Travel Buddies
By Limerick
Percy (short for Percival) pulled up to the curb and honked three times, trying to make the horn sound jaunty and fun.
It was a mistake. Each blast seared through his head, casting sparks right where the headache seemed to be centered. He had woken up with a splitting, burning migraine. It was a strange one. Percy had nursed bad headaches all through a long adolescence, but this one was poised right in the center of his head. It seemed very concentrated, like spiky, jagged metal bits had been injected into the center of his brain, then rattled like change in a cup.
He winced.
Erika flounced out a few moments later, clutching a baggy duffle as well as an oversized purse. She was a big girl, with a big frame. Already, at eighteen, parts of her were wobbling. Chin. Thighs. Stomach. She hid what she could underneath a zip-up hoodie, and underneath thick tan pants.
She climbed into the passenger seat, then tossed her duffel carelessly into the back, where it hit the other passenger across the chest.
“Ow,” Lisa said, mildly. She was always less loud and more constrained then anyone else in a given room. Getting thwacked across the chest with a suitcase only merited a short protest.
“That stung,” Lisa said. In Lisa-speak, that meant that it had really hurt. Petite to the point of scrawny, Lisa was angular, with light tan skin marred by rampant acne. She wore a grey tank top, loose-fitting, and blue jeans, plus grey shoes, in a festival of grey that made its own pro-tedium fashion statement.
Percy had asked Lisa what she wanted for Christmas. “Something boring,” she had told him. It wasn’t a joke.
“Okay team,” Percy said, squeezing the headache away. The tylenol had to kick in soon. “What are we?”
“Champions,” the girls said. Erika with fake enthusiasm, Lisa in monotone, rubbing her unpadded chest.
“Then lets go kick some Math-a-lon butt,” Percy said, and drove off.
ONRAMP, ROUTE FIFTEEN, EASTBOUND
The headache hadn’t gotten any better. In fact, each bounce over roads last repaved in the nineties added a note of agony to the ongoing symphony. At least, as the driver, Percy could brace his jostling head as they ramped over cracks in the asphalt. It didn’t help that he was driving a hand-me-down PT Cruiser with unreplaced shocks.
Erika’s ability to chatter to herself wasn’t helping.
“I warned my Mom. I told her, for Christmas I want Japanese-only anime DVDs she needs to import from some bootleggers I know in Hong Kong. And she’s like, if I can’t get it at Barnes and Noble, it might as well not exist, because it is dead to me.”
“Uh huh,” Lisa said. Percy had no idea why she encouraged Erika. Lisa hated pop culture. Percy had once seen her family’s DVR, and recoiled from a solid block of History Channel documentaries. If she had a guilty pleasure, it was probably something like a Hershey bar every other month.
“And I’m like, Mom, if you get me another gift certificate to Macy’s I swear I am going to spend it on bras and make funny hats out of them. I am totally happy with my wardrobe. It keeps me warm.”
Another pothole. The headache spiked, the jagged little rocks in his head scattering all at once, leaping into the soft fleshy parts and radiating out, like a bag of flechettes. Percy swore.
Something strange happened.
Erika stopped talking. The jagged-edge headache faded, not gone, but faded, and Percy could think and talk again.
He glanced in the rear view mirror. Then looked again.
Lisa’s face had always been covered in red pockmarks, as long as he had known her. Both cheeks red and fiery. She had never complained about it, he had never asked about it.
Now they were… gone. Entirely.
Lisa looked… much better. She had pale, drawn cheeks with flawless skin, smooth and perfect. And that made it so much easier to admire the rest of her. Had she always had such crisp, drawn lips, slightly open, with a light gloss? And was that makeup on her eyes, pulling and teasing out raven-black eyebrows?
“Hey, Lisa, I’m glad your skin cleared up,” he said, probing. Lisa touched gently at an upturned nose.
“Oh, that stupid zit I had on my nose? It was a volcano, I know. I’ve got some product that zaps the nightmares, though. I’d hate to go to math-a-lon with a blemish besides my shaky grasp of polyhedrons,” Lisa said.
This was maybe the longest sentence Lisa had ever said. And it wasn’t… consistent. With reality as Percy knew it.
He drove on, thoughtful.
EASTBOUND, ROUTE FIFTEEN, SLOW LANE
Erika hadn’t spoken since the headache surge. Glancing over, it became clear why. Something was wrong underneath her sweater.
There were tits growing underneath it.
The zip-up hoodie wasn’t handling it well, and neither was Erika. She kept shifting back and forth, slumping, then sitting up straight, disgruntlement writ on her face. She smoothed the hoodie down, and that showcased a pair of melon-sized boobs that had apparently grown in the past few minutes. They were still growing, filling in, partially visible underneath the light cotton cover. Percy had trouble keeping his eyes on the road. His neighbor was ascending cups, before his eyes, and didn’t seem at all aware of it, minus some light discomfort.
