stared at his son. Roland’s eyes had widened, his lips curled into a vicious sneer and his penetrating stare was almost scary to Richard. When Roland spoke, his voice was thick and deep, unnaturally low. It was the voice of a man, not a teen. “DON’T DO THAT.”

Richard tried to shake off his Roland, but he couldn’t. “Roland, this cross is coming off...right now...” He could barely move his fingers, and now the heat of the cross was literally burning his flesh. “Roland. Let...go.” Roland began to laugh. “No. This feels fucking awesome.”

Richard had never head his son curse, and it scared him. He grimaced as he saw the steam from the chain’s heat begin to curl up in the air. Roland placed his head back against the kitchen cabinets above the counter, laughing even harder. “Oh, yeahhh...”

Richard began to shake his hands violently, trying to get free. Roland slammed his head repeatedly against the cabinets, beginning to shriek.

And then, as Richard stared, his son began to grow. He could even hear the undescribable noise of skin stretching and muscles ballooning. Roland’s features began to harden, his teenage face growing out of its awkward phase to become stunningly handsome. His eyebrows were thick, his jaw and facial structure wide and square. His eyes were round and sexy; inviting. The grip around Richard’s wrists was continuing to strengthen, as Roland’s biceps, forearms and hands sprouted to adult status.

The soft hair on Roland’s cheeks hardened into wiry brown stubble, and he sprouted a chin beard, almost a goatee but with the area around his lips trimmed. Richard had begun to feel woozy, and thrashed as violently as Roland was. The younger Robinson was in the throes of ecstacy, the older in extreme panic.

Roland’s muscles began to pop out into view. His pectorals were pulling out from his body, and the crevace between them was growing deeper. The cross began to ride higher and higher on them as his shoulders pushed out and his neck thickened. His abs had turned into a ripped washboard; his eight-pack was almost a ten pack.

Richard tried to get a grip on his senses. “I was raising you to be successful! You were going to be a businessman, Roland! A CEO! Important!” Roland grit his teeth as his cock pushed his pajamas to the very edge of ripping, and small little tears appeared all the way down them as his leg muscles changed. His quads were visible, the tear-drop shaped delineations becoming quite visible. His calves looked like footballs, his ass was as pert and solid as a shelf. “Fuck the business shit, Dad...I told you when I was fourteen I didn’t want that.” Richard stared almost straight up at his offspring, now a towering six-four, and began to notice that with his beautiful features, thick, tanned muscles and rich, deep voice - he seemed more than a little like their hunky neighbor.

His ears were pierced, and his brown hair was tinged with beach blond dye at the tips. His lips had become so full that they looked bee-stung, but they were still perfectly proportioned, instantly recognizable and very kissable. His jaw and face had become very jocky, and his neck was almost, but not quite, as thick as his face. Big veins ran through his thick, bulging shoulders, and his pecs were like watermelon halves bolted onto his chest. He had grown so tall, so handsome, that he looked like a member of a completely different family. The cracking, stretching noises began to slow down, as Roland’s adult face and body settled. Finally, he released his iron grip on his father’s wrists, lay his head against the cabinet, panting. Richard stumbled backm holding his hand. He looked at the shape of the cross, burned into his flesh, but felt no pain. The only pain he felt was from staring at his son, now a grown man, but not the man he had wanted Roland to be. The boy he had envisioned would be married, wearing a business suit and carrying a briefcase had grown into a jock frat boy, his hair short, ears pierced, chin unshaven and cock huge. Roland had become a man who would’ve tortured Richard when he was that age.

The cracking of bones and stretching of flesh had called down in Roland’s body, but he was so horny that he couldn’t control himself. He grabbed his father and picked him up off the ground; kissing him, caressing him, licking him. Richard screamed and pushed but eventually began to give in to the massive stud. As Roland displayed his newfound sexual prowess, Richard began to envy him. Roland set his father down, panting.

“R-Roland?” Richard stared at his son, at eye level with his huge pecs and rippling, wide shoulders. “Oh, God...” Richard’s eyes rolled into his head and keeled over, slumping onto the kitchen floor.

