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A Biker Dad’s Gift For His Loser Son
🕑 Added 2021-08-11 17:00:05 +0000 UTCThis was a story commission for one of the top tier patrons - hope you all enjoy!
Trevor would never say it out loud but his son was something of a disappointment to him. He would, of course, love and support the younger man no matter what, but he couldn’t help but wishing that Tyler was a little more like him. There was nothing short of an ocean between the two men: Trevor was all muscle, all hair and all leather, while Tyler was slender, baby-faced and wore ill-fitting graphic tees. Trevor loved knocking down beers at the local bar with his friends and letting the engine on his bike roar as he powered down the highway. Tyler, meanwhile, cycled to and from school every day and liked doing his homework the day it was set. Sometimes Trevor struggled to recognise any part of himself in Tyler; he had certainly taken after his mother a lot more.
Although Trevor did his best to encourage his son to watch sports with him and tinker with engines in the garage he owned, the older man knew that it would probably all be for nought. He had to accept that Tyler was always going to be a little bit softer than Trevor wanted him to be, and that wasn’t even taking into account that he was fairly sure his son was a homosexual. That didn’t bother Trevor either - he knew plenty of good gay folks - but he wasn’t approaching that topic until Tyler felt comfortable enough to bring it up himself. At the end of the day, Trevor was just trying to be as good a dad as a high school dropout like him could possibly be.
Although Trevor knew that his son wasn’t exactly a popularity magnet at high school, he hadn’t known Tyler to be overly miserable through his time there. He had a couple nice friends and his teachers always gave him glowing reports so Trevor didn’t concern himself with it too much. Tyler had just started his senior year and was hoping to win an academic scholarship that would allow him to attend the college he’d been dreaming about for the past several years. Trevor’s work as a mechanic didn’t exactly bring the cash rolling in so Tyler needed all the extra financial support he could get if he was going to achieve his true potential - and both of them wanted that for him.
As such, conversations about school over the dinner table were usually pretty lively, but a few weeks into the school year and Trevor noticed that his son seemed to be lacking his usual enthusiasm when he spoke about school and was even acting rather sullen and secretive, things Tyler had never been before. There was something going on and Trevor didn’t much like the thought of what it could be.
Considering his son’s supposed ‘softness’ it took Trevor quite the while to get the truth out of him but finally Tyler cracked and confessed what was going on: some jumped up pretty boy jock was giving him hell, calling him a faggot and even physically harrassing him in the corridors. All those teachers who praised what a good kid Tyler was were doing jack shit to help him and Trevor was furious. If they weren’t going to do anything to make sure the bullying stopped then he definitely would. Oh it would only be his pleasure to make sure his son’s tormentor couldn’t pull that fake alpha male macho bullshit on Tyler - or anyone else - again.
Once he had managed to get the bully’s name out of his son, Trevor was hardly surprised. Blake Princeton was the son of an utter douche-canoe that he had been at high school with himself. Those Princeton boys thought they were above the law just because they had money and unfortunately the school were willing to look past any bad behaviour in exchange for regular “generous donations” from the family. The thought of getting his hands on Nolan Princeton’s entitled little prick of a son had Trevor’s heart thumping in his chest. Not only was he going to be doing a good deed to support his son but he was also going to be getting his own revenge on the bully’s father, some twenty years later. He already had the perfect idea too…
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Blake Princeton thanked the heavens every day that he was blessed with good genes and born into a family that had money. To think that he could have been ugly and poor? Ugh, not a chance. He’d rather be dead than a loser like Tyler Watermere. That shrimpy little dork was nothing short of offensive to Blake’s eyes and he knew for a fact that other people felt the same way as him. Every time he tripped Tyler up in the corridor or slammed him into the lockers he earned a good laugh or two and even won over a few of the cheerleaders who said they liked guys with bad boy attitudes. In a surprising way Tyler had his uses - helping boost Blake’s popularity even further was going to be the only notable thing that homo did in his life anyway.
The way Blake saw it, he was doing everyone a public service by reminding Tyler that he was at the bottom of the food chain. This wasn’t a game of Chutes & Ladders, he wouldn’t be climbing up the ranks at any point. Tyler was the kind of guy who was always going to be the bottom tier of society and that was tough luck but somebody had to do it! As Blake’s father had explained to him, if there weren’t the lower class losers at the bottom then there wouldn’t be anyone to do the demeaning work that just wasn’t suitable for the likes of the Princeton family. It was easy to see that they had more class and respect than the Watermeres could even dream of ever achieving and if Tyler thought that getting a scholarship was going to be a shortcut to success then he was sorely mistaken because Blake had made it his mission to ensure that success never found its way to Tyler’s feet.
To tell the truth Blake was actually surprised when the dweeb’s father showed up at the school after football practice to confront him. He had figured that Tyler would be too scared of him to fess up but apparently not. That would have to change. Blake didn’t take kindly to being called out by lesser men and there was no mistaking that Mr Watermere was a lesser man than Blake Princeton. Blake’s father had shared many stories about what a dimwitted buffoon Trevor Watermere was - what kind of idiot couldn’t even finish high school?
“I’m not gonna let some punk ruin my son’s life,” the older man growled, standing there in his head-to-toe biker leathers. Blake supposed some might find that intimidating but he wasn’t the type to scare easily. Besides, he already knew that there was nothing the other could do to actually stop him, and he expressed as such too. Trevor’s face twisted in disgust at Blake’s callous response. “You’re even worse than your father was.”