“I’m crazy,” Percy thought, convinced of it.
Schizophrenia hit teenagers. It was his turn. The headache was proof. Erika had always had neglible boobs, considering her heft, but she was sprouting a weighty chest just to his right.
He tried to stay at 65 miles per hour.
“Okay, I don’t see where I have any choice,” Erika finally pronounced. Her chest growth had settled down. From what Percy could tell, she now sported high-riding teardrops nestled on the top of her frame. “Percy, are you a boy or a man?”
“Think carefully,” Lisa said.
“…Man,” Percy said. The headache began to build again.
“Because my puppies are barking, and I need to put on the sensitivity cream. I expect you to be a gentleman about this.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know how I have to excuse myself every half-hour since last summer? Have we had this conversation? It’s because my boobs grew freakishly large over the summer and I need to put cream on them or they get all… sensitive.”
“So it’s unsensitivity cream,” Lisa broke in, and giggled again. That made twice in the last decade.
“Go ahead,” Percy said.
Erika huffed, reached into her purse, and pulled out a big medicinal white tub. Then she reached underneath her jacket, one-handed, and unlatched her bra. A few expert moves and she tugged it out and held it up. It looked like an engineering project, wire with lace. Her boobs moved downward not at all.
“I don’t need it,” she proclaimed, defiant. “Just saying.”
The girl scooped out a huge dollop of white cream, reached underneath, and started to stroke. It took her a good long time, moving back and forth. Apparently she had a lot of square acreage to cover.
“There,” she finally proclaimed, removing her hand. It was sticky. She sighed, relieved. The bra she tossed onto Percy’s lap. “That’s your reward for not making any lewd remarks. One free bra. I’m going commando for the rest of the trip. You can use it to shore up weak structural supports in your home.”
“Thanks,” Percy said. His cock had started to throb. The timing matched his head.
NORTHBOUND, ROUTE FIFTEEN
“Truth or dare,” Erika said.
“Uh… dare,” Percy said. Erika was virtually glowing since she had covered her boobs in light white cream. In fact, she kept one hand underneath the jacket, and Percy’s imagination was very busy conjuring up her finger’s activities.
“No, dare is stupid. There is no dare on the road, you’ll have to do truth,” Lisa said. She kept smiling, and had her legs up across the entire back row.
“Fine, truth truth truth,” Percy said.
“Are you… a leg man, or a boob man?” Lisa said. And coyly crossed her legs once she was sure he was looking in the rear view.
“Whoa, that’s not fair,” Erika said, objecting.
“Thanks, Erika,” Percy said.
“It’s unnecessarily restrictive. There’s ass men, there’s men with weird and kinky fetishes.. it’s not just ass man or boob man. How about it, Percy? You like tying girls down? Maybe some light spanking?”
Both girls joined in the giggling, this time.
“I want to know. Leg man, or boob man. It’s straightforward. One or the other,” Lisa insisted. She cocked one leg and preened.
“He’s going to say boobs,” Erika predicted. She hefted hers together. “He’s an American boy. He was practically raised to admire nice, high boobies. It’s in his blood. Besides, aren’t you really asking if he’s into asian girls or white girls? Because that’s what I’m hearing.”
“Are you saying asian girls can’t have big tits?” Lisa objected, mildly irked.
“All I know is that I can’t see my feet anymore unless I do high kicks,” Erika said.
“Maybe he’s a threesome man,” Lisa said, and this finally shocked even Erika, who looked back and stuck out her tongue.
“Don’t mind us, Percy,” Erika said, punching him on the arm. “Lisa has a mouth once her parents aren’t around. Dirty little girl.”
“Says the girl not wearing a bra.”
NORTHBOUND, INTERSTATE 55
The first headache surge felt like an explosion of spikes. The second surge felt like Percy’s brain had been dunked in a big jar of green acid. He hissed, blinking, and nearly slammed into the big rig in front of him.
Both girls unconsciously rose their hands to their hair and started to twirl a single strand.
“Sorry… headache…” Percy muttered. He sneaked a glance at over at the now tit-heavy girl to his right. Was anything going to…
Yeah. It was. Erika’s clothes were starting to change.
“Lisa, what did you think of that movie, Teenage Radio?” she said, and her voice had raised an entire pitch from a fairly deep base. The girl wound brown hair around and around her finger. Meanwhile, her rough tan pants, previously as sexy as a snuggie, were turning lighter and tighter, wrapping her legs in a second skin that outlined every curve.
