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Escape

By Kjorteo Kalante

http://kjorteo.net

http://www.furaffinity.net/user/kjorteo

---

All things considered, the shock of the sudden free-fall was much more jarring to him than the impact at the bottom. After all, a pile of relatively soft blankets had broken his fall, leaving him with no injuries except the ones to his pride. No, it definitely had to be the fall itself, just for the sheer surprise of it all.

He had been navigating the upper floor smoothly and successfully. He hadn't seen another living creature anywhere. Perhaps he had grown too proud of his own elusiveness, too comfortable with how easy it all had been up to this point. He was in the air before he had even heard the sound of the floor giving way, and he was lying prone on a pile of blankets before he had time to register the fact that he was falling. The whole event was alarmingly sudden.

This must have been a trap, and he had been careless enough to literally walk right into it.

He leapt to his feet as soon as he had recovered enough of his own wits to do so. He took only the briefest of glances around the room into which he had fallen. If he was right about this being a trap, then time was an issue. He had no intention of remaining here long enough to be discovered. He needed a door, a ladder, something--surely this room must have exits! There was the blanket pile, and some sort of pool on the far side. Did the pool lead anywhere? No, the liquid it was filled with, while certainly not clear, was at least close enough to transparent that he could see the bottom. No caverns or tunnels within. That was no good, but what about--ah! There! On the far wall, he saw a hallway, the entrance blocked by some sort of gate. No door and no keyhole; just a simple portcullis. It must have been controlled remotely.

Concluding his brief survey of the room, it appeared that the gate was the only way out. The hole through which he fell was far enough from the walls of the room that climbing them would not help, and there were no other exits. The gate did not appear to be metallic. Some sort of wood, perhaps? Iron or steel would have been problematic, but this might be something he could break through.

He lowered his shoulder and gave a feral cry as he ran toward the gate. He wasn't thrilled at the thought of the excess attention he would draw with the noise that made, but all the stealth in the world would not save him if he couldn't get out of this room. He hit the gate at his absolute top speed. His body compacted painfully, his shoulder taking most of the impact as his fast-moving body met with an immobile gate that gave no concession whatsoever. He fell unceremoniously to the floor. Deflected! The gate was sturdy enough that he bounced right off of it!

No. This would not do. He had already jeopardized his position with that shout. He would not accept the possibility of simultaneously drawing attention to a room and still remaining trapped inside it. There was no time to rationalize this--all he could do was get up as quickly as he could manage, give another cry, and charge the gate again.

He bounced off the gate again, scoring no apparent damage to it whatsoever, though the pain in his shoulder intensified after having run into it again. This time, he managed to control his momentum and keep his balance after a few cautious backwards steps, rather than falling over again. That was not a good sign. If he were able to maintain his balance, then he must have taken the second charge more slowly than the first, already starting to subconsciously fear the impact and approach with more caution. No, he could not afford that. He would have to take this gate at full force, shoulder injuries be damned.

He was already hurting after the second failed assault, and the third certainly did not help him, nor did the fourth. The shout he gave as he charged for the fifth time was less a bold war cry and more a simple reaction to the pain. He clenched his jaws tightly, laying still and breathing raggedly on the floor after the fifth deflection sent him tumbling to the ground once more. His will was strong, but even he couldn't ignore the pain forever, and the thought of a sixth charge made him wince before he even got up to make it. Clearly, this was not working.

Dragging himself to his feet, he stumbled toward the gate again, this time slowly walking up to it rather than attempting to run through. He was strangely weary. Injured shoulder or no, he should not have been this weary so suddenly. Whatever was causing that, he had to resist it. He summoned his strength, determined to escape before he was left completely helpless. He couldn't break through the gate, but perhaps he could lift it. Kneeling and grabbing near its base, he attempted to lift upward, to no avail. Trying again, he stood up while still holding the gate at the same place, now bent over to do so, and gave one more cry as he channeled all the strength he could into lifting. Not only did it fail to work, but his shoulder pain quickly became debilitating.

He sank to the ground, pain and frustration combined making it more and more difficult to maintain his composure as each moment passed. Was he now so injured that his arm was useless for lifting? There was no way he could do this with one arm. None. He was completely unable to get through the gate, and he couldn't even climb the wall anymore. This was it. They had him. He even made all the noise he could while trying to escape, undoubtedly drawing extra attention to this room, and he would still be trapped when they inevitably came for him.

