Okay, Paul had to admit it; he was lost. He had tried to take a shortcut on the county highways to avoid the toll booths. His smartphone had kept telling him to turn around and head back to the interstate, but Paul stubbornly ignored it until he finally just turned the damn thing off. That turned out to be a mistake. By the time he realized that he was hopelessly lost, the phone couldn’t get a signal. He cursed, thinking that he had downloaded enough maps that it should be able to pick up something, but nothing. As a result, Paul had now spent two hours trying to find his way back to the interstate. He figured that just driving in a straight line would get him somewhere that would allow him to find his way, but that wasn’t helping him in the least.
The sun was just above the horizon, its long golden rays shimmering through the tree branches announcing the oncoming night. Paul felt his pulse quicken a little. He didn’t want to be out here alone after dark. He looked down at his cell phone. The batteries were just about drained and he had left his charger back at home. Paul started to feel a bit of panic in the back of his throat. He had to find someplace to use a phone, preferably without having to go up to some random person’s house.
Just as the sun dipped below the horizon, Paul saw a bar sign straight ahead. His heart leapt at the thought of being able to stop somewhere. Getting closer, he could see that it seemed kind of scuzzy looking, but he wasn’t going to complain. The parking lot was entirely gravel, with the standard neon beer advertisement signs in the window. A couple of beaten down trucks and a few old sedans were parked out front.
Paul walked in, hoping that the place wasn’t too rough. In the back of his mind, he knew that most places tended to be pretty friendly, but this could be one of those exceptions. The place wasn’t too big; it gave the impression of one of those old timey bars that you tended to see old men in.
There were a grand total of five guys inside. The bartender was entirely grey and had something of a fierce look to him. He briefly made eye contact with Paul, who felt a shiver run down his spine. Two men were sitting at the bar, one a somewhat muscular guy who who had a thick, white streak running through his black hair; the other a tall, thin, lanky man with a horseshoe mustache. The thin man looked back at Paul and a big smile spread across his face; he gave a small wave Paul’s way. The other two guys in the bar were sitting at a table off to the side, chatting. Both were wearing cowboy hats and flannel, and they were both huge but in different ways. The one looked like a solid slab of beef practically bursting out of his clothes, with a full beard covering his face. The other one looked like he could stand to lose some weight, his gut hanging out from under his flannel shirt. Paul caught a little bit of his butt crack peaking out above the top of his jeans.
Paul walked over to the tall, thin man at the bar, who seemed like he might be reasonably helpful. “Hey, uh, how’s it going tonight?”
The man took a swig of beer and smiled broader than before. “Pretty good now that you’re here.”
Paul gave a bit of a nervous laugh. It was the sort of thing that danced up to the line of being creepy, but not quite. “Hey, I was wondering if you could help me. I’m trying to get back to the interstate, but I guess I kind of got lost.”
The man took another sip. “Well, you’re not lost anymore. We found you, didn’t we?” He gave a little chuckle at that. “The name’s Buck, pleased to meet ya,” he said, holding out his hand to Paul.
Paul tentatively took the hand and shook. “I’m Paul. Paul Barr.”
“That’s a good name, Paul Paul Barr. Where are you headed to?”
“I’m going to the Chicago area. If I can back to Interstate 55, it should only be about two hours before I get back home.”
“Chicago?” Buck put his drink down with a concerned look on his face. “We’re not anywhere close to Chicago. Or 55 for that matter.”
“That can’t be right. I was on Interstate 55 when I got off and got lost.”
Buck finished his beer. “Hmmm. I don’t know how that can be, but you’re not getting to Chicago tonight. Tell you what, regardless, you’re a long way from home. How about I buy you a beer and then I’ll let you know a good place to stay and you can get it all squared away tomorrow morning?”
“Listen, Buck, thanks, but I don’t know …”
“No, no, no, no, no, I insist. I bet you’ve been driving a good long while. You could use a refresher.”
Paul hesitated. He wanted to get back on the road, but he also didn’t want to insult the man. “Uh, sure. Thanks. One drink couldn’t hurt.”
“Good man. Hey, Walter.” The stern looking bartender turned to Buck. “I think this fellow would like a polar ale. He seems like the type.” Walter gave a look Buck’s way that Paul couldn’t interpret and then turned around to grab the drink. Buck turned back to Paul. “Trust me, pal, you’ll like it.”
