Rikimaru
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Donor - Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2020-05-06 20:02:42 +0000 UTC
4.
Two clear plastic cups sat on the sink countertop. One filled with water, the other empty. The torn box just beside them, a foil blister pack sitting on top of it, pairs of pink and pastel blue pills packaged inside. Ludicrously, there actually was a fucking turkey baster laying there as well, at the ready.
Samantha sat on the edge of the tub in the bathroom, her heart pounding. She couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. Her hand was shaking slightly, making it difficult to read the small print of the thin fold-creased paper. Certain phrases kept jumping out at her.
“...efficacy typically observed within five to ten minutes...”
“...may cause an intense sensation of pressure or discomfort...”
“...initial presentation can result in involuntary discharge…”
This was crazy. Why had she agreed to do this? What happened after, if all of this actually worked? Did they really know what they were taking on?
Maybe it wasn’t too late to back out…
Except that it was. The look of tearful elation on Janet’s face that Samantha was briefly able to glimpse before her roommate flung her arms around her the moment she walked through the apartment door that morning precluded any thoughts of going back on her word. Janet looked like herself again, transformed overnight from the lifeless shell of the past months back into the animated lifelong friend she’d always known.
It was all riding on her, Samantha felt. Whether it was fair or not, right or not -- that was totally irrelevant. She could do something, she had it within her ability to make Janet happy again. And not in some shallow, petty, short-lived way either, but by helping her to fulfill one of her fundamental life goals. To bring purpose and meaning back into her life again.
She had to do that.
Didn’t she?
Samantha picked up the blister pack and pushed out a blue pill, holding it up slowly in front of herself, reading ‘T175-C’, which was printed on it in small, nearly indistinguishable text. It was incredible, difficult to believe that this tablet, this tiny little thing was capable of changing her… changing her in a way that she had never thought about, never wondered about, could not even imagine. What would it be like?
The idea seemed so alien, so repulsive. That she would voluntarily do this…
But then, something about that line of thinking felt a little mean-spirited. This drug was a miracle to some people. Because of it, they were capable of becoming who they always wanted to be, perhaps who they were meant to be. The answer to their dreams. Even in a way, the answer to Janet’s dreams.
Still, despite the diplomatic considerations, Samantha was nervous. Scared, even. Taking this drug was going to... alter her. In a very fundamental way.
It’s not permanent, Samantha told herself. Just take the pink pill and I’m back to my regular old self.
Who knows? Maybe everything will work on the very first go, and I’ll never have to do this ever again… Samantha encouraged herself and she picked up the cup of water.
Nonetheless, she continued to hesitate. Her heart hadn’t stopped hammering inside of her chest. Her mouth had gone bone dry and she swallowed thickly. But after several minutes of just standing there indecisively, she realized that nothing was going to change; she’d already deliberated the reasons for and against doing this a hundred times over, she’d made the commitment to her friend, and now it was simply time to either do it or not.
“This is for you, Janet,” Samantha muttered out loud. “You owe me..!”
She took a deep breath, put the tiny blue pill in her mouth and washed it down.
She set the cup down with a slightly trembling hand. It was done. This was it. Now, the drug just had to do its work. She glanced at the clock, marking the time. Between five and ten minutes, the instructions said.
The seconds ticked by tortuously. After what felt like an eternity, she checked the clock again, to see that less than a minute had passed.
She watched herself in the mirror, the idea occuring to her that maybe something was happening that she could see but not feel, but it was only her familiar self that looked back out of the reflection, a pretty, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, young woman. ‘The blonde bombshell’, as Janet was prone to call her.
She was momentarily distracted from the task at hand, giving herself an appraising look and was not unhappy with what she saw. There was some truth to Janet’s ribbing -- she’d always had an attractive face, nice figure and a bust that turned heads.
Samantha had always taken care of herself, but never moreseo than now -- watching what she’d been eating and stepping up her workout routine in preparation for the upcoming wedding had been making a difference and she was more fit and toned than she’d ever been, which was easy to see in the thin strapped pink dress she was wearing.