His strength finally failing him entirely, he stumbled back toward the pile of blankets onto which he initially fell. How had he gotten so tired all the sudden? He only been in this room long enough to run into the gate a few times, and he was fine before then. Some sort of energy crash as the adrenaline rush wore off? Some strange side-effect of his shoulder injury? Something about the room itself? Never in his life had he gone from full alertness to the point of near-collapse this quickly, and he wasn't above suspecting the room of doing...something.

Not that it mattered. They must have heard the noise, and would undoubtedly come to investigate. He considered waiting by the gate so that he could attempt to fight his way through once they came for him, but he quickly dismissed the idea as hopeless. He couldn't even lift the gate in his condition, and he certainly couldn't fight. He was quickly growing too tired to stand, let alone spring into action in time to surprise them, and for all he knew, they wouldn't be stupid enough to open the gate anyway. He was sure the inevitable taunting over how easy he was to catch could be heard just as well through the bars.

No, it was useless. He sat down on the blanket pile, his gaze alternating between the gate and the hole in the ceiling. He was powerless to act, but he wanted to at least see them coming. He surrendered to his fatigue after a short while, the sitting turning into a slumped recline, and eventually into a complete collapse. They would come for him. He knew they would. He just had to stay alert long enough to see them. He just had to stay awake for a little longer. He just... he just....

---

He threw himself upward with a jolt, on his feet before he was fully awake, quickly attempting to ascertain the situation. Awake now...was he asleep before? He was still in the same room. He was resting on the same pile of blankets, and there was the pool, and that damned gate. He must have dozed off. How long was he asleep? He had no means of keeping time in this room, so it was impossible to say.

However long it was, they hadn't come for him yet, which surprised him. They had to have heard him trapped in here. He had certainly made enough noise for them! He even injured his own shoulder and then went to sleep after calling all that attention to himself! He scolded himself for how quickly he had gone from sly and elusive to hopelessly caught and defenseless. They hadn't even shown up yet, but they didn't need to--at this rate, it was only a matter of time before he found a way to do himself in and spare them the bother!

No, no sense moping. He was caught, but he was not going to sink into hopeless despair. He'd just have to wait and see what they intended for him. How long were they going to take to find him, anyway?

He had no way of knowing how long he had slept, but he was still not at all rested. Perhaps it had only been a small nap, too brief to actually restore his energy. Perhaps the way he threw himself off the blankets with such a start managed to exhaust him again. Either way, his sudden yawn betrayed how tired he still was. He looked at the blanket pile, thinking. He was in no condition to escape. He was sure they would come for him eventually, probably while he slept. Nothing would change that. Attempting some futile display of bravery and perpetual alertness by forcing himself to stay awake would only make him that much more exhausted later. Perhaps he should accept the chance to have a proper night's sleep while he still could.

He rearranged the blanket pile to make it more suitable for bedding. It had already served its purpose of catching someone who fell through the ceiling, but it needed a few adjustments to make a proper bed. Some of the blankets had clearly been there for much too long and were in pitiable condition, though the rest were still quite serviceable. He set the decayed blankets aside, laid some of the good ones down below him to make a cushion, and pulled the rest on top of him. A large part of him was concerned with how comfortable he suddenly found it, but...oh, well. He could worry about it when he was less tired. He closed his eyes and slept again, this time willingly.

---

After sleeping much more soundly than he would have expected to, he slowly regained his awareness. It was a peaceful awakening, which surprised him. He had gone to sleep expecting that they would wake him when they arrived. Instead, he was apparently allowed to sleep in, waking slowly and naturally. Surely there was no way that they could have gone this long and still not found him. What was keeping them?

Concern eventually overtaking sleepiness, he untangled himself from the makeshift bed and looked around. He was still in the same room. His shoulder still hurt. There was still no one else there. What little he could see of the hallway beyond the gate and the upper room through which he fell both seemed empty. Impossible. How...?

It wasn't long after waking that his usual daily needs asserted themselves: he was hungry, thirsty, and needed to relieve his bladder. Now, what to do about--

Oh, no.

Was that their plan? Had they simply decided it easier to leave him to die? Quickly growing horror accompanied his terrible realization. They clearly didn't need guards to ensure that he was unable to escape this room. It stood to reason that they didn't need anyone with a weapon to execute him, either. They could simply leave him here to starve!