“Ohmygosh, don’t tell Percy we saw that, he’s going to think we were total airheads. It was SUCH a stupid movie. They actually solve their problems by singing a song. I’m serious. The boy hasn’t even touched a guitar the entire movie, and suddenly he busts out with this tune.”
“It was catchy!” Erika said. Light pink flowers stitched into the side of her pants, and the bottom crept up. She fidgeted just a bit as a generous seat snugged itself into her ass, another set of floral themes appearing across her rear. The zipper itself became pink, plastic, and large. “And I know you like it because you sang it all the way home. WITH the chorus.”
Lisa, in the back seat, was exploding with color. The grey-on-grey tanktop was bursting with sunspots of pink and yellow and light blue, and they warred against each other in a brief war of pastel. Pink won out, but a big yellow sun with a smiling, cartoon face appeared on the front. The cotton was enhanced with synthetic threads, making the fabric tighter, shinier, pulled hot against the curve of her breasts.
“You would’ve liked it, Percy. What with you being a breast man and all. The girls were popping. Seriously. Those were like the finest in boob-based entertainment,” Erika said, winking. She unzipped the sweater jacket with her free hand, revealed a light blue cami that Percy knew hadn’t been there a moment before. Her fat, unrestrained tits bounced playfully, finally revealed, and the scooping neckline was perfectly angled to display her expanded assets. And just to make sure, Erika angled herself to aid with his vantage point.
“That movie was a perfect example of why boobs are so overrated,” Lisa rejoined. She took the finger out of her hair and stuck it in her mouth, letting it trace around her lips. She pointed her head down and smiled gently at her chauffeur. “All the dance numbers. Boobs are not aerodynamic. If you actually move around with big boobs you look like a running cow. Good legs run around, you can dance with them, they are versatile.”
Lisa was breaking out in skirts.
She squeezed her legs tightly together, and the very fabric seemed to fuse, grabbing hold of each side, until Lisa was bound close with rolls of denim. Then the bottom began to fizz into nothingness, disappearing in motes of blue, each inch displaying more and more long and skinny leg. Just when it crept over the knee, towards a rendez-vous with her waist, Lisa crossed her legs, and Percy caught only a brief glance of panties. It was enough to fuel a world of additional fantasies.
“Do you think this is too short for the Debate Meet?” Lisa said, looking down at her new, brief jean skirt. “I wore something similar to our practice run and I think I flashed Mr. Simmons for well over a half-hour.”
“That’s why you won!” Erika said, straining around, and, not incidentally, giving Percy more views of tit. “Oh, you little bit of tramp! Do you even own pants? Hasn’t your ass caught a permanent chill from all those updrafts?”
The headache surge passed. Percy relaxed, thanked the stars that he was running behind a stolid RV.”
“Can we pull over? I need.. some more advil. And some fresh air,” he said.
“Okay,” Lisa said. “But only if it’s at that Denny’s right ahead. And only if you’re paying.”
SILVERLINE ROAD
The girls even walked differently. There was a roll to their hips, while both kept their chests pointing exactly forward, unmoving. The net effect was a subtle gyration in both sets of asses, an up and down, back and forth that required tight muscles and a pert bottom. The girls didn’t even appear to know they were doing it. They both walked in front of Percy, they both shook bigger moneymakers, and they both looked fantastic. The chill air appeared to bother their lightly-clothed selves not at all.
The chatter continued. “Wow, I am starving. I thought I ate breakfast,” Lisa said, ambling towards the front door. The newly leggy girl clutched a white leather satchel to her side, protectively.
“Watch her,” Erika cautioned Percy. “She’s going to eat like six dozen pancakes, and a pig’s worth of bacon, and it will have disappeared like magic. She’s got a magic metabolism. All the girls envy it.”
“That’s not true,” Lisa pouted. They walked through the door, and Erika put up three fingers to the waitress. “I get hippy. You just don’t see it. And whenever YOU have anything it goes straight to your boobs. It’s like you’re a squirrel storing nuts for the winter. I can nearly see your chest grow when you eat pizza.”
“Ewwwww. Pepperoni tits,” Erika said, and giggled at the silliness.
The waitress was normal, Percy noted, and that was both a tremendous relief and a source of alarm. The waitress had faded eyes, wore a loose-fitting uniform, and only smiled due to rigorous company policy. Looking around, the half-empty restaurant wasn’t overflowing with squealing, scantily-clad sluts. So whatever was going on, it wasn’t like he had slipped into an alternate dimension of pastel-wearing easy girls.
On the other hand, it made it just that much more likely that he was the one responsible for Erika and Lisa’s steady degradation from math competitors to scatterbrained juicy girls.
They took seats in a big booth with wraparound faux-leather seats. Percy sat on the far end, and then took a few extra scoots away from the girls.