“Funny, your son’s somehow even more of a loser than you are too!” Blake retorted without missing a beat, flashing his most fantastic smug grin as he pushed past the other and began heading towards the sweet ride his father had bought him for his recent eighteenth birthday. He’d made it all of a few steps before the other caught his shoulder in an iron-like grip, stopping Blake prematurely and also provoking a gasp that was a mix between surprise and pain. “What the fuck, man?!” the jock exclaimed furiously, “Get your filthy hands off me!”
Blake was able to twist within the other’s grip just enough to see something truly shocking: a black substance seemed to be spreading out from the older man’s leather gloves and spreading across his letterman jacket! “What the fuck is that?” the jock cried out, watching as the cloth of his jacket took on the undeniable texture of leather while the black of the substance covered the jacket’s original red-and-white colour scheme. To make matters worse, the substance didn’t just stop once it had completely ruined his letterman jacket - it even began spreading down over his hands and up his neck towards his face! “Make it stop, dude. Make it stop!”
Rather than releasing him and freeing Blake from whatever strange new form of torture he was experiencing, Trevor’s grip on his shoulder only seemed to become tighter. No, it wasn’t that, Blake was feeling weaker by the second! The substance felt like warm water as it rippled over his bare skin and soon that sensation was all he could feel. He opened his mouth to beg once more for his freedom but the words remained frozen in his throat as he lost control of his mouth. For a few moments he felt like he was sinking and then he fell completely limp, only held aloft by Trevor’s hand. Blake tried to struggle and scream but could achieve neither. He was faintly aware of his lack of a body and yet could still see the other man, feel his rough hands and smell his strangely intoxicating masculine scent.
“Oh yeah, you’ll do nicely,” the other man declared, holding Blake with both of his hands and inspecting him. Do nicely for what? The transformed jock could only wonder what fate was in store for him. He didn’t exactly have high hopes for himself. Being at the mercy of a Watermere? That was nothing short of a terrifying thought.
Blake was only faintly aware of the events that followed. He was thrown into the passenger seat of Trevor’s truck and the rumbling of the vehicle as the man drove sent shivers through Blake’s new leather body. He had a thousand questions and no way to communicate any of them so all he could do was wait. Finally the journey was over and he was being roughly grabbed again, then carried out of the truck and into what Blake could only presume was the Watermere home. The concept that Tyler was about to see him in his new form caused a ripple of fear to flare through Blake’s mind. It was the worst humiliation any man could ever endure!
“I got you somethin’, son,” Trevor’s booming voice announced. The next thing Blake knew he was sailing through the air before being caught by another pair of hands, much more delicate than those of his previous holder - Tyler. That homo was holding Blake like he was nothing and he didn’t even know it!
“A leather jacket?” the other boy’s soft voice queried, “Thanks dad, but… I don’t think it’s going to suit me. It’s not really my style.”
“Go on, son, put it on. Make your old man happy for a moment,” Trevor encouraged. Just as Blake had expected, Tyler didn’t need much encouragement before giving in. He’d always been weak-minded like that, something the jock had always happily exploited. He was raging in silence though as he felt himself being pulled around the other’s slender torso and then the thin arms moving down Blake’s sleeves. He was too large for the skinny runt, that was for sure, but that wasn’t true for long…
Trevor watched proudly as his son began to change in a number of ways. Firstly, his slumped posture became a thing of the past as he stood up straighter both his legs and back stretched out a little, putting his overall height a few inches higher. His body also began to pack on a small amount of mass, the graphic tee fitting tighter around a chest that wasn’t majorly defined but still enough to suggest with a bit of training he could probably have something seriously impressive to show off at the beach. The sleeves of the jacket sat a little tighter around Tyler’s thicker arms too and his shoulders broadened out, making his new jacket fit much better overall.
The changes to Tyler’s face were a little more subtle; he’d always been a handsome kid but that was only accentuated by his face shape changing from soft and circular to something more angular and classically masculine. A healthy dosing of facial hair even sprung forth across the lower part of Tyler’s face, creating an enviable five o’clock shadow, while his thick wild eyebrows thinned out and looked notably more refined. The final change was as Tyler’s hair began to rise towards the ceiling as if attracted by a magnet and, as Tyler ran his hand through it, his unorganized mop became a slick new cut complete with styling wax.
Despite all the changes, Trevor could still recognise his son in the stud of a young man he saw before him. Tyler still had his eyes and his smile and even though his voice was deeper when he spoke, Trevor knew those were still Tyler’s words. “Dad, holy heck,” his son gasped, “This is… the best present ever! Look at me!” He sprung forth in front of the mirror and began inspecting his changed face closely. “Do you know how many guys I’m gonna pick up, looking like this?”
“Are you suggestin’ my son’s about to be bringin’ some fine young men home with him?” Trevor inquired, surprised by the confident remark Tyler had made. His son hadn’t even blinked about talking about his attraction to guys! “Just do me a favor, son. Don’t go datin’ any football players. I don’t want any of them in this house.” His eyes flickered down to Tyler’s jacket for a moment a smirk passed across his lips as he knew that Blake was perfectly aware of what was happening around him, he was just helpless to stop it. “And for what it’s worth, son. I don’t think you’ll be havin’ any more issues at school. Just make sure you’re still focused on your studies, yeah? I wanna be able to tell the guys at the garage that my son’s off makin’ me proud at college.”
Tyler surged forward and wrapped his father in a tight embrace. The leathers of their respective jackets squeaked as they were pressed together and pleasure shot through the jock trapped in Tyler’s garment. Unfortunately for Blake, Tyler would never know what had happened to his tormentor, and thus he’d forever remain as a leather jacket...
