A Clueless Village Girl InThe USA
- 4 years ago
- 10
- 0
Anytown, USA free porn video
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story may be archived, distributed, altered,
edited, added to, subtracted from, or ignored at will. 'Anytown, USA'
is freely available as a setting to any author who might care to use
it. There is absolutely, positively, and utterly no restrictions of any
kind on this story. Enjoy!
ANYTOWN, USA
By A. N. O'Nimus
Crumpling the roadmap with a snarl, Carl Vinkens tossed it in with the
clutter of empty fast-food containers and coffee cups lining the
floorboards of the rented Chevy. Slender, tanned hands tightening on
the wheel, the location scout glanced briefly down at the gas gauge,
which trembled just above the dreaded Big Red E.
"Damn..." Carl muttered, annoyed beyond reason with the very geography
surrounding him. Dark, intense eyes narrowed, he glared through the
windshield at the sharp rise and fall of the mountainous landscape.
"Fuckin' Kentucky!"
Cursing the hills and vales through which he was now aimlessly
wandering didn't do a damned thing to help him get 'unlost' ? but it
made him feel so good that he spent the next three straight minutes
composing a extemporaneous verbal treatise on the Commonwealth of
Kentucky, ending with: "...god-fucking-damned mountains!"
The brief expose on the state's shortcomings had not only included
every swear-word Carl knew, but had actually been the cause of
inventing a few new ones ? so, drained of verbiage, of not frustrated
anger, the meticulously dressed dark-haired young man turned his
attention once more to the barren back-road that unrolled beneath the
Chevy's tires.
Drumming his fingers, the fastidious Hollywood location scout peered
out at the road ahead, hoping against hope for some sign of
civilization in these damned backwoods mountains. Having found a
perfect location for the movie he'd been sent out for, he was eager to
get back to LA.
Of course, the fact that he'd lied about both his name and his supposed
inability to father children to that cute brunette he'd laid last night
might have had a bearing on his eagerness to leave the great state of
Kentucky. Oh, sure, it was a long shot that he'd got the girl pregnant
at all, and even if he had, there was no way she'd know until he was
already long gone - but, still, this was the state that had given birth
to the joke about a 'formal' Kentucky wedding is when the father of the
bride paints his shotgun white, and there was more then a hint of truth
in the gun-totting kinsfolk punch line. Having had his bit of fun, Carl
had decided that 'discretion is the better part of valor', and was
making a getaway...
...into the middle of nowhere...
...in a car running out of gas.
Correction: In a car that had run out of gas...
With new motivation, Carl resumed swearing as the engine of the rented
Chevy began to splutter and cough. Alternately curing the car and
begging it to just make it to the top of the long, shallow slope he was
heading up, Carl unconsciously began pushing on the steering wheel, as
if - while sitting in it - he could physical move the car the few scant
yards separating him from the crest of the hill.
It was, of course, a vain effort. With a final splutter, the car died,
quickly rolling to a dead stop on the incline.
Muttering angrily to himself, Carl threw the car into 'park', then
climbed out. One look at the full-sized sedan he'd insisted on getting
told him that there was no way he'd be able to push it the rest of the
way up the slope. Shaking his head, he grabbed the cell-phone that
hadn't been able to get a signal for the past two hours from the front
seat, his monotonous swearing momentarily rising in pitch as he
verified the fact that it still showed 'NO SRVC' in the LCD display.
Jamming the useless phone in the pocket of his tailored suit jacket,
Carl simply left the car standing there, driver's door open, and began
walking up the slope, his Italian leather loafers slapping on the
cracked and scarred blacktop. With sharp, angry strides, Carl stormed
up to the crest of the slope...
...and then stared, dumfounded, as the sight of a small little town
nestled in the valley at the foot of the slope.
"Figures..." Carl said, shaking one fist at the sky. Sighing, he peeled
off his jacket and tossed it over one narrow shoulder, and then began
the easy downhill hike to the picturesque little town below.
Reaching the bottom of the slope, Carl just *HAD* to stop and stare at
the welcome sign, his jaw gaping slightly.
"You gotta be shitting me..." He murmured, unconsciously shaking his
head in disbelief.
It was right there in black and white:
Welcome to
ANYTOWN, USA
'A fair place'
Shaking his head more authoritatively, Carl continued his trek along
the secondary highway, unimaginatively named Main Street where it ran
through the small one-horse town.