“We’re ready to order,” Lisa announced. “Erika will have a grapefruit and a glass of grapefruit juice. She’s dieting.”
“Lisa here would like an entire oinking piggie,” Erika announced, sweetly. “Just slaughter it on the table. You can take her silverware. It’s unneeded.”
“I… gotta go to the bathroom,” Percy mumbled.
“Poor sweetie. The headache? Do you need a back massage?” Erika said. She shifted towards the boy. Percy put his head on the formica table, on top of the children’s placemat. Any effort to figure out what was going on seemed to redouble the pounding in his head.
“If you get the back, then what do I massage?” Lisa said. She scooted closer to Percy, until their hips were just about touching. Her thighs were ripe, inviting, and right next to him. Lisa put her arm across his shoulders and inhaled. “I have some ideas,” she said, and fixed big liquid eyes on him.
Erika shoved her, half-playfully, half-not. “Did you manage to tell Percy that you’re dating Austin Chao?” she said, brightly. “I saw that dress you wore to the movies. It’d be quicker to just tattoo your measurements on your forehead, if you want everyone to know.”
Lisa tugged tighter on Percy’s shoulders. He nestled in close, instinctively, and had an inviting view of two playful titties under Lisa’s shirt. “I heard you nearly suffocated Robert Davies in your cleavage when you two went to the movies,” she snapped. “Paramedics said he might’ve suffered brain damage.”
“Girls! I gotta… I gotta go to the bathroom. Please!”
Percy shrugged free, swayed, and rushed into a stall.
DENNY’S BATHROOM
“I’m not crazy. I’m not,” Percy told himself. The headache surged and crashed. At least the drumbeat had been predictable. This was like a tempest entirely within his own head, surging against the sides and raging against the constriction of his own thin skull.
The Percy in the mirror looked the same. He checked his wallet. Same school photo. Same collection of half-used punch tickets. Same library card. Same tattered two dollar bill. All the same.
Another surge. Percy made it to a stall, through wracking pain, and sprawled out on the toilet seat.
“We really shouldn’t..quar…quarrr…” Lisa’s eyebrows knit together. Her head felt light, strange, and there was a light gurgling sensation, like something was circling the toilet. She searched through a vocabulary that seemed, suddenly, brightly colored, ending in exclamation points, and tending to one or two syllables.
“Um. Fight. We shouldn’t fight. Not over Percy. He’s a cool guy,” she finished, and felt a warm glow that came from simple sentence structure and basic concepts. She sneezed, and a dictionary’s worth of vocabulary came out in the spray, leaving behind a comforting, warm numbness.
“Uhhh…” Erika said, the same strange sensation leaving her dull. A fog bank had settled in, a warm mist, one that made life a dreamy, happy maze of sensation. “Right. Percy is pretty cool.”
They sat there for a moment, basking in a fuzz of comfortable dullness. Sensations suddenly felt so much more… sensitive! Everything was heightened — skin felt shinier, the rub of clothes on sensitive girl bits, the way Percy’s scent lingered in the air, triggering automatic reactions…
Their bodies responded appropriately, even excessively. Lisa parted her legs as her clit bulged, her slit started to get moist and wet, sending a buzzing signal to the pleasure centers that now constituted most of her remaining brain. Erika marveled at the way her boobs, usually achy, were like big watermelons of fun feelings. Each nipple called out to be played with. They weren’t nuisances at all; they were warm jugs that needed attention. Preferably male.
Lisa sneezed again, and geometry washed out in the spray. She giggled and wiped her nose, mopping up theorems and cosines. There was a sense of relief, like an unknown pressure had been released.
Erika surreptitiously swiped at the side of a nipple, and a shock of electric heat juiced the nerve, ran up the base of her spine, and rewired parts of her sodden head. Vast swathes of ninth grade were overridden by new lessons, specifically, that having boobs fondled was fantastic and awesome, repeated endlessly.
“’Member when it was, um, tenth grade, and we had skipped class to go shopping, and you pulled your titties out and smooshed them on the car window, and we drove around messing with people?” Lisa sniffled, blew her nose, and folded a napkin full of etymology.
“Oh, gosh, yes!” Erika babbled. This time her questing hand brushed at the outside of her panties, and the bubbles of happiness etched in “you need to get your pussy touched” on what was left of a shrinking head. “And it was good I had such big boobies already because no one could see my face!”
“I wish I had your boobies,” Lisa sighed, examining her own, not unimpressive hooters.
“Noooooo,” Erika exclaimed. “I look like a moo cow. You’re like the, uh, the whatchamacalit — the entire package!”
Lisa brightened. She sneezed, harder then ever, and giggled at the pink glow each blow left behind. Pieces of world history sparkled in the air. “ohymgosh, I must’ve ruined my makeup with all this SNEEZING! Lets hit the bathroom!”
