Overcast, ch. 28: Drive Me

Donny hated driving. He hated being stuck behind the wheel, unable to move the body he’d worked so hard to build. After something as grueling as the triathlon the chestnut-haired jock had just completed, most people probably would have relished the opportunity for some down time. But not Donny. Since childhood, he’d had a perpetual inability to sit still, a constant need to move and to be in motion that, at twenty eight, had shown no signs of changing. It had made school a challenge during his younger years, and even now Donny didn’t think he’d be able to make it through the day without his standing desk and the walking platform he used at the office. But, far from seeing it as a negative or disadvantage, the fit young man lorded the results of his hyperactivity over just about everyone. A natural byproduct of his athletic inclinations was a body that appeared to have been carved from stone. Donny wasn’t overly built, he never focused on one activity long enough to acquire any significant bulk, but he was rock solid. His shoulders were broad, his pecs bulging between deceptively toned arms, while a set of shredded abs marked his pinched waist. Just below the trim hips, a perky, granite bubble jutted out from behind, while a set of strong, lean thighs served as the backdrop for the fit brunette’s lengthy hose and heavy balls. His face was similarly austere, the sharp jaw and cheeks lacking any softness in what Donny saw as their lean beauty. Plenty of other people found the crossfitted hunk handsome, though, if pressed, even they would admit that it was the body below the severely featured face doing the bulk of the heavy lifting.

Extending the benefit of the doubt, Donny could simply be seen as a product of his environment. He spent all of his time in gyms and athletic activities, around other people similarly engaged. All of his conversations and priorities and planning revolved around workouts and diet and exercise. He was obsessed with his body because he spent all of his free time around other people who were obsessed with their bodies. All of his social connections were “gym friends.” All of his hookups were “gym girls.” Between work and working out, Donny didn’t have time for anything like a relationship, but neither did he want one. Sex was simply another outlet to use his body, and he was happy to keep it that way.

Which is why he’d been willing to drive seven hours for the triathlon. There weren’t any scheduled for months in his immediate vicinity, and pushing his body to the limit through various methods of locomotion was just as satisfying to him as getting laid. Better, even, since the process lasted significantly longer. His lungs burning and his muscles aching, Donny felt a kind of unrivaled satisfaction that made a fleeting orgasm pale in comparison. He was addicted, and, like any addict who’d gone several hours without a hit, he needed a fix. He’d been driving for nearly five hours, and the thought of the remaining two seemed like an eternity.

“Any port in a storm,” Donny sighed, so eager to get out of the car that he almost forgot to put it in park. He was still in the middle of nowhere, deep in the rural foothills that made up the southern portion of his state. The last town he’d seen a sign for was Fir Hollow, and that had been miles ago in the mountains proper, making the rest stop a shimmering oasis of civilization. It was a bare-bones structure, nothing more than a small rotunda with a wall of brochures and a set of dingy bathrooms. A smaller, separate building housed a few vending machines, but Donny was mostly interested in the hill that loomed behind the building. There was a small picnic pavilion at the bottom that undoubtedly sheltered families on long road trips during the day, and which was now occupied by a few of the random truck drivers whose rigs peppered the bulk of the lot. It was just before sunset and several of the freights had clearly already parked for the night, vastly outnumbering Donny’s compact SUV and the sedan that were the only non-industrial vehicles.

But the stiff brunette wasn’t interested in the crowd or socializing. He simply wanted to move. “Fuuuuck that’s better,” he groaned, showing off the base of his washboard as he raised his toned arms overhead in a deep stretch. The slim tank-top rose with them, giving anyone who might have looked an unobstructed view of Donny’s perky bubble filling out the back of his small nylon running shorts. The acid green fabric still glowed in the late-day sun, and the eager jock wasted no time popping into the building for a quick bathroom break before trotting back to the grassy incline. It was a steep enough slope to raise Donny’s heart rate after a few up-and-down trips, but the breadth of the hill wasn’t quite as big as he’d hoped. Disappointed, and feeling like a mouse on a wheel, the frustrated hunk was about to head back to his car when he happened to notice the slight break in the trees halfway up the hill. A seemingly dense forest surrounded the rest stop, not an uncommon occurrence in the remote area, and a closer inspection revealed that there actually was a trail snaking off into the woods.

