Metamorphodick: The Sexually Explicit Adventures of a Man and His Shape-Changing Penis
Chapter One: The Beginning
The last thing I remember is a blindingly bright white light flooding my bedroom. Then darkness.
Now there is a burning in my lungs, as if I've held my breath for too long. I open my eyes; it's like opening them underwater, in a swimming pool, a slightly acidic feel on my eyeballs. My body starts to thrash, desperate for air. Through a greenish haze I see vague shapes moving to and fro. Then a sharp but not unpleasant cold suffuses through my lungs, and I feel like I'm breathing again. Only later do I realise that my chest still wasn't moving. A brief pinprick at the back of my neck, and then darkness again.
Sometime later - a few minutes, or a few years, it's impossible to tell in the darkness - a part of me resurfaces. All is still black, and whatever sliver of consciousness this is has a strange quality to it. It's like I'm a guest in my own home. No, it's more like I've got the builders or the decorators in and I feel out of place as they work. There is a sense that someone or something is refurbishing my body and at least some part of my mind. I float in this odd feeling for a time, before the darkness takes me down again.
The next time awareness comes on, there is a sharp, unbearable, all-engulfing pain in what I think is my groin. I want to scream in agony, but I have no mouth, or I do but it's filled with the cold. Another prick in my neck, and the merciful darkness consumes me.
***
This time is different. I'm no longer a guest in my own head - I'm me, in control of my own body and my own mind. I'm lying down, face up, on something cold and metallic. I must be naked, as I can feel the chilly metal on my back, my buttocks, the backs of my legs, and my heels.
I open my eyes. I am in a small, brightly lit room, comprised of uniformly white walls and ceiling. I can't see a door or any windows. What I can see, suspended above me, is a huge and complicated machine, various bizarre-looking tools and appliances attached to multi-jointed metal arms. The whole thing looks like a nightmarish metal spider.
I try to move, to get out from under this monstrosity, but I seem to be pinned down by some unseen force, perhaps generated by the machine.
Suddenly, one of the machine's appliances, a screen maybe thirty inches wide, comes to life. The arm to which it is attached has been positioned so that the screen is directly above my head, pointing down at me. Images start to flash on the screen. Pornographic images. Couples, individuals, men, women, all fucking and sucking and stroking and coming. Tits, cocks, pussies, toys, flashing before my eyes.
Despite myself - despite being confined in an unknown location, strapped underneath some menacing machine - my cock starts to harden. I am terrified, with no idea where I am or what is happening; yet, with a montage of porn playing out above me, what was limp and resting lightly against my thigh is now lengthening. My engorged member stands to attention, then, fully erect, falls down onto my stomach.
And then keeps growing. Something has *clicked* inside my head, wherever it was I went when I felt like a guest in my own mind. And my cock keeps getting bigger. It wasn't small to begin with: I'm a respectable, average six inches. But now I'm eight. Ten. A foot long. My cock grows and grows, girth matching length, making its way up my chest, the engorged head, now the size of a pomegranate, pushing past my nipples. It is almost to my chin by the time my penis finally stops growing.
Then one the machine's arms descends, this one with something like a mechanical hand on the end. The hand grips my giant, distended cock by the base and pulls upright so that the massive head is pointing to the ceiling.
There is another *click* deep in my brain. My penis ripples, like something is squirming under the skin. With a sensation not unlike pulling back my foreskin, my penis splits down the middle. Not into two halves, but into two separate penises. I now have two cocks. These two ripple and split, and now there are four. Another split, and eight cocks are thrusting upward from my crotch. I can feel each of them; they are all mine, all functioning.
A whole set of arms descend from the machine, each equipped with a long tube. The arms position themselves, and each lowers its tube over one of my penises.
It's like entering a fleshlight, a tight, velvety tunnel embracing my cock. Cocks. The sensation of eight penises being engulfed is incredible. I let out a low moan.