Percy’s head hit the side of the stall, and he didn’t even notice.
Something was going on — he had to force his head around it — things were CHANGING and everything said he was responsible.
Another wave of pain nearly knocked him over with vertigo.
Both girls changed purses, slinking towards the bathroom in an aura of sexual contentment. Lisa’s plastic-and-nylon bag loosened on her shoulder, grew a bright white strap, and shifted through the color spectrum all the way to a blinding white. More cartoon flowers with happy expressions appeared over the sides. It grew heavier, moment by moment, piling up a landfill of cosmetics, along with the detritus from too many nights out. Erika’s faux-leather satchel turned into real cow leather, and a deep red, with just eyeliner and dark red lipstick inside.
They settled in next to each other in a gritty bathroom and opened up scented bottles of application. Erika leaned forward, and stayed forward, her shoes reshaping into high red heels with a stick point. Her pants shrunk again — easing slowly up her thighs — and settled into sculpted khaki shorts that tried to draw attention away from surging tits. Lisa’s denim skirt tested the boundaries, wavering just beneath, then just above, the skim of her ass, settling on a spare inch beneath her underwear.
“What color do ya think?” Lisa asked, sorting through a half-dozen options.
“Hmmm,” Erika outlined her lips in her usual candy-apple red. It was a sort of signa— trade— like, the thing that she did that was the thing that she did. She smacked her lips together. “Do you mean what color Percy likes? ‘Cause it’s going to be dark red, just eff-why-eye.”
Lisa stamped on new pink sneakers. “Erika! Stop being such a ho! Plus you already have a boyfriend and ALL the girls talk about the time you gave Kyle Richardson a blowjob in the back of the team bus and BESIDES you get all spacey and stupid whenever you suck a dick!”
“I still want to suck a dick,” Erika pointed out.
“So do it after the cheerleading competition, ohmygod!”
Lisa paused. Erika was impressed. Her best friend usually floated in a dim, happy haze. She didn’t usually even realize when a guy was hitting on her until he had his hands up her skirt, at which point she usually just went with the sensation.
“Come on,” she urged. “I bet Percy is waiting for us. We got like an hour before coach wants us at the meet.”
Lisa sneezed one last time, and all the sudden irritation floated away. Along with the number of continents she could name, and long division.
“Don’t think about it,” Percy realized. It was the only thing that made the ache stop. He forced his mind off sudden sexy girls, loose outfits, and impossible situations.
The unbearable drumming slowed and stilled. He could think again, move around again.
On impulse, he pulled out his wallet, looked inside.
It was full of one hundred dollar bills.
Just like he had thought it would be.
On shaky legs, but under control, Percy exited the bathroom.
“This is completely, perfectly normal,” Percy reminded himself, as the two painted teenage sex pots named Lisa and Erika sauntered towards him.
They even SMELLED differently. Lisa had a light floral scent, a cute, spring or summer note that felt like a flower bed full of daisies. Erika was musky and wet, like a classic perfume of ambergris and vanilla, and too much of it, like she had gotten into her mom’s vanity. Both had added a pound of heavy makeup, and had glossy red lips or dark kohl-rimmed eyes.
Lisa’s eyes still had a glimmer of intelligence, albeit behind a blue haze of distraction. Erika, on the other hand, seemed to be half a breath away from giggling, and her right hand kept touching at her puffy red lips.
“I’m okay with this,” Percy thought. He imprisoned the thoughts that screamed about wrongness. They would bring the hurting back.
“Girls, can we just go?” he said, plaintively. “I’m… not hungry. I just want to get back on the road.”
“Well… yeah!” Erika said, puzzled. “We just needed to use the bathroom. Everything here is super-fattening stuff for gross people, anyway.”
“Coach doesn’t want me to gain any weight, remember?” Lisa said, tapping her fingers against her short-short skirt. Pink-painted fingers. If there was anything Lisa could add pink too, she had done so. “And coach said that if Erika gets any more boob she’s off the team and on the farm.”
The two ladies floated around him, and this time were happy to brush up, stroke, put their hands on his hip. Erika’s tits touched against his back, not that that was hard for them to do. The wobbling mass of boob flesh could probably cradle a crate.
“Team. Right,” Percy said. He could adjust to this. “What’s the, uh, address of our destination, again?”
Both puckered their foreheads at the syllables and complexity of “destination.” Lisa sneezed, and the look of confusion grew even worse.
“Where are we going?”
“Cheerleading competition, silly!” Erika said. “And thanks sooo much for taking us! You’re such a sweet guy!”
They reached the parking lot. Percy reached into his pocket, pulled out a key he didn’t recognize with a large Mercedes insignia. He clicked the unlock button, and fought to be unsurprised when a large black S-class beeped open.