Donny knew that exploring the forest behind a rest stop by himself was a potentially risky move, but he told himself he still had at least half an hour of daylight and that he could always turn back if it went too far. He assumed it was probably where bored kids went to get away from their families after being stuck in cars for too long, or where truckers stretched their legs like himself, or, at worst, where local teens went and did drugs. He didn’t think there’d be any real danger, and, on the off chance he did run into trouble, he was confident in his ability to either flee or defend himself.

After a few minutes of walking down the rough, thin trail, Donny didn’t think he’d have to do either. The ground quickly leveled off, and he found himself in a perfectly pleasant forest. He could still hear the hum of the highway, though the thick wall of trees muted the noise, letting him focus instead on the chirping birds, buzzing insects, and skittering ground squirrels that rustled through the fallen leaves. It was so picturesque that Donny actually felt like he was hiking through a park, and he started to wonder if he’d missed a sign that mentioned the trail as an official feature of the rest stop.

It wasn’t until he rounded a sharp curve and became aware of an odd noise that his nerves kicked in. Donny was almost directly on top of the huffing, grunting sound when he heard it, and he suddenly remembered that he was in black bear territory. But what he found were bears of a different kind. The stunned young man froze when he saw the pair of beefy men, one of them leaning against a tree while the other slammed into his meaty rear. The man getting pounded was fully naked, giving Donny a clear view of his broad, hairy back and thick, shaking gut as his partner, pants around his ankles, thrust into him.

Before he could silently slink away, the man getting railed turned and looked at him. Donny could feel himself blushing as the full-figured furball grinned at him but said nothing, making lasting eye contact while the fit hunk stood and gawked. When the humping mountain of a man turned to look as well, his bushy beard obscuring a broad smile, all the bulky stranger did was shrug.

“You want next,” he asked, looking Donny’s fit frame up and down.

“Uh…sorry…I…uh…” the flustered hunk sputtered, kicking himself as he turned and hurried down the trail. In his panic, instead of heading back towards his car like he’d intended, he’d gone further into the woods, meaning that he’d have to pass the pair again unless the trail looped around. It was also starting to get darker, so he didn’t have long to linger and try to wait them out, either.

“You good?”

“FUCK!” Donny yelped and jumped at the unexpected voice, his heart hammering in his sculpted chest as he gawked at the man leaning against a nearby tree. “Holy shit you scared me,” he said with a breathless laugh, trying to force the width from his eyes and regain some composure. Unlike the rutting hulks behind him, the man appeared to be roughly his own age and level of fitness, with a shaggy head of cinnamon colored hair and a well-built body straining against his cotton shorts and small t-shirt.

The pale figure chuckled and shrugged. “Sorry…you already looked pretty freaked out, so I figured it was best to just rip the bandaid off.”

“Yeah…yeah, sorry,” Donny said with an awkward grin. “I kinda stumbled on a couple guys having a…good time. Didn’t expect that.”

“Really? You’re in the woods behind a rest stop and you didn’t expect to find some people blowing off steam?” The man cocked his head and looked Donny up and down, his biceps inflating as he folded his arms under his chest.

“Guess not,” the blushing brunette shrugged. “Not something I’ve really thought much about. It’s kinda gross, isn’t it?”

“Why? Not like they’re doing it in front of everyone,” the man said, a raised eyebrow the only change to his expression. “No one forced you to walk down an unmarked trail by the side of the highway. What’s the big deal? They’re just like you…tired of being cooped up and wanting a little release.”

Donny wondered how the stranger so clearly guessed his original intentions, but he was too busy being defensive to ask. “Whoooaaa…okay, no. They might want to stretch their, uh, legs, but we’re nothing alike.”

The man sounded genuinely confused when he spoke. “You’re not? Doesn’t seem like it to me.”

“What about this,” Donny said, gesturing to himself, “makes you think of them? I’m on my way back from a triathlon. I only stopped because I can’t stand being cooped up in a car that long. Does it look like I sit behind the wheel all day? I’m not some gross fat freak fucking in the woods like these truckers,” he spat, somewhat surprised by his own vitriol. It came out harsher than he’d intended, the heavy pause that followed making it seem even harsher. It was how he’d felt, he had an image in his mind about truckers and the kinds of guys who had to resort to anonymous encounters in the woods, but he didn’t need to be as direct in expressing his feelings to a stranger.

