Why was the floor so far away? Wait, no, why was the ceiling-? Both. Right, it was both. How was he suspended in mid air like that?
He blinked a bit. Or not. Weird. But he recognized the warmth and softness under his belly. Someone was carrying him. Being a bro. Helping a bro. Whoa, too fast. He was getting a headache. He lifted a hand to rub his forehead and-
He didn't. Couldn't, rather. Why couldn't he...? Oh, right, dicked. No hands. No limbs. Nothing but his own penis. That wasn't a bro, that was Hugo, the freak that was turning dudes into their cocks. That had been sucking on Elliot or something, when the guy was passed out. Not cool. He ought to...
His shaft jolted, barely lifting before it fell back into Hugo's palm. Right. A dick couldn't slug anyone hard in the face. He was his own dick. Why did he keep forgetting that?
Fuck, he was way too drunk.
Right about now, he should be looking for a toilet to throw up. Considering how dizzy he was, that should be his next course of action. If he could move. Or talk. Could he talk?
'Hey,' he thought very hard, 'Hugo, Hugo... Bastard! I'm about to throw up.'
Hugo didn't even look down. Giant fingers rubbed his body all over, like setting fireworks inside his head. Heat flooded him, and his sack suddenly felt tighter.
'I'm serious, dude. I don't... shit, I'm drooling already,' his train of thought crashed, 'wait, this... this feels, amazing. It's not, oh, fuck, oooh, right, dick.'
The heat settled across his shaft, his dickhead swelled a bit, but... he felt relaxed still. His body wasn't very tense. No way that was right. His dick always got like concrete when he was rubbing it.
The touch got a little rougher, without much effect. Hugo's huge eyebrows knitted together, as if unsure. Seriously? Why was this taking so long? Couldn't the dude have a better grip on him? Show some skills with handjobs or go another route if not? If he was going to get freaky and turn him into a dick, the least he could do was make him cum. What was the point otherwise?
"Mhm, I suppose the amount of alcohol in your system is simply too great."
What? No. He didn't get a case of whiskey dick from a couple of shooters, two hard drinks and five or seven beers. That was nothing! Hell, he was seeing very clearly, like, Hugo's face was freakishly huge in comparison to him. The rest of the party was a bit blurry, but that was distance, right? Right?
"The size conversion must have contributed to your greater inebriation. Are you even conscious at this point?" he asked, snide.
'I'll have you know I'm perfectly luci... lucky... luf... I'm thinking clearly! Now, grind me against your dick and I'll show you how a real man gushes!'
"Who's that you got there?" someone asked, much like those wrestlers fuckers. Or fucking wrestlers. Same thing, really.
Except the dude this time was a good guy. Peter. A friend, and not a complete prick unlike a lot of people at this party. Peter looked like the sexy librarian in every porn movie, except he had a brain other than the one between his legs.
"Oh, I'm not sure." Hugo replied. What? Shit, he dicked him and didn't even bother finding out? - wait, why was he drooling more pre? -- "Some guy that was begging to be dicked. He said his dream was to become some sexy hunk's cock forever."
Red spread over Peter's cheeks, and damn, that was a good look on him. "Really? I mean, I guess I can understand, when you're that big..."
"His only condition is that you treat him exactly as you would your own dick. No talking to him, no acknowledging him as a person, just act as if he'd always been your dick. Forget he was ever a man. Think you can do that?"
'Fucking lies! He's a freak, Peter. Don't listen to him! I'm a person. I'm not just a dick. Well, I am, I mean, it's his fault that I'm a dick, because he was doing something to Elliot and oh, fuck, I think I know what he was doing to Elliot now.'
"It'll be like he was born as my cock and nothing else!" Peter promised with a sly grin.
'Come on! No one just randomly decides they want to lose their life and become somebody's dick! Sounds hot, like, fuck, maybe I'd try, but, but...'
Hugo's hands turned him around, making him face Hugo's shirt instead of Peter's. "Good. Then he's yours. Permanently."
He heard of a zipper being pulled down.
''No no no no no, DON'T!'
He flinched at the touch of flesh against his balls and his undershaft. Peter's cock pressed under him, with Hugo's hand just pushing, and pushing, hard and dark and hot. Suffocating. So hot. Like he was going to melt.
All the thoughts of a real cock came rushing through him. Years of darkness and the occasional rustle against fabric. The typical morning, the wash of soap over him, then under his foreskin. Hundreds of mastubartion session, when Peter spat on him or shoved him inside a fleshlight. Mouths, full of warmth and moisture. Tongues, as big as him, licking his entire body. Everything that had been Peter's cock was known to him, in a flashflood of information. After all, he reasoned with a second's worth of clarity, he *was* Peter's cock now.
Then, he tasted cum. An absolute river's worth of it. His 'mouth' was overflowing with it. It went on and on and oooooon. He was going to drown in cum, and if he had been able to think, he would have begged for nothing else.
"Fuuuuuck," Peter's voice moaned, muffled, "you didn't tell me it was that intense."
From so far below, he could only see Hugo's mouth, smirking. "Well, the first time is."
Everything else began to fade into darkness, as his body softened and the weight of his dickhead slowly made him droop, till he was hanging upside down, drooling out the last of his orgasm. His last thought before his dreams took over was a weak 'no, don't wanna be Peter's cock', but no one heard.