EAST I-68. RIGHT LANE.
Headache was under control. He just had to… go with the flow. See where this was leading. It wasn’t as if it was leading, so far, anywhere BAD. He had two horny cheerleaders in the back seat, both filling the car with very feminine pheromones, both currently discussing the sluttiness of fellow cheerleaders with graphic and interesting terms.
“Tanya even hurt her jaw after the game last Wednesday,” Lisa said, in a girlish, high-pitched voice that sounded quite wrong discussing blowjobs. “I don’t know why she keeps going for the big fat guys. They’ve got these coke bottle cocks that must be like ten inches wide.”
“She told me she liked the challenge,” Erika said. There were SOME hints of modesty left. Erika had sat on her hands to keep from pawing at her own tits in front of Percy. Lisa had managed to shut her legs. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Percy decided on a test. “Did you get the homework done in Mr. Pasteur’s class?”
They both shrugged.
“I kind of tried a little, but it was way too hard,” said the former future Valedictorian. “the only parts of Romeo and Juliet that are fun are the parts where Romeo is clearly trying to fuck Juliet. The rest is all like “oh, tis a thee, I am knight of words.””
“I did it!” Erika burst out.
“Really?”
“I mean, he helps me with it and stuff. Mr. Pasteur. I stay after class with him and he works through the answers with me.”
Lisa snorted. “And he has to stand right above you, am I guessing right? And you’re wearing one of those shirts that shows off a lot of boob?”
Erika pouted. “They’re all like that!” She shuddered. Tactile sensations were still having their way with the shreds of her intellect. SHOW OFF YOUR TITS overruled looking both ways before crossing the street. “It’s not my fault! And I hate it when you act like I’m a slut when I know you got your ass fucked by—- oh. Sorry.”
Lisa’s face turned bright red.
“Percy doesn’t mind!” Erika said, suddenly sorry. “He doesn’t mind that the quarterback had you dress up in pigtails and fucked you in the locker room! He’s totally okay with it!”
“Yeah… it’s… it’s okay…” Percy said. He concentrated on the road. It had to be okay. Everything was fine.
“Last time I’m telling you anything,” Lisa mumbled. She sniffled, blew her nose, and forgot why she had been so embarrassed. It had felt great, getting reamed like that, by the biggest, most coolest guy in school. She had put on her “Thai whore” act and his cock had perked up like a cup of coffee.
She smiled, and let her knees inch apart.
“Truth or dare,” Erika said.
“Uh… truth,” Percy said.
“If you had a choice between getting a titfuck from a girl with huge fuckin’ titties, and she’s also hot and will let you come on her face, OR a girl who will maybe give you a handjob, and her titties aren’t as big and she’s totally stuck up about sex even though she’s really a slut who let Darryl Boskins fingerbang her in the bathroom, you would pick the girl with the tits, right?”
Percy’s mind struggled to unwind that. It went around in circles.
There had been five minutes of blessed silence. Percy had failed to notice the little things — Lisa’s boobs, for example. Competition with Erika had forced them to grow another cup size, just so they would bounce and draw stares. Instead of just a mammoth set of tits, they were crafty about it — focusing on inviting cleavage, a set of pure-tan upper ridges, and soft, nubbin nipples that would strain at any shirt. Her shoes fought to become even more girlish-ridiculous, turning into clear plastic-and-pink with neon-pink socks.
Erika’s body continued a long striving quest for quantity over subtlety. She was a growing network of erogenous zones, a tactile sensation that bursted with bits that were either hot, wet, or both. There was little left that wouldn’t invite a good long stroking, or happily welcome a cock between folds of whatever.
“Erika, I’ve been REALLY PATIENT about you calling me a slut,” Lisa broke in.
“Because you like it.”
“Okay, maybe,” Lisa conceded. “But, like, I totally don’t get why you’re bugging me about it when you are a gigantic nympho!”
“Am not,” Erika pouted. “Not my fault I got big tits.”
“I’ll bet you’ll take your panties off if Percy asks you nicely.”
“No I won’t. I’m a good girl.” “Percy, ask him.”
Percy sighed. This was bringing the headache back. He had gotten into a good place, as silent as possible, ignoring the flesh in the back seat. “Fine. Erika, take off your underwear.”
“Sure thing!” Erika bubbled, cheerfully. She paused, and her creased khaki shorts obligingly fused together, forming a short skirt already indecent. It took her just one practiced motion to reach in, grab a soaked green thong, and yank it out between her legs. Percy had a perfectly good look up her legs, which were smooth to the very top, and as pink as anything Lisa could put together.
Apparently the wet pair of thin fabric was the only thing keeping the car from smelling like aroused girl. It quickly flooded the interior.
