Biological Immortality WIP - Not in My Predictions

//File Archive:: Video Log Transcript -- DCBMaGAF.PrGF:003

WELL. This certainly wasn't in any of my predictions.

Late last night, while I was soundly asleep, I experienced a series of vivid dreams. They began normally, familiar sequences relating to my time at University. I can't even guess how many times I've dreamt of showing up to my lab period, only to look down and realize I was naked. Only this time, things went in a different direction.

Unlike my usual anxious stirrings, this time I felt a strong sense of satisfaction at my state of undress. My fellow students were showing curiosity and enthusiasm for my body, a far departure from the mocking laughter my mind usually conjures.

I walked among them, cool air on my skin, and gently guided their hands to touch me. I lost myself among their stroking fingers, the kisses and suckles of their questing mouths. The carnal pleasures blurred together into a hazy wash in the way dreams do. But before long I realized: in all this ecstasy of sexual congress, I was the one doing the thrusting. The peculiarity of it took a moment to pierce the rosy fog surrounding my mind. I paused, and looked down. In place of my previous anatomy, I was sliding into my classmate with an enormous throbbing cock.

I awoke with a start. My covers were soaked with sweat. I could still feel echoes of arousal, waves of sensation vibrating through my body. I wiped the sleep from my eyes, and then switched on my bedside lamp.

And there it was. Bulging up the covers over my hips, pulsating faintly with heat. My hands shook as I gently tugged the covers down, and I gasped involuntarily as the cloth brushed against my head. It was like an electric shock. Pulling free from its restraints, my penis sprung upward and swayed gently from side to side.

Hesitantly, I wrapped my fingers around it. There was no denying it. This was VERY real. The bulging flesh grew more rigid under my touch, and I was overwhelmed by the instinct to stroke it. To feel more, to lean in and complete what my sleeping mind had begun. Distantly I thought about how reckless I was being, how I should bring this to my lab team for immediate examination before anything else happened. But those thoughts felt quiet in my mind while I masturbated in a frenzy, thrusting my hips as I heaved shuddering breaths through my teeth.

When I reached climax, something bright happened behind my eyes. The world faded into white, and my ears roared with a sound like the ocean. When my perception gradually returned, I was sprawled back on my bed. I could see streams of fluid arcing out from my tip, streaking over me and soaking into the sheets. Slowly, the twitching wracking my body abated, and my new appendage slackened enough to rest gently against my stomach.

My team is buzzing with hypotheses for why this has happened. The most promising explanation, in my view anyway, is a phenomenon called Galtian Self Image Enforcement. It's an obscure term, named for a scientist that theorized that one's subconscious self-image can have powerful influences on processes that transform one's body. It's been so long that I've mostly forgotten, but when I was young I did have occasional fantasies akin to this. Those were different times, and I remember suppressing these improper thoughts for the flights of fancy they were. Clearly though, my mind has not forgotten that sense of longing.

If I was still that young woman, I would be mortified at this. But now… I don't know. When I see myself in the mirror, when I feel the bulge of my cock against my skirt… I'm taken by a sense of euphoria. It feels right in a way I never knew I felt wrong.

Against the board's strongly worded suggestions, I've decided that the experiment will continue.