The dress… It grounded her back in the moment; she’d picked it out this morning specifically, not because of how it showcased her figure, but rather in anticipation of what she’d be doing later in the day… Samantha didn’t know what exactly this was going to be like, but maybe pants weren’t a good idea…
And so she’d decided instead to put on this dress, and, dear God, it
did show off her assets and she looked great in it -- the thought triggered a sudden onset of rising panic.
She was more than happy with herself, perfectly content with her own body! What was she thinking, taking this pill, what in the world was she doing?!
She had to stop this! She’d figure out what to tell Janet later, but first, she had to just abort this insane idea immediately! She picked up the foil pack, intending to push out one of the pink pills and gobble it down.
It was right then that the drug kicked in. Samantha let out a small whimper as she suddenly felt a small but distinct jolt, right between her legs.
Oh no…
It’s happening…
There was a feeling of indistinct pressure, a vague sensation akin to a slightly full bladder, which suddenly ramped up in intensity, and in tandem there came a rising burning sensation, like a spark igniting.
The foil pack numbly dropped from her fingertips.
The sensation subsided slightly and came roaring back even more strongly, eliciting a sharp inhale from Samantha, as ever growing waves of pressure and burning continued. Her knees turned involuntarily towards each other, nearly giving way, and she doubled over, both hands going to her crotch, eyes squeezed tightly shut as another spike of blazing pressure hit.
Samantha yanked the hem of her short dress up with one hand, the other cupping her sex through her panties, where it was promptly crushed between her clamped thighs. Jaw clenched, lips pursed together, breathing noisily through her nose, she peripherally wondered if she’d inadvertently peed herself, as her panties were completely soaked through.
The pressure was building intolerably; Samantha swore she could feel her clit pulsing beneath her palm, engorged to the limit and yet still the sensation continued to grow and grow.
Something… something’s wrong…
It’s too much…
I can’t… I can’t take this…
I’m going to explode..!
Just when Samantha felt she couldn’t tolerate it for one instant more, something inside suddenly gave way and she felt a huge gushing wetness drench her hand just as her clit did feel like it was actually exploding, the release of the agonizing pressure so powerful that the relief was indistinguishable from pleasure, as she felt a hot, hard, pulsing mass growing beneath her palm, pushing against it, filling her panties.
Samantha stared through squinting, watery eyes at the expanding bulge in the front of her panties, quivering as it slid out, growing longer and longer, until the fat swollen head of her newly emerged phallus burst out over the hemline of her drenched underwear.
It gave a great twitch, pulling away from her body, stretching the waistband, and then began spewing ejaculation, bobbing back against her flat belly before pulling away again, squirting in thick heavy pulses.
“Urrrrk!”
The queer noise escaped from Samantha’s throat with the first spurt, involuntarily. She wasn’t prepared for just how great the pleasure was going to be from that initial release, like a dam giving way, more powerful than any orgasm she’d ever had before in her life. In some sense, it was the same as the climaxes she had always known, but there was some new raw, instinctual ecstasy that accompanied every foreign throbbing pulse as the semen jetted out.
She automatically reached inside of her panties, yanking her cock free, stroking it mindlessly as it continued to erupt copious amounts of thick, white fluid in a series of bursts, while practically choking back the moans that threatened to escape, resulting in a few noisy snorts as she breathed heavily through her nose.
At last, the climax began to subside, and her hand began stroking herself more slowly now, loosening its iron grip on her rigid shaft.
“Holy shit,” she whispered, gasping as quietly as she could. “Oh, shit…”
She swallowed thickly, before letting out another gasp, eyes sliding shut, trying to catch her breath, chest heaving. That was… that was not what she’d expected…
Once her rational mind began slowly grinding back into action, a small concern began to creep in, before her eyes snapped open again and full panic set in once more.
Oh fuck..!
She was supposed to have ejaculated into the cup, for Janet to use! It still sat there on the counter top, pristine, untouched and completely empty. By juxtaposition, the bathroom itself was a complete disaster. She had ejaculated everywhere -- on the floor, on the shower curtains, in the bathtub. Her hand was covered with it. There were dark wet cum stains on her pretty pink dress.