He also had another theory, but it wasn't any more comforting than the first. He hadn't seen anyone before falling into this room, and no one had come for him afterward. Was this area simply abandoned? Either way, his fate remained equally cruel; whether or not a presence besides his own existed here failed to change the fact that no food would be to be brought to him.

No, no, no! It wasn't supposed to end like this! He had been doing so well! He had been so elusive, not a soul in sight, only to make one stupid misstep on the upper floor....

A wave of despair washed over him, but quickly subsided. No, he would not simply resign himself to a slow death. He would live...somehow. Step one was to survey his surroundings. The sense of urgency that accompanied his first few moments here had passed, and he now had time to take a more careful look around the room for something, anything that could help him.

It was clearly a section of cave carved into a room. The walls were solid rock, with random crystals embedded into them that cast a strange greenish glow. That explained how he had light in here. He pushed the walls in a few places, as if looking for the loose stone that would open the secret passage, but found nothing. The floor was some sort of semi-soft, tightly packed dirt, solid enough to walk on, yet he could dig about a foot down if he tried. Any brief hope of being able to dig his way out died when he hit some sort of unyielding rock layer below that. Well, at least he could bury his waste. Whether he could eventually escape or not, he refused to spend his days here living in his own filth.

The ceiling appeared to consist of the same kind of rock as the walls, only much smoother. He could probably climb the walls using those protruding crystals, but the ceiling was simply too smooth and the hole in the center too far away--reaching it would be completely impossible. He doubted he could stack anything to climb his way out, either; the ceiling was much too high, and that pile of blankets appeared to be the only thing in the room not attached to the walls or floor.

He had already tried to force his way through the gate to disastrous results, and knew not to try that again. His shoulder was still too sore to attempt to lift it again. The gate appeared to rest on a naturally solid portion of ground, as he found digging near it impossible, even though he could do it elsewhere. Still no way to get through there, then.

Aside from random protrusions here and there along the floor that could maybe be used as makeshift chairs, the only other noteworthy feature of the room was that pool.

The pool was filled with a green-tinted liquid. He cautiously dipped a finger in. It was lukewarm, and if it was acidic, it was at least weak enough to not put him in immediate pain from that test alone. Its consistency was noticeably thick, despite appearances--it almost looked like green water, but the thicker, almost gooey feel made it obvious that it wasn't. That alone made him wary of it. While it was deeper than he was tall, it was still shallow enough that he could see the bottom, and sadly, the walls appeared to be solid all the way down.

No way out through the pool, no way to reach the hole in the ceiling, and the gate was simply impassable. Solid rock walls everywhere else. No way out. This really was it.

Despair claiming him once again, he shuffled to the corner of the room, clawed as deeply into the ground as he could before hitting the impassably hard layer beneath, and relieved himself. He wasn't looking forward to having to dig a pit every time he required a restroom, but it was better than the alternative. He had no way of addressing his growing hunger, so he crawled back into the improvised bed, hoping to simply sleep through it. Not that he expected the situation to be any better when he awoke, but if there were any better ideas, he was simply too depressed about his fate to think of them now.

---

He awoke to find himself in the same room again, with the same utter lack of anyone anywhere to be seen. This place had to have been abandoned. They would have been here by now, otherwise. His shoulder still hurt, but he at least felt rested once more.

It had been...what...three days now? No...he held his head in his hands, the attempt at analyzing how long he had been here giving him a sudden headache. He had fallen asleep and awoken again in this room three times, but he was just as unable as ever to discover a way to tell for how long he had been asleep. The first time seemed like a sort of sudden crash into a quick nap, while the second and third felt more full, somehow. Two and a half days, perhaps? Of course, that ignored the fact that he wasn't staying awake for anything close to a full day between each sleep. After all, in a room this completely empty, sleep was his only means of passing the time. Thus, it was probably less than two days, total, but it really was futile to attempt to speculate beyond that.

He was literally starving, but even greater than his hunger was his thirst. He had heard that one can survive for weeks without food, but only a few days at most without water. Up until this point, he had been fortunate enough never to need to personally verify that, but he certainly believed it now.

Naturally, there was no food or water anywhere to be had. Whether this area had been abandoned or they were simply waiting for him to die, no one had come to feed him since he had been captured. Escape was impossible. What could he do?

