And it continues....

An hour later the surgeon and young nurse arrived in his room. Bill was standing by the sink brushing his teeth, the smuggest of smug smiles across his face. The surgeon waited for him to finish and then said that it was time for the grand opening. The nurse gently started to unwrap the bandages and remove the non adherent dressings, finally Bill was able to look.

“Oh sweet holy fuck, oh mother of fucking Jesus, what in the name of Christ have you done?”

“Exactly as you have asked me to do. You wanted option number 7 which is an extension to your penis of seven inches.” said the surgeon smiling;” the operation was a great success!.”

“No, no, no. I asked to have my penis extended to 7 inches, not an extra seven inches, this thing must be 12 fucking inches long, its huge and its not what I wanted. And look at the bloody bruising, fucking look at it, you promised that there would be no bruising and its black from the tip to over half way down. Call this a success, Christ I would hate to see one of your fuck ups!”

“Oh no Mr Bill. The operation was a great success. That is not bruising, not bruising at all. That is merely the length of the donor penis, we had no white penises in the fridge of the 7 inches you requested but I had  brought that magnificent specimen with me from India so I was able to grant your wish and give you the extra seven inches that you were desiring. That is the natural colour of your new penis, well just over half of it anyway. “

“Hang on one minute. Are you saying that not only did you give me a monster cock that I did not want but that over half of it once belonged to someone else? This, this thing was actually someone else’s love hammer. You said that for an extension all I would need was a few injections to the base of my chap and all would then be well. How in the hell have I went from that to having some dead mans knob sewn onto the top of mine, and will the bloody thing work? Oh Christ I must be fucking dreaming.”

“And what a beautiful dream Mr Bill. You have a magnificent two tone member dangling by your knees and rest assured that no one died so that you could have such a prize sausage hanging there.”

“Of course some poor bastard died, how else could you get a live fucking penis? I am not stupid you know.”

“Mr Bill, Mr Bill. Do not get upset, I simply bought the penis from its previous owner. He is alive and well I assure you. With the money I paid him he was able to buy a taxi in Calcutta and is now able to support his family without relying on state handouts. So you see, you have actually given this man his dignity back. You have done a great thing.”

“You bought it, removed it and brought it here, I don’t believe I am hearing this, I feel faint I need to lie down.”

With that the doctor and nurse left him alone to ponder his new self. Bill lay back on the bed and tried to make sense of the events of the last few hours. Truth be told, he felt violated, dirty and unclean. However it was more complicated than that. The whole sordid experience was arousing in a perverse way. Yes there was some poor gunga driving around Calcutta in a new taxi without a penis; he had a family and they were now not going to starve, which was good. This man now had a life and a future so some good had surely came of this whole sordid situation. It was time to weigh up the facts. Firstly, he now had an enormous penis and what man in his right mind would not find that immensely satisfying? OK so the damned thing was two tone but it was absolutely enormous, he could now satisfy any woman he chose. The long and the short of it was that he had spent a pile of money and that was that, he was fairly sure that there were no refunds in this establishment. A fait accompli, he had no choice so he all that could be done was be to make the most of the situation, and that meant going home and pleasuring young Rosey without any help from web cams or mobile phones. So resolved he had made up his mind, he would accept his fate and advance with determination towards whatever was thrown at him. It was in this frame of mind that he drifted off into a deep and satisfying sleep.

When he awoke it was dark outside and momentarily he forgot where he was. After a few moments realisation dawned and a glance under the duvet revealed that he was in no dream. Fifteen minutes later, the extended member thoroughly looked at and examined a glance at the bedside clock revealed the lateness of the hour; Rosey expected home over an hour ago. He immediately jumped out of bed, tripped over his new trouser snake, rolled to the floor, face landing in the used bedpan and ingested a large amount of fetid stool which he was sure was not his own. This in turn caused tremendous nausea and stomach cramps. After the vomiting came the realisation of just what had happened. A mouth full of shit was no laughing matter and the pain between his knees was something that he would not wish n his worst enemy, but how many people could say that they tripped over their cock getting out of bed. At this thought uncontrollable laughter overtook every other sense in that poor racked body and so that is how the nurse found him, lying in a pool of shit, piss and vomit; laughing hysterically with a semi lob on. After much coaxing they managed to get him dressed and into the foyer. Still feeling quite giddy he smiled at the receptionist and asked her to call him a taxi. Dry as you like she replied, “you are a taxi” and carried on filing her nails. Unperturbed Bill made his way to the payphone and booked a cab. Whilst waiting for the taxi to arrive it seemed a good idea to try out a few new walks to see how best his stance could emphasise his new enlarged manhood. So hands on hips and pelvis thrust forwards he paced the reception room smiling inanely at the staff and watching his reflection in the windows. This stance however caused some difficulty with walking and so needed adapting. The only way that a decent ergonomic stance and walking pace could be achieved was to thrust the hips forward with each step, a motion that would take some getting used to but most definitely showed his best asset at its maximum potential. It was at this moment that the young girl behind the reception desk pointed out that although she was sure an enormous penis was something to be proud of; perhaps Plymouth was not yet ready for a cock to be used as a scarf. Seeing the sense in this argument Bill unwound his cock from around his neck and stuffed it as best he could into his trousers, the few folds still showing he managed to cover with his tee shirt.