Walter pulled out a glass mug and poured a beer straight from the tap. After he set it down, Paul licked his lips at the site. It did look good. Thick white foam fizzed on top of a golden-brown ale. On the mug itself, a cartoon polar bear was giving a thumbs up in the middle of a black background.
Walter served Buck another beer, who held it up and the two men clinked the mugs together. “Bottoms up.” Paul brought the beer to his lips and took a large gulp.
Paul wasn’t expecting the sensation. It went beyond taste; it was like the ale hit his stomach and immediately the cold spread out through his limbs. Paul gasped and his breath condensed right in front of him when he breathed out like he was outside on a frosty winter morning. Paul had to steady himself, wondering if he had just imagined that and feeling a little light-headed. “Good stuff, huh?” Buck asked.
Paul nodded, tipping back the mug for more. “Yeah. Good stuff.” The next gulp was still cold and refreshing, but not as dramatic. Paul reasoned that he just hadn’t been prepared the first time.
Buck ordered another polar ale after Paul finished the first one. Paul started to reach for his wallet but Buck insisted on covering it. “You don’t know where you are. As far as I’m concerned you need an improvement on your day.” Paul tipped back the second drink with a thank you, already feeling pretty tipsy. Normally, he could hold his liquor pretty well but this polar ale was pretty strong. The two of them chatted for a couple of hours, Paul getting more comfortable around Buck. Something about him just felt so warm and friendly. Buck actually knew quite a few jokes and on more than one occasion, Paul found himself laughing out loud. After the third (or the fourth, or maybe the fifth) polar ale, Paul was good and drunk, in absolutely no shape to get back on the road.
“Hey Paul, you ever hear this one? Two deer walk out of a gay bar. One says to the other, ‘Man, I can’t believe we just blew forty bucks.’” Buck immediately exploded with laughter. Paul chuckled and went back to his beer; it was pretty funny.
Suddenly, Paul realized that he needed to take care of something. All of that beer was really starting to get to him. “Uh, Buck, where’s the, uh, you know, men’s room?” Buck pointed to a door in the back of the bar. Paul thanked him and quickly shuffled back to take care of nature.
The bathroom was pretty tight, with a couple of urinals right next to each other and a single, cramped stall. He sauntered to one of the urinals, mentally commenting on the lack of dividers between the two and hoping that nobody else had to go at the same time. And just as he started, the White Hair Streak Guy came in and stood right next to Paul at the other urinal. The two of them were so close that it was downright difficult to not see the other guy’s manhood as he pissed. Paul kept his eyes up to avoid looking.
“Hey buddy,” said the other man. Paul looked over at him. “I’m Brandon. How’s it going?”
Paul smiled. “I’m feeling pretty good. That beer Buck got for me is pretty good.”
“Uh huh.” Out of the corner of his eye, Paul could see Brandon look down. What was he looking at? “Nice cock you got there.” Paul looked over at him and made eye contact. The man had a sly grin on his face.
“Uh, thanks.” He felt a little perturbed at just how forward Brandon was, but also … , well, kind of grateful for the compliment. Paul looked down at the other man’s dick, still pissing into the urinal. “You’ve got a nice cock, too.” Paul felt more than a little weird at the compliment, but what else could he respond with?
Brandon’s grin widened a little and Paul saw him get a little harder at that. “Thanks, man. See you around.” He finished up, then walked out of the bathroom without washing his hands. Paul shook his head at the utter bizarreness of the situation, wondering what had come over him. He had strangely gotten a bit of a thrill at the exchange.
He walked to the sink, being sure to wash his hands. Looking at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help but think that something looked different about him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Maybe it just all of the stubble on his face. It looked a lot thicker than his normal five o’clock shadow. Was his face a little rounder than normal? Maybe it was just how incredibly drunk he was right now. Paul splashed his face to try to sober up a little, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something here was incredibly off.