He looked toward the pool warily. Maybe....

No. Whatever was in the pool, it was not water. He had established that yesterday...yesterday? Before the last time he had fallen asleep, anyway. He had established its danger, or at least its dubiousness, when he touched it and felt how thick it was, and a part of him still expected his hand to fall off at any moment from having done so.

Of course, any ill effects had yet to actually manifest themselves. He still felt fine, with the exception of his extreme hunger and even more extreme thirst. Besides, what was the worst it could do? Kill him? He was doomed anyway.

Fine. If it was that or thirst to death.... He sighed as he approached the pool and lowered a single cupped hand into it. Marveling to himself at the things one will do in the face of death, he drew his hand up again, once again surprised at the liquid's consistency. While it was far from solid, it was, at the very least, significantly thicker than true water. He found himself completely at a loss to describe or identify exactly what it was.

Then again, he wasn't here to philosophize. He was here to not thirst to death. He drank.

To his surprise, the first thing he noticed was how cool the liquid felt as he consumed it. He didn't notice any significant temperature difference when he held it in his hand, but his mouth and throat felt...not cold, but...well, he couldn't quite get a handle on what he felt, but it was a pleasant sensation. Refreshing? It made the rest of the room around him feel almost uncomfortably warm by contrast, even though he had felt fine just moments before.

Any feelings of thirst he had were immediately dispelled by the cool, refreshing sensation he now felt. To his great surprise, it also seemed to sate his hunger, though not directly. It wasn't as though the hunger was replaced with fullness, or that the thirst was replaced with feeling quenched. It was more that consuming the liquid filled him with a sort of sated contentment for having the liquid itself, and this feeling somehow overrode the hunger and thirst entirely. A large part of him was unnerved by this. The rest of him wanted to simply accept and enjoy it.

He at least retained enough of his wits to not want to drink any more of a mysterious, unidentified liquid than absolutely necessary. If that one small portion was enough to somehow replace his hunger and thirst entirely with this strange contentment, then he had no reason to have any more. A part of him wanted to keep drinking, and he noted a small sense of disappointment the moment he decided not to, but he was able to dismiss it. There was no reason to be greedy, after all, and every reason to be as prudent and cautious as he could manage.

He spent the next short while pacing around the room, trying to evaluate his physical condition over time. He hadn't dropped dead yet, at least. Actually, he felt fine, especially since the hunger and thirst had left him. Even his shoulder felt better. He gave a small attempt at lifting the gate, on the off chance that the strangely good feeling was a hint that he had somehow acquired new-found strength with which he could escape. No such luck, but he was too generally content to be disappointed by his continued confinement. Strangely, he actually found himself liking this. In fact....

No. Stop that. He wasn't going to have any more. He didn't need any more, and it was still a potentially bad idea to have any more than he needed before he even knew what it really was.

He should rest. Not because he was tired or because he had been up for particularly long--this had been his shortest "day" yet, in fact--but because it would help take his mind off of that strange liquid and its effects on him, and simply because there was nothing else to do. His choices in this room were limited to eating and sleeping, and without food, he still couldn't eat. So he slept.

---

That no one came for him while he slept surprised him less and less as time wore on. Once again, he was allowed to slowly return to awareness at his own pace, stretching and sprawling beneath the blankets before he finally opened his eyes. He may as well take his time to fully wake up--it certainly wasn't as though he were in any sort of hurry or had anywhere in particular to be.

He felt strangely at peace, given his predicament. He also felt refreshed, as though he had somehow managed to sleep exceptionally well, despite still being clothed...oh! His clothing! Of course! He hadn't once removed it since he first became trapped, not even to sleep. At least he had attempt this mission barefoot for the added nimbleness. Some help that was, but it at least spared him from needing to deal with cumbersome or unhygienic footwear this whole time. However, he did still have a shirt, pants, and basic protective gear, of which he grew increasingly eager to be free. He had worn them this long out of a paranoid desire to be prepared should they ever come for him, but now that it grew increasingly clear that they were never going to, he had little reason to keep them. The protective gear aside, even modesty from his basic clothing seemed less relevant now--exactly who else was there to take issue with his nudity?

