Four years for a degree. Four years in university for a degree. Four years of slogging endlessly, studying in university for a degree. Four years to make a valedectorian; to graduate at the top of cohort in one of the most competitive universities in the world.

Four years for a degree, countless rounds of interviews and months of waiting to finally get a job at one of the world's most prestegious biological research labs, and he was finally here - working six hours overtime to shift test tubes of chemicals from one end of a room to another.

He threw his paper cup across the breakroom, the mediocre instant coffee having long since been finished. The paper cup sailed gracefully across their air and landed in the trashbin with a soft clatter, and he sighed once more. Throwing on his lab coat, he peeled himself off the couch and dragged himself back to the lab.

Wearily, he checked the time on his phone. Four more hours 'till the next working day began. If he could get the last of the samples transferred in an hour, he could get three whole hours of rest on the breakroom couch before he was needed in the lab again.

He scanned his pass at the door and entered the decontamination room before the lab, half-heartedly washing his hands as he gazed at the full set of scrubs, gowns and face-shields he was required to wear with blank eyes. It's just test-tubes, he told himself, you're just moving things in little sealed bottles from one end of the room to another. Nothing an ape couldn't handle.

Looking around for signs of anyone who might berate him for not adehering to proper lab safety protocol and going against his better judgement, he threw on a pair of plastic goggles and wore nothing more than his lab coat into the sealed laboratory to finish the last of his 'work'.

His supervisor had told him nothing more about his current task beyond needing to 'move samples to a temporary location while we replaced the shelves'. Unfortunately, it was a large, almost seemingly-endless shelf filled with rows and rows of test tubes, beakers and containers marked with nothing more than strings of letters and numbers. Even as a chemist and biologist by training, he recognised little of what was in these tubes - understanding in the moment of overtime-induced exhaustion that these were merely the things that were keeping him from a hot shower, a soft bed and a good night's sleep.

He dragged boxes and racks of chemicals across the room, making sure to set them back down in as close to the original order of things as he could on the new shelf. He had in fact, been doing this for most of the night, and at present he was in the midst of going through a few dozen racks of test tubes containing some cream-coloured, viscous white liquid which was labelled nothing more than 'Sample Compound CO2x, Sh.4R-K'.

He yawned, and his eyes watered, blurring his sight. He placed the test tube rack on his table, lifted his goggles and rubbed his eyes - only to be jolted awake by the crash of glass shattering. He froze, looking at where he had left the rack. It wasn't there anymore, but on the floor, the glass tubes shattered and cracked. His heart dropped when he realized he had just split an unknown compound in the lab. As his eyes trailed around the spill site, he realized that worse yet, the substance had splashed everywhere, and that he had even managed to get some of it on his exposed skin. He watched for a moment as some of the substance dribbled down his arm. It wasn't burning, nor did it hurt at the moment, and he hoped that it wasn't anything poisonous as he ran for the sink, flushing his arms under the running water.

Unfortunately, rinsing his exposed arm under the running water didn't seem to do much in washing off the substance - but instead seemed to help cover the rest of his arm in the substance, which seemed to have expanded with the addition of water. Frantically, he tried to wipe it off under the running water with his other hand, but that only seemed to coat it too in a layer of what felt like a thick, slimy, slippery goo. He tried scrubbing his hands, but that only seemed to spread it to his other hand now - covering both hands and one of his arms in the strange substance.

He could feel a trickle of sweat drip down his brow. This was not good. He ran to the other end of the lab, looking for a spill kit, but instead promptly fell over as sensation left his legs. He landed on the floor with a wet smack as his arms hit the ground, and when he turned to look at what was happening to his legs, he screamed.

His legs were bent at unnatural angles - having turned into what looked like sweaty, wet noodles. He tried moving them, but all they seemed to do was wriggle uselessly like a pair of worms.

He needed help. He tried to crawl to the lab phone to call for help, but his slime-covered arms found no purchase against the tiled floors as he gasped uselessly at the floor. All he could do was frantically wriggle himself across the floor, and in the process, found his pants coming off. He turned to look, and could only yell louder as he realized what had happened to his legs. No longer did he have feet at this point, but what his legs looked like were merely a pair of white, slimy tentacles, which were slowly melding into one, singular one. He looked down at his own hands to check them - while they had not befallen the same fate as his legs, he realized that his hands and arms had turned into a creamy, cloudy white colour, still dripping with the strange liquid. His fingers, like his legs, were slowly beginning to stick together with the viscous white liquid coating them, and he watched as five fingers turned into three on each hand.

What's happening to me!?, was the only thought coming to mind at the moment as he looked down with a sense of dread, realizing that the white, gooey substance was spreading not only along his extremities, but along his body and up his neck as well.

He panicked, trying to wipe off as much of the substance off his arms as he could. The creamy, white substance sloughed off his arms in great splashes, but no matter how much he tried, there always seemed to be some, if not more of the stuff oozing down his arms.

