As the clock strikes midnight, Eric grabs the banana card, letting the other two cards drop. As they fall, they dissolve into dust, creating a small pile of ashes on the floor. Meanwhile, the banana card starts to glow in Eric’s hand. It becomes searing hot, and Eric shields his eyes, cursing. Then, in a flash, it too vanishes.
Blinking his eyes against the afterimages, Eric looks around his room. The box of cards has sealed itself once more. Nothing else seems out of the ordinary, though Eric finds himself feeling a bit warm. He rubs his fingers where they were scorched by the card. They’re still tingling.
Eric drifts through his nighttime routine, washing his face and brushing his teeth in a daze. Could it all have been a trick? No, it’s far too convincing. Eric looks at his pale, scared face in the cracked mirror. “Magic is real,” he tells himself, his voice shaking.
Getting into bed, Eric is sure he’ll be tossing and turning all night, but sudden exhaustion takes him, and he drifts off without any trouble at all.
The next morning, Eric wakes up feeling horny. It’s not such an unusual feeling for him, as a normal 18-year-old boy, but Eric finds himself palming himself through his loose boxers with unusual intensity. His dick seems especially needy for attention.
Needy. The word bounces around in Eric’s head as he strokes himself to full hardness. Yeah, he’s got a needy cock. It’s not just that he has a normal libido, his cock has needs. It needs his hand on it. It needs to thrust, rut, and cum. Eric rolls over onto his belly and starts thrusting into his hand. In seconds, he cums with a groan, leaving a few drops of pearly semen on his sheets. He’s always had pretty light loads.
It’s a pretty uneventful Sunday. It’s warm, so Eric reasons he may as well not get dressed. He sits around in his dorm, playing some video games. He needs to go grocery shopping, but he figures that he can just go tomorrow. After last night, he needs a break.
Throughout the day, Eric feels a slowly growing awareness of his dick. Usually, it’s not much of a problem for him. He’s never been the kind of guy who has to masturbate more than a few times a week. He’s never even managed to get close enough to someone to know if he’s more of a top or a bottom. Sex has simply not been much of a concern when he isn’t even out to anyone.
But suddenly, his dick is grabbing his attention. It just seems to… rub against him, somehow. The fabric of his boxers is stimulating it. How strange.
At the next save point, Eric sticks his hand into his undies. He probably just has to adjust himself. As soon as he touches himself, he groans, loud. His cock feels so good. But he really wants to beat this next boss. He tucks his hardening cock down into the leg of his boxers and withdraws his hand with one last lingering touch of the head. As he does, he feels a slick wetness on his fingers. Did he cum again? No, the liquid is clear.
On impulse, Eric sniffs his hand. The smell is rich, tangy, a little bit bitter. Back in his sex ed, he remembers reading about precum. He’s never produced enough to notice before.
Except for his strangely insistent dick, Eric’s evening goes pretty normally. He finishes up his game and gets ready for bed. As he lies down, he can’t resist fishing his cock out. He rolls over onto his belly and thrusts into his hand once again. There’s a strange smoothness to the motion of his hand up and down his length now, like he has some extra skin. Eric’s about to pull himself up and look when his orgasm suddenly hits him. Without even getting up to wipe off his sheets, Eric falls asleep on top of the dribble of slick cum.
Monday morning is much the same as Sunday. Eric cums into his hand, rutting against his sheets. This time, he puts a pillow down under him. Somehow, this needy cock of his isn’t satisfied. It wants something more. He can’t ignore it as he showers and gets dressed. Even tucked into his jeans as he walks around the grocery store, Eric can’t stop paying attention to his cock. Every time he passes a man, it jumps, sometimes making him moan quietly.
On Tuesday, Eric has a summer class. His cock is so insistent in the morning that he cums twice before walking out the door, each less satisfying than the last. His whole class, Eric rocks forward and back, feeling the occasional drip of precum leak into his boxers as he stimulates himself with his skinny thighs. By the end of class, he’s absorbed nothing, but his boxers have absorbed so much they feel slick as he walks.
Eric resists jerking off as soon as he’s back in his room. He knows it won’t be satisfying anyway. He rips off his jeans and boxers. “What do you want?” he asks his dick.
The head is slick and shiny with precum. It seems to be gathering up under the flap of skin that’s loosened from just below the frenulum. Do guys just grow back their foreskins? As his cock bounces in time with his thundering heart, Eric looks down and suddenly has the mental image of his needy cock jackhammering a thick ass, or facefucking some guy’s throat.
Even as he imagines it, Eric feels the orgasm building. Just the thought of its needs being met has his cock about to blow. “N-no,” Eric gasps, attempting to dispel the images, but then his mind fills with the image of having one boy sucking his cockhead while another mouths at his balls. With an uncontrollable moan, Eric shoots a jet of cum out onto the floor, his knees buckling as his cock continues to unload.
On Wednesday morning, Eric wakes up with a tacky pool of mixed precum and cum on his slender belly, dripping onto the sheets on either side. He must have cum at least twice in his sleep, but his cock is still hard, the foreskin pulled back from the shiny purple head, a steady stream of precum leaking down his shaft.
Eric stares down at his cock, then looks towards the box of cards, still sitting innocently on his desk. “I can’t do this,” he tells the box flatly. “I can’t fucking do this. What am I supposed to do? Get a personality transplant?”
His fingers, where he touched the banana card, tingle for an instant.
As he wipes up the gooey puddle from his belly and groin, Eric has a sudden thought. What would be so bad about just… enjoying this? Most guys would be happy to suddenly have a leaky uncut cock with a need to fuck. He should just enjoy it while it lasts.
“Fucking weird,” he mutters to himself, rolling his eyes and pulling on a pair of boxers.