Deciding that remaining as thoroughly trapped as ever meant he may as well make himself comfortable, he discarded all of his clothing and equipment, leaving everything in a distant corner of the room. Oh, that was so much better already! As strangely refreshed as he felt now, he just knew he would sleep even better the next time he attempted it. A part of him wanted to return to the bed and try it now, but more so than that, he found himself wanting to drink from the pool again.

He turned and looked at the pool, surprised by the suddenness with which that craving had hit him. Upon further evaluation, he was certainly hungry and thirsty once more, but he was sure that he had specifically wanted more of that liquid--as though that was a distinct craving in and of itself--before thinking of it as a way to sate the hunger or thirst. This worried him. He was intelligent enough not to consume a completely unknown substance under normal circumstances, and the fact that he was already starting to develop cravings for it only made him trust it that much less. In his current position, though, it wasn't as though having nothing at all could be any healthier. He may as well....

As soon as he decided he would do it, a brief but noticeable surge of happiness hit him. He enjoyed the thought of what he was about to do. He wasn't particularly sure that that was a good sign.

Cupping both hands together as he knelt beside the pool, he drew significantly more of its liquid than he had previously. His self-restraint wasn't quite as strong as it had been before, and thus, while he may or may not have been able to survive on the same smaller portion as before, he instead consumed the entire collection from both hands almost before he even realized what he had done. That probably wasn't...oh....

Oh.

Oh, yes. That was nice.

Still low to the ground, he scooted backwards, retreating from a kneeling position to sitting, then leaning back until he was lying down, careful to keep his legs bent so as to not accidentally dip them into the pool. Eventually, he turned over and crawled over to the blanket pile. Willing himself to actually move over to it before he could collapse once more seemed significantly harder than it should have been.

The reward was well worth it, though. While the logical side of him insisted that physically moving away from the pool was a precaution to prevent himself from drinking any more than he had to, being able to sprawl on his bed as the effects ran through him only made the experience that much more pleasurable. While the last experience had simply replaced his hunger and thirst with a feeling of contentment and a comparatively mild craving for more, this was more like a wave of pure bliss that completely sated and overrode every other desire he could have possibly had at that moment. He wasn't incapacitated--he had managed to get up and walk over to his bed, at least, and his mental faculties had not in any way deserted him. He was merely so happy to recline and enjoy the effects of the liquid on him that he simply did not want to do anything else.

Now that he was naked, an unexplained and unexpected sense of arousal hit him, catching him by surprise. Where had that come from? Was it just that he felt so good everywhere else, the sensations hit there, as well? Whatever was responsible, he couldn't deny that something was having a noticeable effect on him. His already-full erection was proof enough of that.

Come to think of it, he hadn't done anything to address that particular need at all since he had first fallen in here. Of course, that was because he was so preoccupied with his own survival that that particular need hadn't arisen before. Here it was now, though. He reached a hand down....

No. It would undoubtedly feel exquisite, and a large part of him clearly craved it just as it had craved more of that liquid, but that was precisely why he tried so hard not to give in. Still unsure of what was happening to him, he had to draw the line somewhere. Perhaps later...for now, he was unwilling to surrender himself to something without knowing what was even happening to him.

After simply reclining and enjoying the sensations for a few more minutes, he reluctantly got up, deciding to walk around the room a few times. It wasn't that he needed to clear his head, as he still seemed to retain most of his clarity anyway. It was more that he didn't want to give into his new-found cravings just yet, and had very little else to do aside from walking around and pondering his situation.

It only occurred to him now, however much later, that he hadn't once considered the possibility of escaping today. He had used the fact that he was trapped as justification to allow himself a drink from the pool earlier, but he never thought of actually challenging the situation, of wanting to try to climb to the hole or open the gate. Of course, he was still completely unable to do either. Escape was still completely impossible. He tried to rationalize it as simply not having a reason to bemoan a situation beyond his control--he still couldn't escape, so why depress himself trying? However, it was less that he wanted to but couldn't, and more that he almost didn't even seem to want to anymore.

He wasn't paying particularly close attention to how long he had been wandering around the room aimlessly, but it did seem to help. His erection had died down again, at the very least. He should probably go back to sleep before it came back, or before he wanted to drink from the pool again.

---

He grew more and more used to the thought of no one coming for him in his sleep, taking the idea of uninterrupted rest completely for granted now. He was right about how much better and more restful it had been without his clothing. He sprawled as he slowly awoke, once again taking his time stumbling to awareness and very slowly gathering the will to remove himself from the makeshift bed. Any semblance of nimbleness, keen senses, or light sleeping had been completely obliterated by this point. He was growing too lazy to worry about how lazy he had become.