He winced. No amount of wiping seemed to make any of the stuff come off now - though in the corner of his mind a quiet voice told him that it probably wasn't the biggest of his concerns at the moment. In fact, what did catch his attention instead, was the smell. The creamy-white goo that was rapidly covering and altering his body bore a familiar, earthy scent. It reminded him of something- though he could not quite put his finger on it.

No - he had more pressing things to concern himself with; namely, what was happening to his body. He needed to get help. He tried to get up once more, this time yelping in surprise as his entire body seemed to lurch off the ground at on his whim. He was confused and surprised at the sudden structure afforded to him when he could barely stand moments ago, but was more horrified than relieved when he looked down and realized that his entire torso had taken on the same, creamy-white hue that afflicted his limbs, or rather - his decreasing number of limbs as he came to realize that his legs had melded into a single, slimy tentacle, which seemed to be travelling up his body as his posture seemed to shift and slowly bend into a rough, S-shape.

I'm turning into a... snake? He thought, looking at his rapidly mutating body. Wait a minute, I can stand! I can move!

Surely enough, with some effort, he was realizing that he could curl and flex this new appendage that his legs and torso had turned into. Unsteadily, at first, but with a bit of effort, he was soon squirming his way across the glass-strewn floor, inch by inch toward the phone. As he did so, he managed to catch a glimpse of his own reflection in one of the glass cabinets across the room. From the neck down - and rapidly going upward - he looked like a snake with arms, covered in the strange-smelling, cream-coloured ooze. As the mutation crept upward in fact, he was made increasingly aware of the scent of this ooze, which seemed to be getting stronger second by second.

It seemed so... familiar. Absent-mindedly, as he started at his changing body, he put a finger in his mouth to taste the goo. It was creamy, salty... musky...? His eyes widened as he spat out what was in his mouth - though it was too late. The gooey, slimy sensation would not leave his mouth, nor would the taste. As he looked in the reflection of the glass cabinet again, he cursed himself for having done so, as his face was rapidly discoulouring to the same creamy-white that made up most of his mutated body now. No matter how much he tried to spit out the goo, it seemed that there seemed to be an almost endless supply of it, and now the smell of the goo was assailing his nostrils.

He moaned - then caught himself at what he believed to be an incorrect response. Was he... feeling aroused...?

He smacked his lips again, tasting nothing but the goo, and then took another deep breath. The scent sent a shiver down the entire length of his body - and he suddenly realized what this goo was.

It was cum. He was turning into... cum?

He looked in the mirror again. His face was rapidly distending into an oblong, oval shape. His ears were melting, sloughing off into more ooze, the same fate befalling his hair while his nose seemed to absorb itself into his face, his nostrils seeming to disappear under the thick coating of goo.

More unnervingly, the flesh of his head was beginning to turn semi-transluscent. He could slowly begin to see his skull and and eyeballs - though those too seemed to be rapidly turning white as they melded with the oblong shape that his head was taking.

He watched in fascination as his features beneath the skin of his head seemed to melt away - either into opaque, off-white matter, or into the semi-transluscent stuff that was coating it. He watched as the last of his eyes disappeared - still being able to see, hear and breathe despite his head turning into a featureless... shape, with nothing more than a mouth, dripping with... cum...

He blinked, or tried to blink - then looked down at his changed body - far more flexible than before. It felt strange to feel himself coiling around himself to get a better look at his body now. He took a deep breath and winced - smelling nothing but the scent of cum - was it even his? A shiver of arousal coursed through his body - a free hand reaching down to where his crotch would have been - and found nothing. He groped at the approximate location of where it was and found no relief for this budding feeling - it simply felt like he was grasping his thigh, or a part of his leg.

The thought of calling for help was rapidly fading as curiosity struck the better of him. He turned his body, its coils rotating him toward the desktop in the lab. He slithered his way over to it and woke the device from its slumber, goo-covered hands punching away at a drowning keyboard as he quickly searched up the test tube rack code he had seen earlier in hopes of finding out what this stuff that had changed him was.

"SEARCH KEYPHRASE: Sample Compound CO2x, Sh.4R-K"

The desktop hummed, coming to life as it pulled data from the company's databases. The search mercifully yielded one result, which he opened with a click of the mouse while his other hand absent-mindedly groped around the rest of his slimy, goo-covered body.

What he found in the search result, was a log entry of the sample compound. He scanned the screen with his non-existent eyes, scrolling through the details of the report, until he stumbled upon what he was looking for.

"Sample compund CO2x, Sh.4R-K was obtained through the ejaculate of the subject of the aforementioned designation. It has been mixed with fertility drug sample 12AJ6 as of [Date Retracted]. For further investigation before lab trials."

He would blink, if he could.

He turned around, and looked at himself in the reflection of the glass cabinet he had used earlier. Staring back at him was... a creature with an oval head, and a long, whiplike body. The smell and taste of cum... it dawned on him as to what he had become.

Not only had he become some sort of giant, mutant sperm creature... but the sperm of... whatever creature they had extracted the sample from. Any trace of his former identity was erased, replaced with a blank, featureless face with a maw, drooling with cum. Featureless. Identityless. One of what was supposed to be millions, toiling away mindlessly to produce offspring. The thought of whether there was any of his own DNA left in him caused a shiver throughout his body - a strangely odd, perverse one at that.