It’s a few days early, but Eric’s soaked through all his underwear and has to do laundry. He sits in the laundry room, resolved to go through the lecture he couldn't pay attention to yesterday. As the boxers tumble in the sudsy water, the precum stains refuse to come out, sinking deeper into the fabric. By the end of the spin cycle, Eric’s clothes have begun to transform, the colours lightening and legs shortening on all of his baggy, body-hiding clothes.
Distracted by his lecture and the growing sensation of his cock swinging around in his boxers half-hard, Eric doesn’t notice as he transfers the load over to the dryer. As the clothes tumble, the changes become more apparent. The baked-in precum lets off a funky stench, making Eric’s head spin as all of his boxers transform into briefs, his pants into shorts. The sleeves slice neatly off all his T-shirts and vanish.
“Are these my clothes?” Eric mutters to himself as he unloads the dryer. He gives one of the briefs a sniff, filling his nose with the scent of his own pre. “Damn, yeah,” he chuckles, pulling out the rest. He can’t help but think that he should be kinda disgusted by that, right? But no, it’s actually pretty hot that his pre and cum are so powerful they can’t be washed out.
The rest of the day is similarly weird. Eric keeps having these weird thoughts, like he has two personalities in him. One is painfully shy and closeted, while the other is confident and a bit cocky. With every dribble of precum from his thick uncut cock, Eric can feel the shy personality being subsumed into this more confident man.
The next morning, Eric’s woken up by his last orgasm of the night, pumping several shots of cum right up onto his neck. God, he needs to figure out how to satiate this needy cock of his. Before he’s gotten out of bed, he’s already unloaded again, thrusting down into the towel he needs to keep on his bed all the time.
Instead of paying attention to his Thursday lecture, Eric downloads Grindr and uploads a selfie of his torso in bed this morning, covered in a layer of pearlescent cum. “Big shooter, in need of hole,” he writes as his bio. He doesn’t have any shame left, he needs to unload inside of a man. He can’t help but think that the cards heard his plea yesterday, and tore down some of his inhibitions.
Even so, that evening Eric finds himself unable to message back to any of the guys who message him. Every new hole pic or open mouth he receives makes him shrink deeper into his old shyness, even as his cock pisses precum at the sight of all these ready holes. Shuddering through his nth orgasm, he finally falls asleep.
By Friday morning, Eric is basically caught in a continuous, low-grade orgasm. His whole mind is suffused by need, and he snatches up his phone and messages the nearest person with “bottom” in their profile, probably someone in his dorm. “U up?”
The other guy responds immediately. “Damn, can I suck u?”
Eric groans as the thought sends a jet of cum out of his cock. He sends the guy his room number and opens his door at the knock a few minutes later.
The guy is cute, a little taller than Eric, tan with a cute little belly. “Holy shit,” he says, gaping at Eric’s continual leaking and the puddles of cum all over the floor.
“Get in here,” Eric growls, dragging the guy inside to slam the door shut. He shoves the guy down to his knees and rams his cock into his mouth.
It’s like a circuit closes. For the first time in two days, Eric can think as spurts of cum drain down the guy’s throat. He cums for what feels like minutes, until finally the need subsides and he pulls out, his cock softening at last.
The guy wipes at a trail of cum that leaked out of his mouth and licks it up. “So, hi, I’m Blair,” he says.
Suddenly, Eric is laughing. He can’t seem to stop. He drops to his knees in front of Blair and grins helplessly at him while continuing to laugh.
“Sorry,” Eric says finally, getting himself back under control. “That was… That was my first time.”
“Damn.” Blair looks down at Eric’s soft cock, a bead of pre already forming at the tip of the foreskin. “Can I get be your second time too? Like, after lunchtime, maybe, because I think you filled me right up."
The two boys laugh together. “Uh, maybe. My cock is like, needy—“
Blair is cute and funny, and Eric finds him easy to talk to, even if their introduction was Eric unloading five men’s worth of cum into Blair’s belly. Eric finds himself feeling confident, even a little sexy, as they spend the day together. When they walk together to the dining hall for dinner, Eric finds his cock filled with a new need, and he lowers his shorts for a moment. A cock like his deserves to be seen, to show off the pre stain on his briefs.
Saturday, Eric feels almost normal. Blair gives him a real blowjob in the morning, though Eric ends up facefucking him a bit. His cock just needs to thrust. Then they play video games together between Blair draining Eric's balls until Blair heads back to his own room near midnight.
As he closes the door behind Blair, Eric remembers what happened last Saturday. He turns back to his desk to see the box of cards sitting open. Well, having a hyperactive dick hasn’t been so bad, now that he’s figured it out. He just has to solve whatever new problem these cards are gonna throw at him.
On the first card is a drawing of a dog. It's one of the stereotypically aggressive breeds, a pit bull, standing in a defensive posture with its teeth bared. The wolf-like attitude and masculine lines of its body makes Eric think of cocky, 'manly' guys who always jump to their own defense and snap at anyone who looks at them funny.
On the second card, the art shows a cat. The cat is sitting with its back to the viewer, looking over one shoulder as if Eric isn't worth its time. Just like those independent, self-assured guys who float above everything in their lives, Eric realises. The cat looks like it marches to its own beat and doesn't bother with other people.
On the third card, there's a large, square-headed animal surrounded by smaller versions of itself. It's a capybara, Eric remembers. It looks so relaxed, chilling with its friends. Somehow, the art gives off a happy, carefree vibe. Sure, the capybara doesn't look like it spends much time thinking, but it clearly has a lot of friends and just chills all day.
What card does Eric pick?
Voting ended onAug 14, 2023
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See Eric's whole journey with the 1000 cards here.
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