Erika beamed. It had taken all her brain cells, but she had outsmarted Lisa.
“Give me that,” Lisa instructed, grabbing the thong. She rolled her window down, just a touch, and tossed the sodden thing onto the freeway.
“Hah!” Lisa snorted. She frowned “Now my hands are all sticky. God, you’re such a slut.”
“I needed those! I can’t perform without underwear! What the fuck, Lisa!”
“Oh, big deal. So you flash the judges. That’s like ten extra points for us.”
“No! It’s not fair! Here, give me yours!”
“It won’t fit over those cow hips of yours,” Lisa said. “Forget it. Just flash some beaver. Big deal. You’ll like it!”
“Gimme!”
Erika snatched between Lisa’s opened legs, which were far too open to close quickly, and Lisa was no longer the type of person who quickly closed her legs. Her hand closed on Lisa’s own (pink) underwear, and managed to tear a hole right through it.
“Hey! That’s… oh…”
Erika’s scrabbling hand had somehow sunk two fingers deep into Lisa’s snatch.
“Oh shit.”
Lisa tried to protest. But all those words had vanished some time ago, probably lodged in some Kleenex back at the restaurant. She did manage to moan and swivel her hips. She leaned back, and voiced a long, throaty moan of approval, something between a purr and a whine. Encouraged, Erika sank her own hand into her own slit, moving in rhythm between her impromptu handjob and her own fevered masturbation.
Percy developed a sudden and intense nosebleed.
The headache this time was a white light, a sudden sun centered in the center of his head. It was a fractal headache, it was hundreds of headaches, and in each head he could see thousands of options, millions of different paths. It was leaving him breathless, and certainly unable to drive.
He had just enough presence of mind to pilot onto a nearby offramp before passing out.
MIDDLE OF NOWHERE
At first, Erika figured the thumping and rocking was her own orgasm.
Then the car tilted.
She withdrew two sticky fingers on each hand. Lisa moaned, uncaring about car troubles, and stuck her own finger inside to compensate. Then her hair developed a pink, acrylic bow, stuck awkwardly on the top of her hair.
Erika craned her neck. Percy was slumped against the wheel. There was blood on the floor. They had coasted to a stop along the side of the road, next to an offramp, and the car idled quietly.
“Percy?” She exclaimed, panicked. That got Lisa to look up.
“What’s wrong with him?” Lisa asked, alarmed.
Percy groaned, and a wave of dizziness hit both girls.
Erika sighed, a long draining noise, and fell back into the leather scent of the car, closing her eyes against a new torrent of change. Already she floated in a world of white pleasure, a moist world centered on feeling good, but this was changing again, turning electric and concentrated. The happy, horny haze was getting intense, turning into a base need for stimulation, any kind, a world of tactile touch just south of drug addiction. Her pussy started to dribble, more or less permanently, just in case something was about to be inserted.
Her clothes went from scanty and playful to blatantly sexual, advertising her cravings and proud of her endowments. The short khaki skirt bubbled, drew inspiration from the black leather, and turned into a near-facsimile of dark-scented hide. Her shirt decided on a loose-fitting halter, nearly horizontal where it cradled the wealth of her boobs, and showing a healthy dose of granite-hard nipple. Two tiny spaghetti straps held her tits up, and looked thin enough to bite through, if anyone wanted to.
With all the curves, juices, and sexual knowledge there wasn’t much left for a personality, but Titties could hold down a conversation, if it was about fucking, and there weren’t any tricky words, and she wasn’t already horny.
Titties pulled a seven inch vibrator out of her purse, stared at it. Stuffing it inside her snatch felt like a smart idea… it usually was, anyways… but… Percy!
“Percy!” she squealed. He was taking her and Candyass to a big meeting with a guy who was gonna take naked pictures of them and put them on the internet in exchange for lots of money. It was super exciting and Titties had been practicing her “sexy” looks in the mirror all week, and had even bought the super-cool boots she was wearing just for it. She hadn’t fucked anyone in !three days! so that her pussy would be really wet for the shoot! But now Percy wasn’t feeling well at all!
“Candyass, come on!” Titties squealed, tugging at her friend.
Lisa felt the tug through the pink fog that had taken her over during puberty, plumped her up, dumbed her down, and made her into a parody of femininity. She opened pink-glossy lips, brushed back dark hair streaked with pink highlights, and blinked with eyes rimmed with black and pink mascara.
“Huh?” she said, and felt a sneeze coming on, a huge one, a great spray. She barely got her pink-painted hand up in time. Out went everything else, the remnants of geometry, and some physical education, plus the times table and twenty-two letters of the alphabet.