Walking out, Paul saw that both Beefy Cowboy Hat Guy and Chubby Cowboy Hat Guy had gone shirtless and were now holding hands. Paul couldn’t help but stare at the two. As it turned out, Beefy was even more ripped than Paul had thought, with a full six-pack under a large, hairy chest. Chubby on the other hand had an ample set of moobs capped with nipples a good two inches in diameter on top of a large gut hung out as an apron over his pants. Both of them were covered in pretty thick pelts of body hair The two were making out with each other. Paul gaped. He didn’t have anything against gay people, but it was certainly strange to see two shirtless guys making out in a public place like this. Strange, and kind of hot, to be honest. He casually massaged his hardening cock through his pants.
He walked back to the barstool with Buck and Brandon, who had each gone shirtless themselves. Thankfully, Buck had gotten another frosty, cold ale for Paul, who happily gulped it down. Paul looked over Buck’s body, which was thin and lean. He started to find it difficult to take his eyes off of the guy.
“So, Paul, how are you feeling right now?”
Paul finished his pint in a couple of chugs and swayed on the barstool. He let out a loud belch, followed by a big grin. “I’m doing pretty good. I gotta say, I’m more than a little plastered. Don’t think I should drive right now.”
Buck grinned at that. “Well, that just means you get to stay and enjoy my company a little longer.” He motioned to the bartender. “Hey, Walter, another Polar Ale for my good friend here.”
Paul tipped his mug back to get the last few drops. “That sounds good, buddy.” Walter quickly produced another mug of ale. Paul started to chug the beer but something caught the corner of his eye. Chubby Cowboy Hat Guy was on the ground doing … something. Paul could hear loud moaning coming from over the Cowboy Hat Guys’ way.
He started to turn back to see what was going on but Buck caught his attention. “Don’t worry about those guys. We’ve got time for each other. You like this place don’t you?”
Something about Buck’s voice was calming, almost hypnotic. Paul made eye contact with him and immediately felt a serenity flowing through him that he had never felt before. “Yeah, it’s a great place. I’ll need to stop by the next time I’m in the area.”
“You know, Paul, you can stay as long as you like. You don’t want to head back home too soon, do you?”
Without answering, Paul managed to tear his gaze away from Buck’s eyes long enough to drain the rest of his polar ale, though a significant amount drained around his mouth and down into his shirt. Once again he made eye contact, resulting in Buck giving a big smile. Paul couldn’t help but smile back. Just being with Buck was so incredibly nice. Buck reached over and started massaging Paul’s right forearm. An electric charge seemed to shoot through Paul’s body, resulting in his cock turning rock hard. Walter placed another polar ale in front of Paul who started drinking without taking his eyes off of Buck.
Buck rubbed Paul’s chest, resulting in a soft moan from Paul’s lips. Brandon pulled his barstool closer behind Paul, who was liking the other man’s breath on his neck. Buck pulled in closer and wrapped his arms around Paul’s neck. Paul couldn’t help but feel that this wasn’t right. But it was just so fucking hot.
Buck pulled in closer, briefly locking lips with Paul. Paul felt the kiss like a bolt of electricity and kissed back. Brandon got in behind him, kissing the back of his neck and cheeks. Something about all of this felt very off but it all just felt so fucking good to Paul. Buck’s hand moved further up Paul’s arm. The noises from the two Cowboy Hat Guys was getting louder but Paul was too distracted to notice much. Buck pulled him in tighter, kissing deeper as Brandon massaged Paul’s back under his shirt.
But now the noises were louder than ever. Paul managed to tear himself away from Buck long enough to see what was going on. He saw the Beefy Cowboy Hat Guy standing with his pants at his ankles while Chubby Cowboy Hat Guy was on his knees giving the slab of beef a blow job. Beefy was moaning loudly while he played with his nipples and Chubby worked hard on him.
Beefy’s grunts got louder and more intense as Chubby’s rate of sucking increased. Finally, Beefy let out an intense “Fuuuuccckkkk!” followed by semen leaking out of Chubby’s mouth. When all was said and done, Chubby got up to head towards Paul. The two of them locked lips, with a glob of Beefy’s spunk being fed into Paul’s mouth. He relished the flavor, causing him to leak into his pants and he gave Chubby some deep-throated kisses for good measure.
With that done, he turned back towards Buck, where they made out for a couple more minutes. Buck pulled back a little with a grin on his face. “I’m a bottom.”
