This is a sequel to last month’s bonus story! There’s rednecks and bikers and incest and plenty of smoke, if that’s your thing! Every patron supporting me at $5 or more a month gets access to this story, and all the other bonus stories from months past! Here’s a sample, for those who are curious.
As he walked, the smoke from the cigar Kegger was smoking drifted and swirled and surrounded him, clinging to his clothes and his body. He didn’t notice as the tanktop and gym shorts he’d been wearing for the last academic year began to shift and shudder on his body, and become something else entirely. The tank expanded, hugging his fat body, turning into a greasy and holey wifebeater, a flannel vest appearing around his shoulders, the shoulders frayed from being ripped off. The shorts grew longer, becoming grungy denim while a pair of suspender straps grew up and over his gut and down his back, holding the new jeans high, making his gut protrude even further over his waistline. Lastly, his sneakers became an old pair of cowboy boots hugging his big feet. He reached a bench near the pumps and settled down on it with a grunt and a fart, still chuffing on the cigar, feeling much better already, and it wound off, searching through the few truckers busy filling up their tanks in the night. It found it’s way to a young man named Garth, slimmer than the others filling up their tank, tickled his nose, and he sneezed, looked over, and saw the hefty trucker on the bench smoking a cigar.
“What a disgusting fucking pig,” Garth thought, and looked away, again, trying not to think about how hard his cock hand gotten in his jeans. He missed his wife, sure–been away for nearly a week–but something about that nasty fat ass…he shook his head, and as he did, his hair shifted, growing longer in the back even as the front shortened, turning into a classic mullet, his clean shaven face sprouting a horseshoe mustache around his mouth and down his chin, even as his body began to bulk up. Garth had never been a big guy, standing at just five foot five and 150 pounds, but the more smoke he inhaled, he began to inflate, his arms and legs bulking with muscle as he grew a bit taller, cresting six feet in a few moments. Pretty soon, a very different Garth was standing there at the pump, ogling the fat pig across the way, groping his nine inch cock, sniffing his ripe pits, feeling his muscles flex as he thought about all the nasty shit he could do to a dirty fuck like that.
The smoke lured him closer to the bench, while the truck finished filling up, and he came around, Kegger surprised by the sight of the massive redneck looming over him, staring down at him hungrily, cock bulging in the front of his jeans, a bit of tobacco spit leaking down his chin. Before he could react, Garth plucked the cigar from his mouth, took a deep inhale, bent down and locked lips with Kegger, shoving the smoke into him, and as he did…thoughts and memories came with it, things that couldn’t possibly be true…and yet, when the broke off the kiss, Garth leering down at him, Kegger…knew him.
“Come on ya dumbfuck, truck’s full up ‘n yer fat ass needs a good fuckin’ plowin’.” Garth said.
“But I…I’s waitin’ fer someone…” Kegger muttered, and Garth smacked him upside the head.
“No shit dumbshit! Yer waitin’ fer me tah fill the truck. Now git on in there faggot–I gotta piss like a fuckin’ horse too.”
Unable to understand what was happening, but also unable to resist, Kegger hefted himself up from the bench and followed the muscular Garth back to the truck, his lust building at the sight of the massive young redneck cuffing on the cigar, seeming to grow even larger as he walked, hair sprouting all over his body, his ripe BO wafting back to Kegger’s nose, making him salivate. He climbed up into the passenger seat, and by the time Garth had the truck parked, he had his huge cock slammed in Kegger’s throat, feeding him a massive load of beer flavored piss–and then shoved him into the sleeper behind the seats for a nasty fuck Kegger wouldn’t soon forget, even as the details of his old life faded away with the shrinking cigar, until all that remained of them was a shadow.
October Bonus Story: Kegger’s Summer Vacation | Wesley Bracken on Patreon
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