Looking around as he headed towards the gas station on the outskirts,
Carl found his location-scouting instincts kick in as he surveyed what
could well be the prototypical 'Small American Town'. As a breeze
picked up, ruffling his carefully styled thatch of dark hair, he
actually managed to ignore it, though it usually aggravated his
fastidious nature - he was too busy taking in the town.
Main Street ran straight as an arrow through the dead center of town.
In the 'business district' that took up half of main street, the road
widened to allow angled parking spots to be placed in front of the
dozen or so shops and restaurants that lined the street - mostly old
red-brick buildings of one and two stories, with slightly more
elaborate facades.
There were relatively few vehicles parked along the street, mostly
well-used pick-ups and full- and mid-sized sedans, with a levying of
jeeps and station wagons thrown in. As far as he could tell, not one of
the vehicles was newer then ten years old, though some of them were in
near-mint condition, aside from the layering of dust.
Another brief gust of wind riffled by him, and Carl pulled his suit
jacket back on - and, as he did so, was surprised to notice that a
thick, smoky fog had rolled in without him noticing. Though it was
heavy enough to block all view of the surrounding mountains and
terrain, some strange quirk of nature seemed to be holding the fog back
from the town proper, almost making it seem as if the still-sun-
drenched little town was floating in a grey void, unattached to the
rest of the world.
Shaking his head at his over-active imagination, Carl resumed his
steady trudge to the greasy, independent gas station/convenience store
that was one of the outermost buildings in town.
Leaning against one of the old-fashioned roll-tape pumps was a
character as hokey as the town itself. Idly wiping greasy hands on an
even greasier old red rag, the stocky, grizzled man in the stained and
faded beige coveralls watched Carl's approach, faded blue eyes shadowed
under the brim of the battered ball-cap covering his unkempt man of
grey-white hair. Emotionless and imperturbable, the gas station
attendant waited with infinite patience until Carl was within easy
range of a casual voice.
"Don't get many strangers walkin' into town." The man said, calmly. "I
figger you musta had a breakdown or somethin', huh?"
"Yeah, something like that, Earl." Carl said, adding sarcastic emphasis
on the name gleaned from the oil-smeared embroidery on the coverall. "I
ran out of gas. I need to be filled up."
"Don't worry, Carl - you will be..." Earl said, placidly.
"How did you know..." Carl started to ask, confused - only to break off
when his gut gave an odd little rumble, suddenly accompanied by a low,
insistent pressure, like a bad case of gas.
"Oh, I think you'll find just 'bout everybody knows ev'body else in
Anytown." Earl said, easily. "What, with us bein' such a close-knit
town, and all."
"I... don't feel right..." Carl said, stomach churning. Slipping a hand
into his unbuttoned jacket, he put it comfortingly against his
stomach...
...and then gasped and yanked open his jacket, staring down to let his
eyes verify what his hand had told him.
As unbelievable as it was, the crisp white shirt was slightly bulged
over a mildly distended stomach...
...except that it wasn't a white shirt, but a slightly off-white shirt,
marked with barely-visible patterns of some sort...
...and it wasn't crisp, but fairly soft...
...and it wasn't slightly bulged, but pulled tight - over an abdomen
that, before his very eyes, was slowly pushing it's way outwards under
the shirt that continued to change, the basic once-white of it
continuing to darken to an earth-tone beige, while the pattern slowly
gained pastel colors.
"What... What's happening...?" Carl gasped, barely registering the
warbling tone of his voice as he staggered backwards - atop heels that
were higher then the should have been.
"Oh..." Carl said, casually, apparently apropos nothing. "Like the sign
said, Anytown's a fair place."
"What... I don't..." Carl stammered in a rising pitch, still staring
down at his swelling belly, the now-noticeable flower-patterned fabric
pulled taut over the belly framed by the edges of his dark linen
jacket...
...which was dark blue, rather then the black it had been a second ago,
and of a rougher weave...
"What the fuck is happening to me!" Carl screamed, nearly hysterical -
and the higher-pitched voice it came out in finally registered on him.
His hands flew upwards in a 'warding-off' motion, and he found himself
staring at hands even slimmer then they should have been - with nails
painted a pastel shade of pink.
It was the 'clue' that forced his mind into the right channel, and Carl
looked down again - not at the swelling, heavy belly shoving it's way
steadily outwards, but at the twin mounds riding higher above that
belly, also straining outwards against the shirt-that-wasn't-a-shirt.
"Oh, God - I'm turning into a woman...!" Carl screamed.