Paul scrunched up his face in confusion. “You’re a … what?”
“Just do what comes naturally.” Buck pulled his pants down, revealing a long, thin dick with a low hanging nut sack, framed by a thick brown pubic bush. He got down onto his hands and knees and raised his ass into the air. Paul licked his lips at the site of Buck’s puckering asshole. He just wanted to taste it so bad. A part of him knew that this was absolutely batshit insane, but his loins demanded that he proceed. Paul’s cock strained against his pants, so he unzipped to let his raging boner out, along with a few tugs for good measure. After a moment’s hesitation, he started eating Buck out with gusto.
Paul had no idea giving a guy a rim job could be so pleasurable. His cock began leaking heavily onto the floor. The other bar patrons eyed each other knowingly; Paul was just about too far to go back. Brandon grabbed Paul’s beer mug. “Hey, Paul.”
Paul turned his attention away from the task at hand, slightly irritated at the interruption. “Yeah, what you want?”
Brandon held up the frosty cold mug. “You haven’t finished this yet. How about you take a few swigs before you go back to that rim job?”
Paul looked at the mug longingly, licking his lips, drooling a little at the memory of the sweet sensation of that beer. “Yeah. Thanks, pal.” Brandon handed the mug down to Paul, who took a couple quick gulps. Satisfied, he set the mug back down and went back to the task at hand of enjoying Buck’s sweaty asshole.
However, something interrupted the fun. Pain abruptly erupted from Paul’s right foot, causing him to pull out of Buck’s ass crack. He tried to stand up, but the pain was too intense to put weight on the foot. Paul fell backwards, landing with a loud grunt. It felt like something was clamping his foot in a vice.
Paul stared shocked at his shoe. His right sneaker looked like someone was blowing it up like a balloon. A couple seams split, followed by his toes emerging from the end. Paul’s eyes bugged out in shock. The tatters of the shoe and remains of his sock held on for a little while before falling away. What was left behind was a monster of a foot that wasn’t just larger, but more rounded than his original foot. Not only that, his nails had gotten sharper. “The fuck??!!”
Suddenly, the same pain emerged in his left foot. Paul managed to kick the shoe off before it was damaged, relieving some of the pressure and revealing a sock expanding with his foot inside. Soon enough, the sock split open, revealing the same large rounded foot. Before his eyes, Paul watched the toenails sharpen and turn black on both feet, resembling claws. Not only that, the bottoms of his feet turned black and grew strange, rough callouses.
“Guys. Guys! You’ve got to help me! What’s happening? I… I can’t be hallucinating, can I? I’m tripping!”
“Don’t worry about it, Paul,” Brandon said. Paul looked over at him. Something was happening with his face. “It’s nothing bad. Trust me. You’ll be thanking us soon enough.” Brandon kicked his boots off and dropped his pants, revealing a full hard on. He then leaned against the bar and seemed to be in some sort of pain. The white streak in his hair spread down his face and down his back, with black fur spreading across his body.
Paul turned back to his feet, which now had thick white hairs growing all over them. Before his eyes, the feet quickly became covered in the strange white hairs.
Paul looked at the other guys standing before him. Except they weren’t the same guys. Now, they were all different animal people, nude and hard and leaking on the floor. The two cowboy hat guys were revealed to be a fat pig man and a muscular minotaur. Brandon stood as a skunk man, a large black and white tail curled up behind him. The bartender was actively changing before him into a grey wolfman, tearing through his clothes and showing him to be a true monster.
Paul tried backing up to get away from them. “What the fuck? What the fuck?!”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Paul.” He looked over at Buck, now revealed as a tall, lithe deer man, a pair of antlers perched on his head. Paul’s mouth hung open in awe; he was so handsome. “This is where you belong.” Buck got down onto his hands and knees, once again presenting his asshole to Paul.
He tried his best to get back in control of himself but all of the sensations and everybody in front of him was completely screwing with his head. Now his hands were growing the same callouses, now quite obviously paw pads with the same black claws tipping his fingers. The white fur spread from his feet up his legs, which were also gaining a significant amount of muscle. Really, everything about him was getting bigger. Paul could now see his nose expanding out in front of his face with a black, wet tip.
