Ben's appetite for ramming his crotch horn into objects eventually lead him to attack the walls of his apartment as well as the contents.
He grunted with satisfaction as his horn pierced his bedroom wall. The gypsum wallboard had punctured in a way that was very agreeable to the bestial cravings that were driving him. He backed up to get more momentum behind his thrust. Charging at the wall his crotch tusk went in accompanied by a loud wooden groaning noise. Ben's eyes rolled upwards in their sockets due to the pleasure and then he tried to gore the wall again, pushing hard with his legs trying to get that wonderful wooden shriek to happen again. The wall did groan a bit as his horn sunk in another centimeter or so, but that wasn't nearly enough so he prepared to pull out and have another go at this wall.
He pulled but nothing happened this time. Every other time he'd rammed some object he had been able to pull out easily. He struggled mightily, but his horn did not so much as budge no matter how hard he pushed against the wall. After a long time struggling to extricate his horn member he exhausted himself and he subsided into resting his torso against the wall. Ben was still unable to think about how to get out of the predicament he had gotten into. Instead every few minute or two he would push and pull as hard as he was able and then subside again into passive frustration feeling rather like a man with his penis inaccessible inside a tight covering.
Gradually without the stimulation of being able to ram objects he came to himself. "Fuck, I really did a number on myself," he murmured rhetorically as he surveyed the damage he had done to his apartment and his own tight spot. He was next to his closet with his pelvis firmly attached to the wall by the horn protruding from his ripped jeans. He could even rest his whole weight on the stuck portion of his anatomy without any movement. He guessed that it must be caught between two boards in the wall. Looking for a way out he looked around and checked his pockets...