While he couldn't actually remember any details or anything beyond simple feelings and suggestions, he was dimly aware that he must have experienced some particularly wild dreams while he slept. They must have been sexy, somehow, as he already had a full erection before even waking up, and his libido was much more active than he would have expected.

He was also thirsty, and he knew what that meant.

He looked at the pool nervously, and tried to assess his own current mental state. The events of the previous...day? were pleasurable at the time, but slightly too intense for his comfort in hindsight, the likely result of him having taken too much of the liquid before he fully understood its effects. He hoped that he had grown slightly more used to it since then. Even if he hadn't, he vowed to exercise more discipline this time. Yes, today would be better.

He approached the pool, knelt beside it, and drank. As he had expected, the blissful sensation from drinking one small handful from a single hand was noticeable and powerful, but not as completely overwhelming as his previous overindulgence had been.

He was still erect before he drank, having opted not to take care of that particular need first, and he quickly regretted that decision. The effects of the liquid somehow amplified his lust, turning a subtle, back-of-his-mind craving into a completely overpowering need. Well, not quite overpowering. He could still resist it.

But why?

He blinked. A voice? He looked around. No one was there. A voice in his head? Or was that his own thought? Had he simply managed to startle himself with how sudden and out of nowhere it was?

Why fight it?

He blinked again. It wasn't an external presence or a voice in his head. That was his own thought, though it might have been amplified somehow by the effects of the liquid. Such strange and sudden clarity given to a thought specifically devoted to arguing with himself...it was as though his cravings, the thoughts he had been trying to keep suppressed, had suddenly been given a clear and crystallized voice. Which was quite alarming, considering he hadn't had that much of the liquid this time.

He should have more.

Wait, what? No, he shouldn't. He had no idea how safe it was, and he could already tell it was having bizarre effects on him. He only drank as much as he did because it was literally either that or thirst to death, and even this much was making him slower, less alert, less on his guard. He had to limit himself to what he needed to survive, and no more. He couldn't afford to lower his guard any further than it already had been.

Why couldn't he?

Well, because... because...! Admittedly, his cravings, or temptations, or bad side, or whatever it was that was making him doubt himself like this had a point. No one would be coming for him. He was already naked. It wasn't as though he had any particular reason he still needed to maintain his vigilance.

So have some more.

No. No, he couldn't. As much as he wanted to, and while he reluctantly admitted that he had no particular reason not to, he was simply too afraid of what would happen. Every time he had more of the liquid, the cravings increased, and he seemed to be growing more aroused. It was all troubling to him. He wasn't about to lose his mind and become some lust-driven...thing!

But what would be wrong with that?

Well, he....

No one would ever come for him. He was left here to die anyway. What was he afraid of? What could require him to still be on guard? No need to deny what he clearly wanted out of sheer paranoia.

He sighed. He had no good answer to that. Fine, then. He resigned himself to having another handful of the liquid if it would satisfy his suspiciously insistent craving, even though he knew it wouldn't. What it did do, however, was reward him with another euphoric rush and another throb from his still-full erection. Ooh, yesss....

Yes, that was good. As worried as he was, he still had to admit that it was good. And sure enough, he still found himself wanting more.

This time, he did not hesitate. After all, he had already fought with himself and lost, and the last few moments had not given him any new angles with which to raise another objection. Why have the same losing argument again?

With the second helping of the liquid encouraging him, his erection would no longer be denied. The feeling was noticeable but manageable before, but now it really was overpowering. He had to tend to his arousal. Now.

He openly moaned as he started to frantically stroke himself. He would normally try to be discreet, but he was much too desperate, and who would hear him in this place, anyway? It was just what he had needed. He had been so tightly-wound and so pent up since he had arrived here. He needed release.

While one hand flew up and down his shaft, the other moved toward the pool, and he absentmindedly had another helping of liquid before he was even fully aware of what he was doing. No longer content with amplifying his cravings, it was now targeting his instincts. While he was still in control of his own body, he found that he was making motions to keep drinking almost by default, and had to actively concentrate on making himself stop before he would actually stop, only for him to subconsciously start again as soon as he ceased paying attention.