He got up onto his knees, holding up his hand paws in shock unable to figure what to do, but with a dripping cock waiting for release. The mug of beer lay spilled next to him, the polar bear on the mug giving its same grin and thumbs up, seemingly mocking him now. A new stubby tail had sprouted just above his ass crack. Paul’s expanding stomach and chest finally tore his undershirt apart. His face had gotten more bearish, with a black, wet nose tipping an expanding muzzle and rounded ears. Even his black hair was quickly getting replaced by the white hair.
Paul’s nutsack had expanded significantly, resulting in a great deal of testosterone pumping into his system. His brain told him that everything about this was wrong, that he should run, that he should find some way to get help and change back to the way that he was. But looking at Buck there, presenting his hole, all for him, Paul felt it in his bones. He had to get inside of him. Fur quickly spread down his stomach to cover the now quite fat paunch he had.
Paul stood straight up and kicked the remnants of his pants off, now standing nearly seven feet tall. Fur now covered nearly every square inch of his body. His large belly almost belied the muscle that he now packed on down his arms, across his broad shoulders and over his massive pecs. The transformation was nearly complete, only his expanding muzzle still needing to fully flesh out. A fang filled smile crossed his face. Paul walked right up to Buck, then leaned down on him, putting most of his substantial weight onto the deer. He moved his hips forward and rubbed his throbbing cock over Buck’s furry nut sack. The sensation caused him to blow out a small load of precum.
After a couple minutes of rubbing, Paul’s dick finally found purchase and entered into Buck’s willing hole. He was so tight. The warmth and moisture felt heavenly. He began thrusting in and out, unable to stop himself. Brandon stood in front of Paul, face-fucking the now fully transformed polar bear man while he simultaneously fucked Buck. Walter got behind Brandon and entered into him, somehow managing to time his fucks with Brandon.
Paul had now completely given in to the bear, fucking furiously as he sucked Brandon’s cock. In between his fucks, he saw the chubby wild boar man fucking the minotaur on a nearby table, both grunting loudly. Paul couldn’t help it anymore. Everything going on was so hot; he gave a few long, powerful thrusts followed by one long thrust and began filling Buck up, in the most powerful orgasm of his life. At the same time, Brandon unloaded into his mouth and Walter howled as he climaxed inside of the skunk-man.
Paul collapsed, panting loudly from the sheer exhaustion of it all. Walter and Brandon cuddled him from both sides and he kissed each in turn, with Buck still recovering from under him.
…
Derek drove through the countryside, now fully kicking himself for wanting to take “the scenic route.” He had been trying to reach a trade conference at a lake resort and figured that the main highway was too boring, so why not go onto the county highways and see all of the natural beauty of the hills. And it had been nice. For about 20 minutes. Then, his phone was unable to get a signal and the battery was now completely dead, with Derek having left the car charger at home.
The now three hour long detour had Derek thinking that he would not make it to the cocktail social, and there were few things that he liked more than free booze. Feeling that he had little choice, he decided that he needed to stop, if for no other reason than to get directions. He was soon relieved to see the welcoming neon glow of a country bar sign. Derek pulled into the parking lot. If nothing else, he could have a drink and get directions back to the interstate.
Derek walked in through the door. The place wasn’t very busy. A man with a white stripe running through his hair was at a table talking to two other guys wearing cowboy hats. A thin, lanky man sat at the bar nursing a beer. The bartender glanced at Derek before grabbing a full tray and moving towards the group of three. The place didn’t give off a very welcoming vibe, but Derek had been in rougher bars than this. He grabbed a stool and sat down, waiting for the bartender to finish with the other fellows.
Just then, a large man walked out of the bathroom and sat down next to Derek. The guy beamed a bright smile at him; Derek glanced over and smiled back; it was strangely infectious. The guy looked like he was probably in his 50s or 60s, but still in decent shape. No doubt, he could stand to lose some pounds with part of his gut hanging out from under his shirt, but he was also pretty muscular and the way that he carried himself suggested that he was still capable of holding his own. The man’s hair was stark white all over, including his beard and the chest hair that was visible above his red flannel shirt. The man reached out a large, muscular hand to Derek.
“Hey buddy. Nice to meet you. I’m Paul. What’s your name?”