SPITTING IMAGE

My uncle Warren was the most powerful man I’d ever met, aside from my father of course. They’d both gone to Harvard and were from old money. They were incredibly confident men. I, on the other hand, was a smaller man with very little confidence. I was twenty-four but looked like I was barely out of high school, and I wanted nothing more than to make my father proud. I wasn’t big or powerful or confident or much of a leader. Why would anybody look up to me when I wasn’t tall enough for anybody to look up to.

Even now, sitting across from my uncle, I felt small and nervous. He was a large masculine man and was respected by everyone. I’d been working in the family corporation for six months now, and I’d accepted my place would forever be in accounting rather than on the top floor with all the other executives.

“How long have you been with us now?” He asked, sitting back in his chair, his suit clinging to his muscular frame.

“Six months and four days,” I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking as I took a deep breath. “I hope everything’s okay.”

“Of course it is, Alexander. You’ve gone above and beyond and, after speaking to your father, we’ve decided it’s time for you to move up to the top floor,” he said. “If that’s something you’d be interested in.”

“Yes, sir. I would . . . I’d be honored, Uncle.”

“Please, I think it’s time for you to start calling me Warren,” he said. “You’re going to be my special project.”

“That would be amazing, Unc . . . um, Warren.” I took a deep a breath. I was ready for the opportunity and excited that he’d seen how hard I was working.

“I know you’ve always felt out of place,” Warren said, a sincere look on his face as he leaned forward. “And, now that we know you’re more than capable and, honestly, quite a talented businessman, it’s time for you to become who you were meant to be.”

“That sounds amazing, but I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Your father and I haven’t always been so . . . respected and confident, but our family can afford things beyond the typical. I know it sounds odd, but if you want the kind of life I have. The respect. The confidence.” He leaned back again, spread his legs to get comfortable as his hand slid over the crotch of his expensive trousers. “You can have anything and anyone you desire. I can make that happen for you. It’s your birthright . . . if that’s something you’d be interested in.”

“Yes.” It came out without thought. “I’ve wanted that my entire life. To be like you and my father . . . I’ve never wanted anything more.”

“Good,” he said, smiling. He leaned in, pulled a card from his suit pocket and handed it to me. Go here and Clarence will take care of everything. He’s expecting you and, once you’re finished, come join your father and I at the club tonight. We’ll celebrate.”

He led me to the door and patted me on the back with his large, strong hands. I wasn’t sure what to say or do, but as the door closed behind me, all I could think about was going to THE CLUB with my father and uncle. I always felt out of place at the club, but tried not to be anxious.  

I looked down at the address on the card and before I knew it, I was standing in front of an old barber shop in an odd part of town. I stepped through the front door. I was greeted by a nice man, Clarence, who knew me by name and ushered me into the only barber chair in the place. 

It was strange; a barber shop for one, but it was also very elegant. I sat there, looking at my same small reflection in the mirror. I was small with messy hair and a bowtie and a rust-colored sweater. It was the closest I got to high fashion and, as I said, I looked like a high school kid instead of a Harvard valedictorian.

“So, you’re Jonathan’s boy?” the barber asked, stepping up behind me. “You’re the spitting image of your father and your uncle.”

Clearly, he didn’t know my father because I looked nothing like him. My father was a large, muscular man who looked like my uncle and owned rooms when he entered. We were nothing alike and definitely didn’t favor one another.

“Yes, he and Warren sat in this very chair many years ago. I never forget a face.” Slowly, he ran his hands through my curls and leaned closer. “I was honestly expecting you sooner, but better late than never, right?”

“Um, yeah, sure.” I swallowed hard and looked nervously at my reflection. “So, what are you going to do?”

“I know you’re nervous, but that will subside . . . very soon.” He stepped up to a bar and poured a drink. “You’ve always felt out of place, but that’s about to change.” He turned, handed me a shot glass. “And it all starts with this. Drink up and relax.”

I took the glass and downed the shot. I expected it to burn like whiskey, but it was smooth and warm. I was instantly at ease, the barber starting to massage my scalp as I struggled to keep my eyes open.

“What’s happening?” I managed. “I feel . . .”

“Just relax, Mr. Gallager.” Nobody had ever called me that before. I’d only heard people call my father and uncle Mr. Gallager. I was just Alexander, the awkward son and nephew. “Relax,” he whispered in my ear, and I did as I was told.

I felt my entire body almost melt into the chair. I’d never felt so calm and at peace, but something strange was also happening. I was hot, almost burning, but it didn’t hurt or feel uncomfortable. It felt good. It felt right. I took a deep breath, felt the barber’s hands running over my scalp, whispering into my ear as I felt my clothes getting tighter.

I felt strangely bigger. It felt like my body was swelling. It felt like everything inside and out was growing, getting stronger.

I couldn’t help but moan as I opened my eyes for a moment. I looked down at my body, but something strange was happening.

I was bigger. My chest had expanded and was still expanding with muscle. I looked over at my arms, my biceps swelling. The fabric of my sweater was also changing. It was no longer rust colored and soft. It was grey, striped, luxurious, and perfect. I was now wearing an expensive suit, and I loved how it felt on my muscular frame. I was growing even larger and, even though it felt strange, I knew it was who I was always supposed to be.

I heard the faint buzz of a pair of clippers as I felt small blades vibrating against my scalp. I felt hair falling, felt the barber massaging my bare scalp as the thought of a masculine bald head started to make me hard. My curls were gone, a thick beard sprouting on my squared jaw as I felt my cock throbbed even more. My muscles weren’t the only thing getting bigger, new testosterone filling me up as I reached down to massage my thicker cock. Everything was changing, but it felt natural. It felt normal, everything I was becoming bigger, stronger and more confident.

I felt the barber’s hands move down my chest. I felt a tightness around my neck, a thick tie appearing as my posture changed and I sat up straighter. The barber leaned in, whispered one last time.

“I believe we’re quite done Mr. Gallager,” he said. “You are a new man.”

With those words, my eyes opened. I took a deep breath, clearing my throat as I adjusted my large frame in the barber’s chair. The barber spun me around and I saw my reflection in the mirror.

I was the spitting image of my father and uncle, a true Gallager man. I was broad chested, tall and thick. I’d lost all my hair years ago just like the other men in my family, and I was now working at the company they’d built. I had a new office on the toop floor and could have and own anything and anybody I wanted.

“So, what do you think?” He leaned in, his reflection looking at me from the mirror.

“I think I look perfect,” I said, the deep tone of my voice powerful and strong. “Now,” I said, locking eyes with Clarence. “I don’t think we’re quite done yet, are we Clarence?”

He smiled as I reached down and rubbed my throbbing cock. “No, sir.”

“Make it quick. I have to meet my father and Warren at the club for drinks.” Clarence was on his knees with my cock in his mouth almost immediately. I thrust into him as I held the back of his head firm, pushing him deeper as I stared at myself in the mirror. I reached up with my other hand, caressed my square jaw. My beard was trimmed perfectly. My head was clean shaved, the expensive suit clinging to my muscular frame as I owned Clarence like the alpha I was and had always been.

Loads of my alpha cum shot into Clarence’s mouth and I thrust harder, faster.

“That’s right boy. Swallow every drop.” I thrust harder, unable to take my eyes off my reflection as I came again and again. I was confident, strong. I was a true Gallager man, and I was looking forward to take my place in the family business.