Awakened in Onahole Ecstasy

It's about awakening while using an onahole. +++ This is an R-19 chapter without actual sex. It includes the protagonist using an onahole + story elements.

Since I'd selected the no-box option when ordering from the site, I could see the onahole right away as soon as I tore open the packaging. It was called R-19, named that way because its total length was 19cm. The internal length was about 17.5cm, and that's what I'd based my choice on. They say matching the internal length to your own dick size is a key factor for stimulation, and in my opinion, mine was on the bigger side, so there weren't many options available on the site I was using.

Suddenly, I recalled showering at the training camp when a fellow recruit said to me, "Dude, why the hell is something that huge just dangling there uselessly?" He was jealous, of course. But I was even more envious of him. What good is size if you can't use it? Boo-hoo. We'd gotten close during training and ended up sharing all sorts of stories, one of which was about onaholes.

"Dude, it's seriously amazing. You gotta try it. Why else would I keep using it even with a girlfriend waiting for me till discharge?"

Back then, I couldn't understand why anyone would buy and use something like that. I swore I'd never touch one—said I'd find a girlfriend on my first leave and finally get laid. But... ta-da! Turns out there's no such thing as "never."

Jeon So-young flashed through my mind for a second, nearly making me sigh, but I shook it off. I fired up a video from my secret collection folder on the hard drive, got everything ready, squeezed in the medium-viscosity lube I'd bought along with it, and finally tried out the onahole I'd been anticipating.

"Oh... Ooh...!"

I had no idea how it compared to a real woman's pussy or which was better, but one thing was clear: this was modern civilization's artificial succubus. And just like that, I dove headfirst into my first masturbation session in three years.

At the same moment, something unknowable beyond Han Yeoul's perception began to interfere.

Lost in the throes of masturbation, Han Yeoul remained oblivious as the most pivotal event of his life began to unfold.

**

Day 7 since returning home.

"Hah... hah..."

My throat was parched. I scanned around for water, and through a gap in the curtain-covered window, I saw sunlight. The sun was rising. The room was littered with all sorts of onaholes, reeking of stale semen. I'd jerked off all night again.

The first night I used the onahole, I discovered I could go five rounds. It was a whole new world. I immediately ordered every other onahole from the site. Even if the internal lengths didn't match perfectly, I bought them all and tried every ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one. By the end of the week, I hadn't left the house once—just nonstop masturbation.

It felt great. So great it made those three years of blue balls feel like a cosmic injustice. But then, something felt off. Why am I jerking off like a maniac? No matter how pent-up I was, this wasn't normal. Skipping meals for days to just masturbate? That wasn't sane. It felt like I was possessed.

But my hands betrayed me again, queuing up a new video, lubing a fresh onahole, and putting it to its intended use.

Squelch-squelch— squelch— shudder— splurt— squeak—

"Ngh... Urk..."

My balls ached like they were about to burst. Barely any cum came out—I couldn't even tell if it did. This is bad. I gotta stop. But my hands wouldn't listen. Fear started to creep in. What's happening to me? If I kept this up and died mid-stroke, it'd be front-page news: [25-Year-Old Man Found Dead from Onahole Overuse]. My precious secret stash would get leaked, preserved online forever for the world to mock.

"D-Damn it... Can't let that happen... Ngh...!"

I fought desperately to regain control, but it was futile—another load dedicated to the onahole. Only one unused onahole left now. My hands, ignoring my will, mechanically prepped it like a machine.

"Urgh... I'm seriously... gonna die..."

I barely managed to sip some water to hold on, but I was losing more fluids than I took in. My mouth was desert-dry; my voice was a rasp. And amid it all, the pleasure from my dick was crystal clear, amplifying the torment. Pleasure and pain intertwined, flashing white-hot with every forced ejaculation as my whole body cramped.

I could feel the faint ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mana inside me depleting. It was only level 1, but without it, I'd have died ages ago. But even that was reaching its limit. If this continued, it wouldn't just drain my mana—it'd shatter the vessel holding it.

Yet as my body hurtled toward the irreversible point of no return, the intensifying pleasure kept me from even blacking out.

"Urk... Cumming..."

My balls squeezed out one final spurt. The amount was shockingly generous, but then my vision went pure white.

Crack—

Ah...

The mana vessel I'd barely held together finally shattered. Whether from exhaustion or mana backlash frying my insides, death was certain now. With that realization, tension snapped, and my consciousness faded.

In the whitening blur of my vision, something flickered into view. Then Han Yeoul's awareness plunged into deep sleep.

Immediately after, in the space where the unconscious Han Yeoul lay, a power bridging dimensions opened.

Hummm—

The will of a god residing in the Tower manifested in a random Earthling's bedroom. Wills of various colors gathered in Han Yeoul's room, gazing at his unconscious form and conversing.

None of the descended wills were eager, but like servants obeying a command, they grumbled once and proceeded. The power of the three wills enveloped Han Yeoul's body.

Unconscious, Han Yeoul couldn't see the messages, but the three wills' power methodically reshaped his body, vessel, and mind according to fixed laws. Intentionally weakened to the point of blackout, he remained utterly unaware as everything transformed.

**

I had a dream. A dream from when my parents were still alive. Back when I was a clueless ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠kid who never imagined I'd lose them and be drafted into the military by force, I was throwing a tantrum in the car on a family trip. Not even a real argument—just me whining one-sidedly. Not knowing it was the last time, there I was, yelling at them.

You idiot. Don't do that. Please.

That was my final glimpse of my living parents' faces. They smiled and said,

"Yeoul, I understand how you feel, but don't give up on life. Not awakening mana doesn't mean your life has no value. Everyone has their own path, and mana just wasn't yours. Look at the bigger picture. Even without mana, your possibilities are endless."

Those were the last words from my parents that I remember.

My vision snapped to black. Our family car entered the tunnel. It sped into the darkness, unaware it was the jaws of death.

Then, black feathers scattered across my view. A massive impact pierced my body. The world shook. Ringing filled my ears; I couldn't tell what I was seeing or hearing. My vision flooded red. Hot liquid trickled down, carrying a foul stench. Acrid smoke roused my mind. My body wouldn't move. Vision warped, shapes indistinguishable. The dream fragmented. Crow, parents, corpses, blood. Black smoke. A gigantic eye staring at me. And I... I...

I woke from the dream.

"Hah, hah..."

The nightmare I'd not had in ages throbbed in my skull. I'd thought I'd overcome the trauma since it hadn't recurred lately, but apparently not. My limbs still trembled. On the day of the accident that killed my parents, everyone in the tunnel vanished, leaving only bloodstains—everyone except me.

The government sent high-rank awakeners to investigate, but all they found was that every object's memories at the scene had been erased. No clue who did it—was it human? A monster escaped from a dungeon? I was the sole survivor and witness, but even my memories were blank. The only discovery was that the process of probing my memories had awakened a faint latent mana affinity in me.

As those ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thoughts flowed, the final moments before blacking out resurfaced.