What was left was Candyass. She remembered that because it was what Titties (her best friend!!!) called her ALL the time. She had gotten the nickname because it was her favorite position, bending over with her tits on a desk or table or something, while a cock slid in and out of a perfectly pink slit. Candyass wore a pink dress with a spray of yellow along the sides, made out of some sort of rubber fabric that wiped clean easily. “What’s going on? Are we there yet? With the guy who takes pictures?”
“No! Something is wrong with Percy! Oh my god!” Titties was in a panic, dildo nearly forgotten. “Do you know any medical stuff?”
Candyass examined her wet hand, still dripping with sneeze. She wiped it on the seat. “No,” she said.
“Then what do you know how to do??”
SOME FIELD
Percy’s head was a million, a billion heads, and all of them ached. They magnified each other, examined each other, bounced around a thousand different ways to feel pain. In some his head felt like a bag of rocks. Then it was an ocean of acid, swirling a drain. Then a mix of firecrackers, popping off…
“Get his pants undone,” he heard, in some of the realities.
Cars driving past the side of the road emerged different. In a grey minivan, a sullen goth teenager drowning out her parents closed her eyes, and realized she was sucking on a pacifier. She was wearing pure snow white, her Mom was jerking on Dad’s cock, and she herself seemed to have something vibrate-y buzzing pleasantly in her snatch.
A simmering, angry couple in their mid-20s nearly crashed, as both partners realized that the female had to get pregnant, right away, as soon as possible. Her wobbling tits needed to have something nursing on them, or five or six somethings, maybe.
A passing big rig driver noticed two girls with cartoon bodies and outrageous outfits, and nearly pulled his horn, but was distracted when his beard hair fell out. Then the rest of his body hair. Then he started to grow big tits.
Percy reached farther out. Everywhere, across the world, panties started to get tighter, cocks started to swell, men and women looked at each other with artificial, but frantic lust.
“Geez, that’s a big dick. Candyass, stick your rear on it.”
A foursome of white sorority girls passed in a Kia, and cycled through races and cultures, emerging with a sizzling United Nations of African, Asian, and Latina, with passports and identities to match.
Percy felt something pleasant happen somewhere in the noise of his head. He tried to focus on it, felt a delicious squeezing somewhere at waist level, a cooing noise that he wanted to pay attention to. Something very nice was happening.
He couldn’t breathe. Percy opened his eyes. A smiling girl, blonde, had pushed enough boob to satisfy an entire heaven into his face. He opened his mouth and was surprised by a nipple. Sucking on it produced a surge of milk. Why not, after all?
There was a dedicated and skilled asian girl with a hypnotic ass rocking up and down on his dick.
Percy focused, growling. He COULD control it. HE controlled where his mind went. And right now, it was focused on fucking this delicious girl so hard her screams would go ultrasonic. Titties, delighted, rubbed her boobs on his back as he got up on both knees, positioned the former Lisa doggie-style, and set to at a fast pace.
Beyond them, the highway had turned into a parking lot. Every single car was a makeshift orgy, some spilling onto the road, filled with every possible perversion and every outrageous position. An older man in a rusting truck stumbled out, looking thoughtfully at a twelve-inch cock, and found that the car behind him contained identical naked redheads. A Greyhound bus swayed back and forth as the occupants rocked in a single continuous daisy chain of orifices.
Percy felt an orgasm coming. It hummed through him, containing every drop of pressure from behind his head, every ounce of weight. He pulled out of Candyass, sure the spray would hurt her, and hissed, spraying white, as he collapsed onto the ground.
ROUTE FIFTEEN, EASTBOUND
“Percy! Jesus! You’re going to kill us! Eyes open!”
Percy opened his eyes in time to avoid slamming into an oncoming BMW. He had drifted left, across two yellow lines, and very nearly killed all three of them.
Erika had been yelling at him.
The same dumpy Erika as before. There were still curves, but they were placed haphazardly and without regard for the male libido. And her pants were blessedly boring. Lisa, silent in the backseat, looked slender, if freaked out by a near-death encounter.
“Sorry… sorry…” Percy said. “I just… spaced out. Bad headache. Don’t worry. We’ll be at cheerleading on time.”
Erika rolled her eyes. “Yeah, cheerleading. Because I love leading cheers. What’s what I’m into.”
Lisa didn’t respond.
“Right,” Percy said. “Onward to the MATH competition. Hurrah.” He felt cautiously inside his own head. The headache was gone. But the memories were still there. Memories of millions of hims, of reshaping reality, what that felt like, how it worked.
Which meant… ah.
“I’m really looking forward to this trip, girls,” he told them, pushing with new confidence on the accelerator. “Remember, whoever does best in multivariate calculus gets her underwear back.”
Behind and next to him, Lisa and Erika nodded, absent-mindedly, and clenched their thighs together to keep from dripping.