"Yup." Earl agreed, calmly. "Sure are."
"No!" Carl screamed, shaking his head in denial - but it only further
proved the truth, as the hair rapidly growing longer brushed across a
slimming neck.
As cool air blew over the exposed and now hairless calves displayed by
the rising, flaring cuffs of the pants fusing to the not-shirt, the
changing man staggered back atop the new footwear enclosing his
shrinking feet, his slimming hands flying to the swelling mound of his
now obviously pregnant belly.
"This is impossible!" The being that was neither man nor woman screamed
in open disbelief of his/her senses, mind spinning crazily. "This...
This can't be happening...!"
"Oh, or'narily, I'd agree with you." Earl said, tucking the rag into
his back pocket and tilting his cap back with his thumb. "But this here
is Anytown - and any THING can happen - s'long as it's fair, that is."
"No..." Carl said, in a voice that was nearly a sob - not a denial, but
a plea. "Oh, God - no..."
The transforming person was backed up against a pump, slowly altering
facial features trapped in a single constant - a look of horror.
Beneath a jacket now obviously denim, the new, single garment that was
well on the way to becoming a dress hung over a swollen belly that
already looked a good nine months gone - and yet hadn't stopped yet.
"A real shame, a nice girl like you not havin' a husband to help you
raise them quadruplets..." Earl said, compassionately. "Still, I think
you'll find us a friendly people, happy to help a single mom like
yourself... Carla."
The new woman was shaking her head in horrified negation, now leaning
heavily against the pump as her tiny hands tried to support her
massively pregnant belly. As the long, dark hair finished curling
around her cute-but-careworn new face, the new woman's changes
completed themselves, leaving only the faintest resemblance to the man
she'd once been.
Dressed in a faded denim jacket over a flower-print beige maternity
dress and a pair of cowboy boots, the wide-hipped new woman's body
looked grossly distended by the four children she was in her third
trimester carrying, their weight pressing hard against her bladder.
Even as she struggled to understand how this could possibly be
happening to her, new thoughts and memories were flooding into her
mind.
The memories and thought-patterns of 'Carla Jenkins' rushed to the
fore-front of the new woman's mind - but they supplemented, rather then
supplanted, the memories of her male life. While her 'real' life
memories were as sharp and clear as always, those of Carla were flatter
and undefined, as if she'd read them, rather then experienced them -
yet they were definitely there, giving her everything she needed to
know about 'her past' - and, hence, her future.
A future that, like everybody else's, was defined a single moment at a
time - and even as her mind swirled and tried to come to terms with the
impossible, she was forced to the here-and-now by the twin pressures on
her bladder and in her heavy, milk-swollen breasts.
"T'aint so bad..." Earl assured the hysterical looking woman, gently
taking her arm. She stiffened slightly - then, submissively, let the
older man begin gently leading her towards the ladies' room. "Anytown's
made up of the once-bad, like yourself, and the very good, who had no
other refuge. You try hard, I'm sure you can find a nice man for
yourself, make a nice little life, raise a family..."
"I don't want to raise a family..." Carla whimpered, numbly.
"A little late for that..." Earl said, running a hand over her gravid
belly. "Over the years, y'all went and got four diff'nt girls pregnant,
and left 'em all alone - so nows you gotta have four kids by your
lonesome, too. Anytown's fair, though - you coulda had to have 'em one
at a time, and you wouldn't been allowed to have any husband until you
had 'em all, and that woulda been years. This way, it's all over and
done with in one fell swoop, and then it'll be up to you to make a new
life for yourself and your young'uns. I just suggest that you don't do
any harm to no-one else. Ain't nobody knows how and when Anytown came
to be, but everybody in it knows what happens if you misbehave,
yessiree-bob. Here you go now, miss - watch your step."
Gently easing the still-stunned new woman into the bathroom, Earl
gently turned on the light and closed the door behind her, allowing her
some privacy for her first time urinating as a woman.
"Yup..." Earl said, tugging his cap back down and wandering off towards
the pumps. "Anytown sure is a fair place..."
Whistling to himself, the long-time resident of the mystical, mobile
little town began polishing one of his pumps - while, behind him, the
tiled walls of the bathroom echoed the mother-to-be's own sobs back at
her.
THE END
Marisol
- 15.12.2022
- 10
- 0
Komal Virgin Before Going To USA
- 2 years ago
- 11
- 0
Classmate While Studying MS In USA
- 2 years ago
- 10
- 0