Hank however was having a troubled day of his own.  He hadn’t  spoke to Bill for some time, ten days, and could not recall the last time they both went for a drink together.  He picked up his pint and as he supped, glanced around the familiar surroundings of the Stoke Arms.  Although he hated the term, he begun to reflect on his current life.  He had been in the Navy for six years now, and although he had reached the rate of petty officer, he was feeling as if he hadn’t achieved what he thought was his full potential.  For most of his career he’d been alone.  He had lots of mates and if ever he needed someone to have a drink with his diary was full of folk to call upon.  But now it didn’t seem enough.  As he lit his tab he began to think of his best mate.   He’d known Bill just under a year, yet they got on famously.  They seemed to have the same outlook on life.  But although Bill was four years his junior he seemingly had a sense of maturity about him.  He had made some rash decisions recently, especially over that whore of Beelzebub he was living with.  But he genuinely seemed happy.  He mocked anyone who showed signs of settling down and was always pissed off when Bill now had some stupid excuse or other not to come out for a pint.  Like today for example, a few quiet beers was what he offered but Bill hummed and stuttered some reason for not making it.  He guessed, no knew it was that stuck up bitch that was saying no.  he was thinking Bill was behaving like a big cock.

But was he, he knew his current lifestyle of kebabs and beer couldn’t go on for ever.  He looked in the mirror and saw what potential he could offer a future mate.  His greying hair, ‘slight’ over weight, his unshaven pale complexion, his shirt with only a few stains on it.  He had the gift of the gab and could charm his way into anything but would any self respecting girl want to keep him.  He would have to change.  He ordered another pint, downed it and started to walk home.  He had a plan.  He needed to clean up his act but did not know where to begin. ‘ know your enemy’ he thought.  So he stopped off at the news agents to prepare himself.

“hello mr Hank” said the newsagent.

“alright gunga, how’s it hanging?” said Hank as he walked towards the magazine stand.

“I have your copy of ‘big and horny for you mr Hank”

“not today rogan josh me old mate,  I need some lady mags, what do you suggest?”

“okay mr Hank, I have ‘wet and gushing’, or ‘shaven haven’ is always popular”

“no you don’t understand, I want the kind of mag that a woman would buy”

“oh okay mr Hank how about ‘firm and proud’ or tongue and groove’?”

“no you dozy arab fucker, not porn, I mean women mags that normal girls would buy”

Hank rushed home with his new reading material and read them studiously. ‘ what a load of arse’ he thought when he got half way through.  If it wasn’t about what was happening in the next six months of soap operas it was about some dozy trout who was pissed off with her boyfriend or husband.  He looked at the headline article of one magazine. ‘My Boyfriend Had Sex with His Mate Shouting Orders’.  what a load of bollocks.  However he noticed an article that caught his eye.  Ways to change your man - ten ways to perfection.  He began to take notes. 

It was so easy, women were so one dimensional when it came to blokes that the changes would be easy.  Don’t fart or talk with your mouth full, piece of piss, listen to them, well if they had anything worth saying he surely would.  It was when it came to the topic of grooming that he thought he could make some changes.  washing regularly was a bonus, smelling nice too.  That was straight forward, he would buy some deodorant later.  However when they started talking about excess hair he realised that there was room for improvement.  He only had the one mirror that was inside his wardrobe door.  He took the door off and stood over it, stark naked.  The pubic forest looking up at him came as a surprise.  It would take for ever with his nursing scissors.  He looked to the magazine for a solution, then got dressed and went to the newsagents for some candles.