"I’m not ready"

“I’m not ready.” You say, steadying yourself as best you can.

“We know how to make you ready.” Vernius purrs. You feel your cock stir. Then you feel as if you aren't wearing shorts. You look down, and you aren’t wearing shorts.

“How did you―” You begin, but a finger silences your lips.

“Ask us no more questions.” She says. You watch intently as her hand reaches down to your crotch. You are suddenly aware of how painfully hard you are, your cock twitching hard, dripping precum, as her hand closes around it. She pumps it once. It’s a heavenly handjob, her soft hand squeezing your cock.

“Beg for it, thrall.” She growls inside you. You gasp. She pumps your cock again, heat radiating from her hand through you. You feel words enter your mouth that are not your own.

“I beg you my goddess, my heavenly mistress, please make me cum!” You plead in a voice that is not your own, your body twitching in intense pleasure. Vernius pumps your cock a third time and your orgasm is already upon you. You screw your eyes shut at the pleasure that her mere hand is delivering. Your hips buck as you feel a wad of cum shoot up from your aching balls to your cock and out.

You open your eyes and you are now alone in your darkened dorm room, feeling ropes of cum land on your naked chest and stomach with a satisfying splat. There’s a warm afterglow of the feeling of Vernius’s hand still around your cock before it deflates, dripping juices onto your bedspread.

“What the fuck.” You sigh aloud, still coming down from your orgasm, wiping your cum against your skin. You look over at your alarm clock. It reads 4:00 AM. You roll off your bed and fall on the floor. Your body is sore all over and you just made the poor choice to trust it to catch you. You groan loudly to yourself. You crawl over to the bathroom and do your business sitting down like a sitzpinkler. You wash your hands down on your knees rather than putting any trust in your legs again. You crawl to your wardrobe and swap out for some sleep wear. Then you crawl back into your bed. You sigh a relieved sigh.

Then as your nodding off, there’s this hot itching sensation on the bottom of your foot. That’s strange you think. It doesn’t feel like Athlete's Foot or anything you have felt before. Maybe this is the discomfort that Vernius was talking about?

“That’s not too bad.” You say to yourself, scratching the bottom of your foot with your toes.

Now isn’t that strange, you think, now your toes feel hot too. You throw off your blanket. In the moonlight nothing looks different about them. You pull your blanket back over you, lay down, and try not to think too hard about it. But you feel the heat growing up your feet through your calves to your legs. You try to ignore it harder. The sensation of heat climbs up to your thighs, then shoots up your back. You are sweating now. You feel your chest start heaving as the heat spreads over your torso, then down your arms and up your neck. Your shirt is starting to soak with sweat. You feel your face go hot, really really hot, like you just shoved your face right in front of a roasting fire. The heat grows more intense with every passing moment, feeling like you are being roasted. You throw your blanket off and it does nothing.

You feel yourself panting at the heat, this unbearable heat. You feel your clothes become soaked with sweat, grossly sticking to your skin. You try to move, to wriggle away from this God damn heat but it does not help. It’s inside you. The heat feels like it's burning your insides, cooking you from the inside out. You moan out at it, wiping your brow of the sweat that has accumulated there. You feel your insides boiling. You feel your lips crack. You feel your skin covered in bullets of sweat, accumulating in rivers running down your skin all over. You feel your mouth go dry even as it croaks out loudly in pain. Uselessly moaning as you burn alive in your own bed. The pain is too intense. For the second time tonight, your mind goes numb from the pain. You wonder if this is what Hell feels like. No, this is certainly what Hell feels like, roasting alive as if you swallowed a bunch of red hot coals.

You are burning.

Burning.

Burning.

Burning. That is all you can think of. Burning alive right in your dorm room bed. Wanting it to end. Begging for it to end.

Then it stops, like a switch had been flipped. You suck in a big breath of beautifully cold air, your clothes very much soaked through with sweat. Your bedspread soaked through with sweat. You are laying in a puddle of your own sweat in your bed. You roll over, and almost immediately pass out.

The next thing you know, you see Mark’s worried face hanging over you. Not to put down Mark but he is no buxom goddess and you scowl at him. He says something to you.

“What?” You ask exasperatedly.

“I said are you ok, you look pretty sick dude.” Mark says.

“Yeah, I’m trying to sleep it off.” You grumble. You recoil as something ice cold touches your forehead.

"Jesus John!" Shouts Mark, shaking away his hand. "Dude, you're burning up. you sure you don't want a ride to the hospital?"

"Mark. I'm fine. Let me sleep this off." You snap, rolling over and pulling your blanket back over you.

“Jeez, ok dude, Benny and I are leaving this afternoon, so please take care of yourself.” He sighs. "You got somebody to come check on you?"

"Yeah," you grunt, thinking of Alice threatening to visit you.

"Ok. Take care of yourself dude." Mark sighs, resigned. "See you later."

"Later," your reply shoving your head under the covers again. Sleep greets you quickly.