Roland’s legs had grown so big and strong that when he moved, the immediately ripped to shreds. He was now wearing a pair of black, silk, square-cut briefs that didn’t at all hide his exceptional cock. He shook his head and slowly came back to earth, having no memory of the sexually arousing growth from boy to man he had just experienced. The cross, having once hung past Roland’s nipples when he was little boy, now was barely in the crack between his massive pectorals, and almost to his collarbone.

He had blacked out during his change, but when he blinked his eyes and drank a sip of water, he was revitalized. He felt so strong, so virile, such a man. He rubbed his huge package and twirled the cross - now a normal temperature and quite cool. Finally, he saw Richard on the floor.

“Dad!” His voice was deep and smooth, very silky, very sexy. He leaned down and picked up his portly, middle-aged father. Every muscle popped with glory as it worked, but he easily lifted the man, and carried him up to his parents’ bedroom.

Patty was sitting in bed, reading a book. “Roland! What on earth...”

Roland lightly smirked. “I don’t know, I just turned around and Dad was on the floor.”

Patty stood up and felt Richard’s brow. “Well, his temperature seems fine. Just set him on the bed. He’s probably really tired from the move.” Roland set Richard on the bed and wiped some sweat from his own brow. Patty came over and playfully spanked her son. “Thanks for helping with the move, Ro. I appreciate you missing a couple days of school.”

Roland hugged his Mom, his huge arms easily wrapping around her and pulling her into his chest. “No problem. I didn’t want to make you and Dad do it all by yourselves.”

He walked out of the bedroom and into the guest room, his pert ass bouncing and his thick, meaty legs straining at the briefs. His magnificent, god-like physique turned him on every time he saw it, which was why he always wore as few clothes as possible. He remembered the fraternity’s Halloween party the year before, or, he snickered, at least partially remembered. Before he’d gotten trashed and woken up with two beautiful blondes in his best friend’s bedroom, he’d gone dressed as Adam - as in Adam and Eve - complete with a fig leaf.

Roland lay down in bed, his massive body slightly straining the bedframe. He could hear it creak as lay down. He rubbed his stubbly cheeks and slowly drifted off to sleep.

The night was silent as the hours passed. It was a little past four AM when Richard’s eyes fluttered open. He’d been dreaming about Roland.

It had been surreal, watching his fat little boy grow into a studly jock. All at once, it had been the most horrifying and most sexually amazing thing he had ever seen. Roland, his own son, was the most amazing man he’d ever seen. Massive dick, huge pecs, thick muscles, a six-four height and a gorgeous, model-worthy face. In Richard’s level-thinking mind, Roland did not get those assets from the necklace he’d been wearing (and where had that come from, anyway?) He’d gotten those genes from someone, and Richard reasoned his son had gotten his outstanding sex appeal from the dominant male influence in his life - Richard.

But when would those genes reveal themselves? He was pushing fifty. It was too late - or was it?

He slowly moved to his feet, being sure to not wake Patty. He was still dressed as he had been at dinner, and he brushed some crumbs off his rumpled shirt and pants. Slowly, methodically, he moved to the guest room and opened the door.

There was Roland, his wide chest rhythmically moving up and down, fast asleep. Richard kneeled down next to his sexy progeny, and reached around his neck. He unclasped the cross very slowly and clasped it around his own neck. It felt smooth and warm, and he began to become tumescent. Roland moved his huge hands up to his neck, and even while sleeping, rubbed it. Richard stood still, not daring to move, to breathe. Then, Richard almost gasped when Roland muttered “...I’m not gonna try to take it back.”

Richard’s eyes widened, but he didn’t push Roland, even as he talked in his sleep. Richard held the cross in his hand and could feel it begin to get hot, which made him wildly horny. He staggered out of the room and into the hall, his stubby little dick standing totally up, tenting in his pants.

He stood in the hall, clutching the charm and waiting. He could feel it working...he could feel his dick growing longer and harder than it had ever grown before. It was lengthening, actually physically growing longer. He began to giggle with glee as the cross touched his bare flesh, the heat emanating from it. He slammed his fists against the wall, knocking a framed picture of the family, from years before when Roland was still a little boy, onto the floor. The glass shattered and the noise was loud, but Richard didn’t care anymore. Roland and Patty could come out and look if they wanted, but he knew he wouldn’t. They were too tired.