When the man’s eyes suddenly shone like a cat’s, Donny knew he was in over his head. But, before he could turn to leave, the man pulled out his phone and blinded him with the flash. “Who’s this, then?”

Donny blinked and rubbed the spots from his eyes, blushing a fresh shade of pink when he saw the picture of the hairy, naked hulk on the stranger’s phone. Whoever he was, the man was covered in a chestnut pelt everywhere except his shiny scalp. His round cheeks and full chin were obscured by a trimmed beard that made his bald head all the more noticeable, the spherical features a perfect complement to the body below. Everything about the man was meaty and thick, from his broad shoulders, trunk-like arms, and the heavy slab of a chest that rested on his protruding, gravity-defying gut. If it wasn’t so huge, the man’s club of a cock and grapefruit balls likely wouldn’t have been visible at all between his thick, furry thighs. It was clear from the naked brute’s imposing stature that he had a decent amount of muscle, but it was buried beneath a layer of supple flesh and scruffy fur.

As he stared at the picture, Donny’s stomach dropped from an impossible dread. He told himself the full features beneath the stranger’s beard weren’t actually familiar, that he didn’t recognize the bright, eager eyes as his own. If he didn’t look away from the photo, he wouldn’t see the source of the sudden heaviness he felt, or discover why the warm evening air wafted across his entire body. He wasn’t really rubbing against himself as he shifted his weight, or experiencing the unfamiliar sensation of a smooth scalp looming hairless above his wide eyes. “Who…who is…that…” he started, cutting off in a gasp when he heard the deep, unfamiliar tone of his voice.

“Who do you think,” the man asked with an icy grin, putting his phone away.

“FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME,” Donny cried when he finally looked down, coming face to face with the hairy, beefy body he’d just seen on screen. He squirmed against himself, unable to escape the sensation of meaty flesh pressing against meaty flesh. Even though he hadn’t moved, he felt heavy and cumbersome, his lithe, nimble frame a thing of the past. He clutched his hefty gut in horror, wincing at both the abundant girth and the feeling of his soft carpet against his rugged new hands. “Look at this belly! I’m fucking huge!” he cried, giving his meaty midsection a rough rub. The motion sparked an unexpected reaction from his fattened cock, but Donny didn’t have the bandwidth to appreciate his colossal new club.

“I didn’t do anything,” the man said, his tone as casual as ever. “This was the image in YOUR head, not mine. Okay, so I technically opened the door,” he shrugged. “But you’re the one who stepped through. Such a juicy picture in there,” he purred, squeezing the front of his shorts. “If a bit inaccurate. You know truckers can look like me, too, right? We can actually drive AND stay in shape like you. We can even be casters. Shocking, isn’t it,” he laughed, his eyes flashing again. “Maybe some firsthand experience will help give you a new perspective. So judgy,” the man tutted, shaking his head.

“What? No! I’m…I’m not a…I don’t drive a…” Donny sputtered, desperately pushing back against the odd memories in his head. He told himself he worked in an office, that he spent all his time in the gym, not in the cab of a big rig. He refused to believe that one of those trucks he’d seen in the lot was his, that this was just a stop for the night while he hauled a load from one coast to the other. “Oh god…what…what’s happening,” he stammered, already struggling to remember which of his lives was the real one.

“You’re about to relieve some of that tension we talked about,” the man laughed, nodding down the trail behind Donny. “I’d stick around and join, but I think I’ll head up the road to the next stop and see what’s what.”

“Big D! Holy shit! There you are!”

Donny winced as he gave another startled jump, feeling himself shake and move in unfamiliar ways as he spun on his heel. His inflated cheeks jiggled and bounced with the motion, his hefty thighs rubbing together as he gawked at the familiar pair lumbering towards him. The man he’d just seen getting pounded was still naked, while his husky companion still wore an open button down but now carried his discarded bottoms with him. He had no idea who the men were but they clearly knew him, just like his twitching cock knew what was coming. He glanced back over his shoulder in search of an explanation from the young stranger, but he was nowhere in sight.

The bearded, bottomless man continued speaking, oblivious to Donny’s confusion. “Saw your rig out front…figured you’d be back here. We’ve never met in person, but we’ve talked a bunch. Leg Man,” he said, nodding down to the swaying namesake between his chunky thighs.

