As if in a trance, Eric plodded across the field, doing his best to forget his concerns. Whether what Lisa had said was true or not, there wasn't much he could do about it at this point. His stomach continued to churn, but as he settled into a marching rhythm, at least his breathing became more consistent. Beneath his feet, the ground was uneven and lumpy. Most of the field was wild and overgrown, but he was approaching a drier, rockier patch.
The drips on his feet and legs didn't stop, and gradually became a consistent dribble. The distraction gnawed at him. His legs were drenched in oily, slick precum. How could he possibly show up at Doug's door like this? He stopped his march and glanced around. Finding a small rock nearby, Eric rested on it, deciding to deal with this issue. If his cock wouldn't stop weeping, he'd give it something to cry about.
Certain no one was watching, Eric ran his hand along his equine phallus, each stroke spraying the ground with more pre than he'd ever imagined. On the plus side, he had no shortage of lubricant as he rubbed his throbbing erection. In spite of his situation, Eric found himself getting into it, thrusting into his hand faster and faster. He let out a soft moan.
He'd normally topped off at about 6 inches (being generous), but the Chronivac's augmentation had given him a full foot of cockmeat to work with, thicker too, and mottled pink and black. Both hands stroked it now, up and down, sometimes fingering the tip, faster and faster...
His cock erupted into the biggest fountain of jizz Eric had ever seen. Rope after rope flung through the air, coating the ground in a sticky mess. The sensation was overwhelming. He cried out, then cupped his slippery hands over his mouth in the hopes that no one would hear. His dick stayed erect anyway, bobbing between his splayed legs, flinging more and more cum into the clearing.
Finally his ejaculate seemed to die down, and his penis dipped lower. Eric couldn't stop panting. "W-wow..." he breathed softly. That was the most mindblowing orgasm he'd ever experienced. It had taken a lot out of him. He wondered if he should get up and keep moving, or stay and rest a while. He closed his eyes, briefly lost in the afterglow.
The sound of a running faucet drew his attention, and he jerked his eyes open. When he saw the source, they widened even further.
Impossibly, his penis was still dribbling semen, in great heaving globs. It was no longer erect, but it wasn't flaccid either. The growing puddle underneath him spread to coat the edge of his feet. Something was horribly wrong.
Without thinking, Eric grabbed his meat again, and stroked it to full mast once more. Grunting, he brought himself to orgasm again, and his dick was happy to oblige. Again he bathed the ground in chunky cum, blast after blast that seemed like it would never end. The smell assaulted his nose and made his eyes water.
His stomach gurgled as it had earlier, but more forcefully this time. A sinking feeling spread throughout his body, even as his cock continued to bounce and spray like a firehose. Eric felt progressively weaker and nauseous.
Somehow he knew what was happening to him, though the thought filled him with unspeakable dread. As impossible as it should be, the Chronivac had made it possible. He was cumming out his own insides. His body was melting into cum, and merrily rocketing out of his dick as if it was the most normal thing to happen to a high-schooler.
Eric tried to stand but already found it impossible. His muscles were atrophying before his eyes. All he could do was lay on the rock, moan weakly, and watch as his penis continued to erupt. There was so much of it. How much would there be when he was done? If all of him was turning into jizz, then...well, he weighed about 130 pounds. 130 pounds worth of jizz, cooling in a field?
What was going to happen when this was all over? Was he going to die? Somehow Eric found himself oddly accepting of the idea, though his mind may have been fried from the constant endorphin rush. His orgasm was unrelenting.
It was growing more difficult to see in the dim light of dusk, but his stomach and chest were folding over on themselves like a burlap sack. He strained what was left of the muscles in his left arm to raise it up over his head, and felt its jellified contents sluicing downwards into his torso. Blood, muscle, bone...everything was liquifying, and the skin of his arm collapsed in on itself like a rubber glove. Eric giggled dumbly at the sight. He wondered if his brain was melting now as well.
He could no longer feel most of his legs. A plop and a sense of release let him know that his left leg had dissolved completely at the knee, the remains of his thigh splashing wetly into the pool below. With what was left of his right arm, Eric tugged desperately at his cock, exerting all his remaining strength to pull it vertical, until it flopped down onto his chest. It continued to fire its load, painting his face and torso milky white in hot cum. Seconds later, his arm fell off.
Bathed thoroughly in his own man milk, the jizz settled into Eric's skin and further dissolved anything it touched. Eventually, even his cock could take no more, and it split down the middle like a hotdog before joining the rest of the puddle it helped to create.
Eric was no longer aware of any of this. His thoughts floated in a sea of white. His face slipped gently off the rock, floated to the center of the sea of semen, and slowly sank. Remnants of air trapped in his lungs and esophagus burbled to the surface in a series of bubbles, and all lay still.
Eric the stinking, steaming puddle of cum sat motionless in the middle of a field.