Samantha stood there in shock for a few moments, mortified at the huge mess she had made. She looked down at herself in horror, her huge member, still erect, pinned by her soaking panties up against her stomach, still dribbling from the tip.
She was caught up then, engrossed at the new alien member, thick and hard, shining and red, bulging up from between her legs, a jumble of confused thoughts racing through her mind -- she was going to have to clean this mess up; she had grown a gigantic cock; and she was going to have to get another “donation” from it.
She bit her lip indecisively, unsure what to do next, before she impulsively grabbed a roll of toilet paper and began frantically cleaning and wiping everything down. The semen was thick and warm and goopy, coming up from the soiled surfaces in thick globs. The distinct smell of it wafted up at her, filling her nose.
Oh, this is disgusting, she thought faintly. There was so much of it, and it had all come from her… from her body... from her… thing...
Due to her hurried, frenzied pace, Samantha had the bathroom clean again quite quickly, though she’d nearly used up the whole roll. The garbage can was near overflowing with soaked, sticky tissue paper.
OK, it’s done, she thought, surveying her surroundings, satisfied with her cleanup efforts. Now, only one last thing to do…
And the moment was before her now, once again. Only this time, she wasn’t overwhelmingly in shock, acting out of instinctive impulse, unaware of what she was doing. This time, it would be deliberate. She would, with her full consciousness touch it. Rub it. Stimulate it. Until more semen came out...
Jeez… Ok… Just do it. You have to do it, Samantha willed herself. You’ve already done it once… just do it again, one more time...
Slowly, hesitantly, she reached back down between her legs, grimacing as her fingers touched her damp panties, going inside of them. Her breath caught in her throat as she wrapped her fingers around her still erect shaft once more.
She stood motionless for a moment, gripping her tool, trying to center herself. Despite having already experienced it only minutes ago, she still wasn’t prepared for just how good this felt, even that renewed contact alone, which was shocking given her hesitation to even touch it again just moments before.
In a way, it wasn’t that weird at all, she told herself. It was quite the same as any other male phallus she’d ever touched (though perhaps not matching this one’s width and girth). The only truly unnerving thing was just that she could feel it, feel the sensation of her own fingers grasping herself, hadn’t realized how sensitive it would be… how thoroughly its wants would become integrated with her own…
It wanted to be stroked… She wanted to stroke herself…
She let out a shuddery exhale as she moved her hand up the length of herself, her palm sliding easily with the lubrication and cum still covering her member, and as she reached the swollen, engorged head, immediately she changed direction, sliding back again to the base, squeezing with gentle pressure.
Jesus Christ, it felt amazing. She couldn’t believe it felt so freaking good… Samantha stroked the length of herself up and down again, and then again, breathing erratically all the while, still in awe. The pleasure… she hadn’t known she would feel so much pleasure with this…
More…
Her hand was starting to move faster now, her panties stretching to accommodate her ministrations. Up and down. Up and down. Rubbing. Stroking. The delicious, sliding friction making her cock swell even harder, throbbing.
She was banging her fist back and forth, jacking herself roughly, growing excited. She realized she was panting, probably too loudly, but wasn’t able to restrain herself any more than this -- it was all she could do to not let out loud, indecent moans.
The pressure was building again, that familiar and foreign feeling of a nearing climax. She could feel it growing in her swollen, throbbing head, her shaft growing rock hard, burning hot as she compulsively stimulated herself towards another orgasm.
Each stroke increased the tension, a combination of aching need and agony and rapture. Sweat broke out on Samantha’s forehead, dripping down her face. Her massive phallus was pulsing, pulling away from her body again as it went completely rigid and erect, angled forward and upwards, but while she felt on the verge of erupting, she held it back, even as her hand continued stroking and trying to make it happen, obeying some base instinct to prolong the moment, knowing it would increase the pleasure that much more…
With her last ounce of sanity, Samantha reached out, fumbling, grasping for the cup, finally catching the rim of it and roughly shoving it in front of herself. In that moment, she saw herself in the mirror, fully as what she had become -- a smoking hot blonde in a skimpy short, jizz stained dress, frantically jacking off her own gigantic cock.
