Achy Breaky William

Realizing the ridiculousness of his situation, William closed the drawer that housed all the the William-sized panties and turned to leave the room. That's when it started. An ache. Not in a muscle, but in his mind. Each step he took toward the door, the ache increased. By the time his hand touched the door handle, William could barely think, the ache was so intense. He stopped. He wanted to think it through, he was a man of logic, but right now, he was only a man of pain.

Retracing his steps, William quickly found the ache diminished. As he approached the dresser where he had began, he began to feel more like himself, able to process what was happening. Whatever process had placed him in this new reality, it was trying to conform him into its rules, forcing him to be who he would be had he been from here. If he could only make it back to his lab...

At the thought, the ache returned, causing his knees to momentarily buckle. Steadying himself on the dresser, he let his left hand slip down to the drawer that held the panties and slid it open. Again, the ache diminished, but not all the way this time. Reaching into the drawer, William took out a pair of black lace panties, something he would never had worn in his normal life, but now was seriously considering.

Straightening from the dresser, William unfastened his belt, then the button on his pants. The ache vanished. Okay, he thought, as long as I play along, I'll be okay. Allowing his pants to slip to the floor, he then slid his boxer shorts off.

"Here we go," he mumbled to himself, stepping into the lacy undergarment.

Again his knees buckled, but this time not from pain. The pleasure was intense. For only a moment, William was rewarded with an amazing shot of pleasure, something he had never experienced before, something that he was sure could only come through the use of illicit ****. It passed as quickly as it had begun, leaving him panting, wanting more, but struggling to maintain his scientific distance from the experience.

Only it wasn't completely gone. Like butterflies in his stomach, a sliver of the pleasure remained. Just enough to remind him of the bliss that had been, enough to coax him into dressing further.

Which he did.