In the very back of my consciousness, I become aware of someone knocking on my door.

No, not knocking--pounding.

Go away! I am sucking my cock, I think to myself, but I don't speak. That would require me to withdraw the spasming tool from my throat, and I'm just not willing to.

"Ivan, you in there?" It's a familiar voice, but I just can't quite place it. My brain is too foggy from the heat of lust and cum. "It's Miguel. Dude, we're supposed to go on rounds tonight."

Rounds? Reality slowly eeks back into my consciousness. My purpose is sex. But it hasn't always been. Once, I was a student. And an RA. I'm supposed to go patrol the halls with the RA from upstairs and make sure the other students don't fuck shit up.

"You okay, man? I was hoping we could talk about class yesterday. You really put Professor Hensley in her place."

I pull my swollen dong from my lips. I'm torn between two worlds. My only real calling is sexual pleasure, but there's a nagging feeling in a corner of my mind that I can't just hole up in my room and self-suck forever.

I take in my surroundings, noticing for the first time that the laminate floor around me is covered in a pool of semen. I stink. It's a heavenly odor of man and sex, but it's so powerful I swoon. In the mirror, I take in my reflection. My belly is swollen with my own loads. The layers of dried, drying, and still fresh spooge that escaped my mouth coating my hairy chest and torso crackle and split as I move.

I'm huge. Huger than huge. As I stand, the weight feels unfamiliar. My legs seem longer. My arms, too. My whole body. Where less than a day ago I was merely hunky, today I am a beast. An animal. I look like a cartoon muscle man, or one of those morphs you see on weird transformation porn sites.

I look down at my dong. It is red and swollen and hot to the touch--and massive. Twice the size it was when I measured it. At least.

As I watch, a big white glob of thick oozy precum bubbles up out of my slit, collecting in my heavy folds of my meaty foreskin.

Foreskin? I'm cut, I tell myself.

Not anymore. Worship it.

My brain is warped. It's like I'm hearing voices. The thing inside me draws my attention to the pool of fluid collecting on my cockhead. Drink up_, _it says. Standing at attention, my monster tool is so near to my face. I reach out my tongue and lean my neck forward to lap it up.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Dude! Are you okay in there? I'm going to use my key."

I could answer the door, but my tongue is inches away from collecting the hot, smelly jism pooling in the folds of my cockhead.