He had essentially turned into the reproductive material of some other creature. There was a chance that there was nothing left of his original DNA. Everything, overwritten and turned into the genetic material of his 'sire'. His fear turned into laughter, then into a perverse shudder as he groped his slimy body with his new, nearly-featureless hands. Of course, such groping yielded no pleasure. He tried, running his body and whiplike tail along its entire length, but nothing seemed to sate the rising desire in him to do... something...

-----

His colleagues filtered in by morning. Predictably, there was chaos at the sight of the ruined lab - broken test tubes and racks, an uncleaned chemical spill, and dried white stuff along the walls... There was a flurry of activity as some donned protective equipment and entered the lab, trying to contain the biohazardous mess he left behind, while others rushed to handle paperwork, run through CCTV footage, and most importantly, find the missing intern.

The first person to find him was another young intern, who happened to follow the trail of fresh, gooey fluids he left in his wake to a half-closed janitor's closet. He had dragged some equipment into the cloest and set up a small, makeshift lab in the closing hours of the night, and it was here that his colleague stumbled upon him in the midst of peering down a microscope while a haphazardly-set centrifuge spun on a shelf nearby. There was a yell of surprise as the colleague regarded the massive, oozing creature in the closet - a yell that was quickly muffled by a slimy hand wrapping around the colleague's mouth moments too late as others began rushing to the closet.

A brief struggle ensued and the young intern broke free of his slimy hold, slamming the door open and stumbling right into the small crowd that was gathering. What was beholden to them was the sight of something that elicited similarly surprised, terrified yells as the young intern stumbled out of the closet - his face dripping with a slimy, musky substance that rapidly seemed to become cloudy, enveloping his head as he tried to wipe it off with equally-slimy, fluid-covered hands.

The rest of the staff watched in horror as the young intern seemed to melt - his features rapidly dissolving into a strange, oblong, oval shape. As he fell over, his screams turning into moans of confusion, his shoes began falling off as his legs began expanding, widening, then bursting through the fabirc of his pants and merging into a singular tail, dripping with just as much of the off-white slime that now seemed to cover his body.

Another creature then burst out of the door - similar in appearance to the rapidly mutating intern, but this one larger, and with a pair of arms that the transforming intern seemed to be missing as he writhed about on the floor helplessly.

For the larger creature, the sight and sensation of the rapidly-mutating intern brought forth a strange, tingling sensation, not-unlike the same feeling of pleasure that he had felt last night. He wanted to say something, to tell them not to panic, to ask for help, but a strange, overwhelming urge to touch someone again took over. He could barely register what he was doing as his arms seemed to move on their own accord, and reached for another of the still-stunned crowd. The contact between his mutated slime and another human elicited a surge of strange, instinctual pleasure as he began reducing them too, to an oversized, squishy, primordial form. It filled him with a body-shuddering pleasure, something that radiated throughout his entire body; not unlike an orgasm.

It felt good - and he wanted more.

He dropped the second transforming human, who was rapidly becoming nothing more than a writhing, oversized sperm cell on the floor, much like the intern, and reached for anyone else who did not have enough sense to run for it. Slimy hands met another person's face, rapidly erasing the features and muffling their scream as they too began transforming.

He relinquished his grip as the rest of the crowd scattered, shuddering in pleasure and taking a moment to bask in the strange, alien sensation of pleasure as three smaller, armless creatures similar to him writhed on the floor, panting out of their strange, mishappen maws and wriggling about with their tails as their only means of propulsion.

As their transformations completed, the pleasurable sensations began to fade, and the former-human stopped for a moment to parse the events that had just unfolded before him. Before him, three former colleagues, now gasping and wriggling on the floor. He had just mutated them into something beyond recognizable, and he himself wasn't sure whether there was a way to reverse the changes. A mixture of emotions washed through him - guilt, pleasure, curiosity and shame, all at once, and somewhere in the back of his mind, new, more feral, alien instincts told him he needed more.

He shook his head, clearing those thoughts from his head. What was he doing!? He needed to find help. For himself, and for his transformed colleagues. He couldn't give in to those instincts again!

Scooping them off the floor, he carried them into the janitor's closet and laid them in a bucket each, and slithered out of the closet. Something told him they'd be fine in there, as long as they were there simmering in their own slime... their slime... He was vaguely aware that they were now essentially lesser copies of him - something he felt on an instinctual level. Just looking at them, he could sense their confusion and disorientiation to their new forms... was this... some sort of telepathic link?

His line of questions were interrupted as thoughts clawed at the corner of his mind to seek out the remaining humans to make more, and how good it would make him feel. He could have an army of his own by the end of a very long, pleasurable hunt, but the still-human parts of his mind rejected the very concept. He needed help. If not for himself, then for the ones he had 'accidentally' turned.

He slithered out of the closet to seek out his former colleagues. No doubt, there would be attempting to seal the lab by now, and he hoped he could at least talk them into getting some help...