He could feel his pants becoming looser as his gut receded, and pretty soon, they dropped to the floor. He ran his hands over his chest. He could feel the muscles beginning to push from the inside, and the pasty white skin was getting rougher. The hair around his midsection was disappearing, and pretty soon he could feel smooth, toned, hairless abs. He raised the shirt and saw a light four-pack, in the process of hardening. “Unnnghhh...yessss....” His stomach was flat now, making his shirt loose at the bottom, but his small man-boobs were hardening into pectorals, thus making the shirt tight up top.

The cross was steaming again, and he slammed his full body against the wall, shaking the hallway. He didn’t know how his wife and son were sleeping through all this, but he figured it was all part of the magic.

His underwear was becoming unimaginably tight, as his massive cock-and-balls ballooned and his ass became like his son’s - round, pert, bubbled. Richard stumbled down the hall to a mirror - tragically, not a full-length - and held his face in his hands. He could see his fingers becoming longer and wider, and his hands were big and powerful, not the lily-white dainties he’d had before. His skin was darkening, like Roland’s, it was bronze and tanned and almost shimmered in the light.

But it was his face that fascinated him. His head had always been completely round and surrounded by a layer of fat, and it had made him feel like Charlie Brown - a feeling that wasn’t helped by his rapid hair loss. But as he stared at the mirror, he could see the fat melt away. His jaw sharpened and began to become square, his chin dipping symmetrically in the center of his face. His hair line begin to quickly crawl back up the top of his head, as the hair grew out. He rubbed it with his hands and could feel how thick and sexy it was.

He was a big man now, tall and square and broad. His body was sprouting height and muscle at an unbelievable rate: he now stood six-three, an inch shorter than Roland, and his two-hundred-twenty pounds of fat had been converted into rock solid muscle.

He saw his chin and cheeks begin to darken, as the stubble grew out; pretty soon he had a full, trimmed beard. His pecs were beginning to tear through his shirt, as were his mountainous biceps.

Richard had always been picked on all the way through college for his fat, short body. Now, he was a god...tall and bronze and hot. He laughed outright as his back tore threw his nerdy shirt, his loud bass booming through the halls. He rubbed his eight-pack and stared at his new face in the mirror, a face of power and sex.

His legs were massive and every muscle popped. He was an older, more mature Roland, he realized as he looked himself over. His face had a few creases from age, and it gave him a mature sexiness.

He smiled, giving one last look to his new teeth and luscious lips, and swaggered down the hall, huge cock slapping between his legs and a masculine sneer curling his lips. He was so turned on by his undeniable godliness that he just had to give Patty a night she’d never forget.

Richard and Patty couldn’t keep their hands off each other the next morning. Roland strolled down, still in his boxer-briefs. Richard thought his son was sporting a hard-on but realized that no, his dick was just naturally that long. He smiled when he rubbed his own cock and came to the conclusion that he was just as long as his offspring.

Richard heard his own bass roar through the kitchen. “Sleep well, Ro?” He was going to have to get used to using his new chords correctly.

Roland answered in an equally smooth and silky tone, “Like a log. I should probably change and head back to campus.” Patty stood up and reached straight up to massage her son’s rock hard back. “Thanks for all the work, again, Roly.” Roland and his father exchanged smiles from across the table, staring at each other’s glistening pectorals and eight-packs.

Laird pulled on a white dress shirt, carefully unbuttoned to show his pectoral cleavage, and a tight pair of black pants. The doorbell rang, and he answered it to find Richard passionately kissing his wife’s neck and shoulders, the massive man hunched down so he could be at his wife’s height.

But what Laird noticed most was Richard’s attire - the white-collar man who had rebuked his neighbor for wearing leather pants in front of his son was now wearing them himself. Richard’s muscular six-three physique was, in fact, completely in leather - even the underwear that Laird couldn’t see. His pants gripped his ass and framed his magnificent package, and his leather shirt was unbuttoned in the same fashion as Laird’s. When Laird opened the door, Patty’s hand was inside her husband’s shirt as he kissed her.

Laird also saw the lovely gold cross that Richard was sporting. By the end of the night, he’d be needing it back for other uses. •