Of course, actively focusing on that meant he would have to stop stroking. That was simply unacceptable, especially with the surge of sensations he now felt from the latest helping of liquid. No, he was beyond controlling himself at this point. He had to see this through to its conclusion. He had to keep going, and if that meant subconsciously continuing to drink from the pool, then so be it.

He moaned again as he resumed his stroking, as if the very decision to give in were pleasurable to him, like finally setting down a burden that he had been carrying for so long. While his mouth was open from the moan, another handful of liquid filled it, and then another. The feelings from that only made him that much more eager to continue, feeding themselves into a sort of repeating spiral of pure bliss.

He was dimly aware of a feeling of some sort of change inside him. He couldn't quite figure out what was happening, but he felt more...flexible? No, he'd worry about that later. This was much too important to stop and examine himself.

The next handful, rather than going to his mouth as the others had, went directly to his length, rubbing the liquid over his shaft like a thick lubricant. He wasn't sure whether that was fully his idea or whether he was being subconsciously guided somehow, but he didn't care. The sensation was almost enough to make him climax on the spot. The only reason he held back was that he paradoxically wanted to keep going--he now found himself torn between wanting the release of orgasm and never wanting this feeling to end.

There was that sensation inside him again. His entire body now felt cool, like what he felt the very first time he drank from the pool, only more intense and more persistent. He wasn't sure if he was imagining this or not, but he almost felt like his body had more give to it as well--when he pulled upward with his hand as part of his furious stroking, it was almost as though he was actually stretching his shaft, only for it to return to its normal size and position again on the down-stroke. Or perhaps he was simply that lost in the fantasies. No matter! This had to conclude. He had to have his release. Had to! Whatever may or may not be happening to his body, so be it!

Scooping more and more handfuls of liquid almost as quickly as he was stroking, alternating between drinking and applying them to his shaft, all he could do was keep going. He had long since lost track of time and lost count of how many handfuls of liquid he had taken. He neither knew nor cared about much of anything except for the pleasure. Almost... he just had to... to....

With another moan, by far his loudest yet, his climax finally arrived. He had allowed himself to slip so far into the sensations that he was now in a pleasure-addled daze, not fully able to comprehend his surroundings or what was happening to him. His climax felt...different than what he was used to, not at all like simply firing a few shots of seed and being done with it. This was much more persistent. He couldn't quite comprehend what was happening to him, except that the sensation lasted far longer than he would have expected.

He started to lose energy and wasn't quite sure why, but didn't particularly care--all that mattered was that he still felt that suspiciously extended climax. He still felt it even as he suddenly found himself exhausted and barely able to keep his eyes open. He still felt it even as he stumbled back to his bed and collapsed, not caring in the slightest how messy he may or may not have been by this point. He still felt it even as he lost consciousness....

---

He awoke from what felt like the heaviest sleep he had ever had in his life, like he had been out for days, perhaps months. That was impossible, of course--it simply felt like it.

No matter. It was finished. He smiled peacefully, contentedly. It was all so clear to him, now. Now that he had finally let it happen, he understood everything. This room was simply a test. The means to escape had been there all along. They had simply been waiting and watching, seeing if he could figure it out or if he would succumb to thirst and hunger first. Thirst and hunger...he vaguely remembered what those felt like. He would certainly not miss them.

Still, no sense keeping them waiting. They had only chosen not come to him because there was never a need to interfere--why come to him when they could just as easily wait for him to come to them? He should go and introduce himself, so that he could start enjoying his new life with them.

He walked toward that stubbornly immovable gate that had been his bane his first day in this room. What a silly approach he had attempted! Now that he had fully given himself to the liquid and let it change him, he simply oozed through the bars, returning to his original shape once safely on the other side. He had to leave his clothing behind before he could do that, of course, but so be it. He didn't need clothing now, anyway.

This was why it was a portcullis and not a solid door. It wouldn't do to let him through to see them before he had been initiated, but now it was easy to use his new form to slide through. It was brilliant, really. By passing through, he proved that he was ready. Any traces of the mindset with which he had originally fallen into that room were gone--why had he ever been afraid of them? Why did he ever want to resist this?--only to give way to more contentment and bliss than he had ever known, and eagerness at the thought of being at their side. He smiled again, and began walking down the hall, away from the room. He could not wait to meet them.