Eyes locking with her reflection, she wasn’t able to hold back any longer, transfixed by herself, her mouth forming an ‘O’ as she twitched with silent ecstasy, her brow creased, a nearly pained expression on her face, the orgasm intolerably powerful. Her cock spewed huge spurts of semen again, the first of them shooting out powerfully, spattering the mirror before the next ones squirted out thickly in smaller arcs, slopping over her hands, filling the cup. Her hips were pumping forward in erratic, jerky motions, jamming her cock into her fist before pulling back and doing it again as she ejaculated over and over again.
When the squirts finally began to taper off, Samantha felt her head lolling back, upturned towards the ceiling, eyes squeezed shut, mouth hanging open, gasping for air. Her hand holding the cup fell away to her side, and the other was still loosely jerking herself compulsively. She shuddered, as post-orgasm her cock was now overly sensitive, but still contradictorily demanded more stimulation. Without a free hand to prevent it, her dress hem had fallen down again, unnoticed, draping her hand and her heavy male organ, fresh wet spots blossoming up as it soaked up more of the dribbling semen.
“Ho…” Samantha whispered. “Oh my fucking god…”
She finally released herself, letting out another shuddery exhale, then brought the cup up in front of herself with a trembling hand. It was nearly half full, despite not capturing a good amount, perhaps even most of it. Samantha was momentarily transfixed, staring at the opaque thick fluid, feeling the warmth of it radiating, the heavy musk of it permeating her nose, in disbelief once again that this had come out of her body.
Then, suddenly with an abrupt shake of her head, Samantha set the cup down, a little too hard, as if waking up from a fever pitched dream. The dawning realization and horror was growing within once more, a repulsion of the mess she had made, of what she had done, the way she had let this perverse, alien lust override her senses so completely.
How much time had she spent in the bathroom by now? It must have been nearly an hour. What must Janet think, out there in the apartment, waiting for her to come out with the specimen?
Samantha hastily began cleaning up once more, before shocking herself yet again, that she had practically forgotten about her new appendage, still resolutely erect, filling her panties, bulging underneath her dress.
Jesus, what is wrong with me?!
She promptly rinsed her hands and then took the pink pill from the remaining first section of the blister pack, swallowing it quickly without thinking twice. She stood there for a few seconds waiting, but, still feeling mortified at how long she’d already taken, she set about cleaning once more. She was pitching the last of the toilet paper into the overflowing waste bin, when she felt it -- a feeling of calmness and relaxation wash over her. Simultaneously, Samantha felt her erection finally coming down, before the bulge in her front began to recede and then disappear altogether. She peeked down the front of her sodden panties and was immensely relieved to see her regular familiar self down there, breathing a sigh of relief.
Then she rushedly dabbed at her perspiring face, and arranged her damp tousled hair. Her dress was a disgusting mess, but there was nothing she could do about it except take a few ineffectual swipes at the damp stains with a tissue.
This is it, she thought, glancing around the room and then at her reflection one last time. There was nothing more she could do. She opened the bathroom and stuck her head out, looking around, but couldn’t see Janet directly.
“Ok, I’m done,” Samantha called out before fairly rushing across the apartment to her room. She shut the door behind her, quickly tearing her soiled dress off and throwing it in a crumpled ball in the back corner of her closet before grabbing a clean one and pulling it on.
She emerged from her bedroom to see Janet standing in the middle of the living room, waiting for her.
“Are… are you ok?”
“I’m fine!” Samantha replied, though she could hear herself sounding ridiculously overly-enthusiastic as she walked stiltedly past her roommate to the apartment door, repressing the urge to all-out run. “Totally fine!”
She turned at the door. “Everything’s in the bathroom. I’ll call you later. I just… I gotta go!!”
Without waiting for a response, Samantha left the apartment and fled.
Never again, she pleaded in her head as the elevator descended down to the lobby. Oh, please, please, let this work, and I’ll never have to do that ever again…
