Disclaimer: All character engaging in sexual activity in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.
Writer's Note: This is a story about a young man going through a series of sexual changes, and how those changes impact his relationships in general. It will have romantic elements in addition to the more "quick and dirty" erotic material (though that'll be here too, of course). There are likely to be a variety of different fetishes explored in this work, including growth (PE, BE, height), unintentional mind control (some elements may even be considered non-con, but nothing I would classify as rape), and possibly even pregnancy and lactation in the future.
I'd also like to note that the story may meander a bit, it is intended to be largely light hearted and episodic. It will have a general arc though, and many of the changes will build slowly. This is only my second work of erotic fiction, but my previous attempt bit off more than I could chew in terms of scope, so I'm hoping this one will be a bit more manageable.
That said, hope you enjoy, and I appreciate your comments.
*****************
Ohhhhh, crap. Please, don't start now...
Good God, the pain! It felt like I was being jabbed in the balls with hot pokers, and this time was the worst yet.
Sitting at my desk near the back of the class doing a lousy job of paying attention as my AP Government teacher rambled on about checks and balances, I looked down to see if there actually
was
a tiny gremlin repeatedly stabbing my scrotum with hypodermic needles.
There wasn't, of course, but right on cue, the sharp pain was morphing into throbbing waves of burning agony.
The first time this happened was just a few hours after the accident. Last week, I'd hit a bad pothole en route to my friend Brandon's house. The damned bike seat pounded me right in the taint, sending me limping home in severe pain and apparently kicking off a series of bizarre...episodes.
Later that day, I'd been playing Fortnite online with some buddies, attempting to soothe my battered crotch with a cold pack when the pain suddenly went off the scale. I weathered the torment with a white-knuckled grip on my chair's armrests, my only conscious thought the desperate hope that whatever the hell was happening to me would just
stop
. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, it did.
Once the pain had eased, a strange thing happened: my groin started feeling really good. Like,
really
good. Soothing waves of bliss rolled over me from the bottom of my belly and down through my manly parts, dissipating in my thighs. It was intensely pleasurable, but not like an orgasm; the sensation wasn't nearly as sharp and bright. More like a soothing, pleasant dip into a warm, aromatic bath, but better. The tingling ecstasy in my scrotum radiated through my skin, and I could feel the fine hairs stand up. Involuntarily, my cock started to firm up, and within moments I was sporting a hard-on like none I'd ever had. I figured I should be alarmed, but it all just felt so damned
good
that I just didn't want it to end.
But that's when it got even stranger: as the waves of pleasure coursed through my cock, I felt myself...leaking. Whatever it was came out in a trickle, not a flood; as though some kind of spigot in my plumbing had cracked open just enough to allow it to flow. The feeling accompanying it was euphoric, so I just sat and let it roll over me. I had my eyes closed and my head lolled back, so I only realized how much had come out when I felt a wet patch on my shorts start to get cold. Shit. I didn't want whatever it was all over my new chair, so I ran to the bathroom.
Luckily it was a Sunday afternoon and the rest of the family was out, so there was no one around to witness my awkward shuffle down the hall. I struggled with the zipper given the tent I was pitching in my shorts, but eventually got it. My healthy-side-of-average cock sprung up and nearly hit my stomach, and I saw the fluid oozing from the tip. It was clear, like pre-cum. I dabbed a bit of it on my finger and sniffed it. No smell at all. It was sticky and slick...maybe it
was
pre. I didn't feel particularly aroused though... I thought about tasting it, but couldn't convince myself to do it. What did I know about how pre tastes, anyway? Either way, it wasn't stopping and had coated the length of my near-vertical cock, rapidly dribbling down onto my balls. Wrestling the stubborn appendage downward, I pointed it over the toilet so it could drain without making even more of a mess.
The bliss I was feeling had started to dissipate, but the clear fluid showed no sign of letting up. Several minutes later, I started to get concerned. Five minutes after that, I started to panic. What if it just kept going? Visions of turning into some kind of dehydrated husk from fluid loss haunted me. Maybe I ought to grab some tissues and a glass of water. How embarrassing would it be if I had to tell someone about this... Pleeease, just go away before I have to consider this a medical problem!
A full fifteen minutes had gone by, and still, it drooled out unabated. Eventually, I got tired of standing over the toilet and decided to sit down in my room with a large bowl to avoid making a mess of my bed. Thankfully, it wasn't much longer until it stopped, but not before filling a surprising portion of the bowl. After a little while, my dick finally started to calm down, and I felt like I was back to normal.
This had happened twice more -- once a few days later in the morning before school, making me late, and yesterday right before bedtime -- and both times played out pretty much like the first. I was conflicted on whether I hated or enjoyed the experience; the pain was intense, but so was the pleasure that followed. Thankfully, I had never had to deal with it at school, until right now...
The upshot of all this is that I was now in for at least twenty minutes of activity that I could
not
experience in the middle of class. Not in front of all the chuckleheads who would never let me live it down, nor the dozen-or-so-odd girls -- a third of whom were the some of the hottest specimens the Fairfield High field hockey team had to offer, and
especially
not in front of Gabriella Malcolm.
Ella and I had been friends since third grade. Best friends, actually. She lived two blocks down the street, and our parents were so close that our families even took vacations together. My folks had always believed that the puppy love the two of us shared at age nine would bloom into something more lasting as we matured.
Unfortunately, Ella and I weren't as tight today as we used to be. Maybe it was because I had grown from a thoroughly average boy to a thoroughly average man while she metamorphosed from a twiggy, athletic girl with scraped-up knees and pigtails into a six-foot-four statuesque goddess that was sweetness and light personified. It wasn't that I was ugly, or particularly short at five-ten. I'd had my share of interest from the fair sex; I was well-proportioned and had the lean build of a runner. But Ella could stop traffic. She was so far out of my league that I didn't think we were playing the same sport. Physical attributes notwithstanding, it was her personality that I loved the most about her. She was still the same girl that would offer to run all the way back to the house to get the worms when we realized we forgot to bring them to the creek to fish. Always putting others first, she gave of herself endlessly.
The worst part is that I couldn't even blame Ella for the distance that had grown between us. As is usually the case with this sort of thing, I became super insecure and awkward around her once she started...developing. It didn't help that it continued all the way to the present, and now that she had the face of an angel, what must have been at least a triple-D bust, a waist that completely belied the size of her frame, and the juiciest heart-shaped ass on 38-inch hips I've ever seen, I could barely string together an entire sentence around her. She ticks every box for me, just like I bet she did for the vast majority of other heterosexual men on the planet. Some guys might have been intimidated by her stature, but I find it unconscionably sexy.
What I couldn't figure out is why she'd barely dated at all despite, to all accounts, the best efforts of every beefcake at Fairfield
and