The tubes begin moving up and down, pumping my dicks. I completely forget my situation; this feels amazing. The tubes slowly increase their pace. I want to thrust my hips upwards to meet their downstrokes, but whatever force pins me down won't let me.
Soon the tubes are pistoning up and down my cocks. I can feel the pressure building in my testicles, at the base of each penis. The feeling of eight cocks about to blow their load is almost too much.
What definitely is too much is eight orgasms. Each of my cocks explodes, pumping cum into the tubes. The pleasure is excruciating; I scream, literally scream. Then there is another *click*, and I keep coming. Normally, if I keep pumping as I come, an orgasm lasts around ten seconds. I have no idea how long I spend coming now. My eight cocks continue to spew out cum for what could be minutes, hours, years. I don't know where it's all coming from, but my cocks just keep shooting semen into the tubes. Gallons of the stuff. So much that the thick white fluid starts to ooze out of each tube, dribbling down my eight dicks.
However long they last, eight simultaneous, seemingly never ending orgasms are too much for me to handle, the pleasure too intense. I black out.
***
I regain consciousness to the sound of wailing. Some kind of alarm, I think. When I open my eyes, I see that I am still in the same room, the same multi-limbed machine hanging above me. I move my gaze down across my naked body and see that I only have the one, normal sized penis.
The light is dimmer now, though, and the room is filled with the blaring siren.
Suddenly a rectangular section of the wall is blasted away, the metallic material clattering to the floor. Grey smoke, the smell of burning, and the sound of what can only be gunfire floats into the room. Smoke, smell, and sound is followed by a figure. A humanoid in silvery coveralls, a sleek reflective helmet covering its head.
The figure strides across the room to the metal slab onto which I am still confined. It does something I cannot see, something to the slab, and I can feel whatever force pinning me down disappear.
I stand up, and am immediately at a loss. Do I run out of the room and take my chances in the chaos I can hear beyond? Or do I stay and take my chances with this mysterious figure?
The humanoid walks over to one of the walls and puts its hands on the smooth surface. A panel slides away, revealing a small cupboard containing what appears to be coveralls similar to the one the figure is wearing. My liberator takes one of the coveralls and tosses it over to me. I quickly pull it on, covering my nakedness.
The figure then moves to the opening it blasted in the wall and peers out. Satisfied, it motions for me to follow. I suppose I'm taking my chances with whoever this is, I think to myself.
We step out of the room into a dark corridor. Debris is strewn over the floor, and the smoke and smell of burning is more prevalent. I follow the helmeted figure down the corridor, and down others identical to it. The walls are made of the same uniformly white material as the room I awoke in, albeit with the occasional hole or black scorch mark. The sounds of gunfire haven't let up, but they always seem far away.
My head has cleared somewhat, and I begin to wonder where I am. Strange technology, erotically-charged body horror, silvery coveralls: I'm pretty sure I'm in some kind of secret military base. Though, fuck knows what they want with me, other than giving me the best wank of my life.
Eventually my rescuer leads me to a large open space. At first, I take it for some kind of hall, then I notice the vehicles dotted around. They are unmistakably spaceships. Beyond them is a large opening, the height and width of what I realise is a hangar, through which I can see black dotted with pinpricks of light. It is unmistakably space.
I am in space.
Beyond the smug acknowledgement that reading all that science fiction might actually pay off, I have no time for wonder or contemplation, as the figure leads me to one of the parked spaceships, a stubby, angular vehicle about the size of a bus. A hatch opens on the side of the vehicle, and a walkway descends to the hangar floor. We walk up into the spaceship.
The interior of the vehicle is small and cramped. The hatch leads to a tiny space which appears to be a combined storage and sleeping area; a couple of metal lockers and a floor chest crowd around a pallet. Beyond is what looks like the cockpit: a chair facing a panel of dials, switches, and buttons, all below a wide window displaying a view of the hangar and the blackness of space beyond.