“Wild Child,” the naked beefcake next to him grinned as he introduced himself. “Really hoped we’d run into you sooner or later. You’re a legend on these roads.”

“Guess it’s our lucky night,” Donny grunted, screaming at himself as he started tugging on his rapidly hardening cock. He hated the way his thickened forearm brushed against his furry gut in the process, but the last thing he wanted to do was stop. He was still perfectly aware of what just happened, that he’d been warped and thickened and magicked into an alternate life in the woods behind a rest stop; he just didn’t care. Donny didn’t understand how magic or casters worked, but his body clearly had an understanding of its role in this new reality and was eager to comply.

He was on his knees before he even stopped to think about it, slurping Wild Child’s fat, musky hose into his mouth. Donny winced again at the strange sensation of the other man’s fingers on his now-smooth scalp, but he was more focused on how much he enjoyed the warm rod hitting the back of his throat. On his knees in the woods, he felt strangely powerful, registering the sheer size of his new bulk for the first time. It was a body the likes of which Donny had always dreaded, but, now that he had it, he was starting to wonder if he’d been wrong all along. In a surprisingly smooth motion, he grabbed Wild Child by the knees and brought the hirsute hulk to the ground, letting him continue slurping away while also presenting his fattened rear to Leg Man for the taking.

His new friend needed no further encouragement, and Donny let out a muffled, ecstatic howl around Wild Child’s oozing cock. The pain was bright and blissful, and the former-jock writhed and bucked while Leg Man clutched fistfuls of freshly sprouted back hair and hung on like he was riding a bull. Much to Donny’s delight and dismay, it was very obvious that he was very versed with such activities, as even the feeling of the forest detritus against his knees felt comfortingly familiar. His mind flashed back to what Wild Child had just said, that he was a legend, and Donny was quickly realizing how true that label actually was. He wasn’t embarrassed by the thought of being stuffed at both ends in public; he was turned on. It was the thought of these illicit romps that carried him from stop to stop just as much as his truck did, a never ending series of uninhibited encounters in woods, truck stop showers, parking lots, and the back of big rigs across the country. The thrill of discovery only added to the arousal, as was evident by the way he abruptly dropped Wild Child’s cock from his mouth and slipped off the end of Leg Man’s cock, letting both of them erupt all over his hairy torso instead of inside him. He loved the taste and the feeling of taking a load, but he liked wearing the matted fur as a badge of honor even more. He laid on the forest floor and let the pair take turns pumping away on his inflated club, the sheer size and girth nearly double that which it had been.

Donny groaned and writhed until he added his own puddle to the sticky coating, feeling freshly mortified when all he did afterwards was slip into a pair of dingy sweatpants that had replaced his previous clothes. His protruding new gut hung over the waist and strained around his thickened thighs, the clinging cotton doing nothing to obscure his massive, recently spent package. He didn’t even try to hide the sticky fur, and, as they approached the tree line, Donny was horrified at the thought of strutting shirtless across the lot to his impossible new truck, letting everyone see what they’d just done.

But that was how his legend grew, and how he let everyone know what he had to offer. The old Donny was mortified at the certainty that he’d add to his crusty coating before the night was done, and since there was no shower at this rest stop he’d get to wear that coating all through the next day.

And it was going to be a long one. As he climbed into his cab and waited for someone to knock on the door, he remembered just how far he still had to go. He was looking at days on the road before he could drop his load, but, despite the anxious voice in his head saying otherwise, that suited him just fine. He’d take plenty of loads in between, and there was nowhere he’d rather be than on the open road.

**********

Voting Options:

Option 1: A caster puts men into a magical world inside a snow globe, causing them to change every time he shakes it. (muscle growth, shrinking, various)

Option 2: An overworked caster on a lackluster vacation decides to create the beach montage of his dreams. (muscle growth, cock growth, stripped, himbo)

Option 3: A holistic health center run by an unlicensed caster has an enchanted “meditation labyrinth” that causes people to change depending on which path they take. (uninhibited, stripped, submissive)

Option 4: A retired caster running an antique store sells a cursed game of Battleship, causing the men playing to lose parts of themselves whenever a boat is sunk. (muscle theft, cock shrink, shrinking, voice change, femme)