Meatball

seven

Meatball

It started off innocently enough. Some light mocking about his frail physique and gentle joshing about his special relationship with his right hand (fools, he was left handed). Nothing that Harold couldn’t withstand and hadn’t heard before. It didn’t change much that it was now cyber-bullying rather than in the flesh. Still, when Harold came across a blog dedicated to shredding his character post by post he decided he may have to put an end to it.

A quick search on Google provided him with a website promoting a product promising manhood like a horse and the muscles to match.

Bestial Virility Herbal Medicine For Beta Males will transform you from somebody who would lose a fight against a stick insect or who’s dick might just as well be inverted into a fuck-god-machine capable of benching your new model girlfriend’s parents in their convertible whilst deflowering their daughter by thought alone! Other men’s muscles will visibly shrink and their genitalia will desperately try to detach itself from their now pathetically wretched host and clamber onto you! You’ll be a walking hard on made of other men’s impotent cocks! You just have to try it for one week and it’s guaranteed you’ll get results so good you’ll be the baddest god-man in town! You’ll soon be heading into a fleshly world of sin, seduction and animalistic attraction with women helplessly flocking to you like moths to a bulb. Bitches’ll simply be helpless not to devour you!

Harold ordered the special rate discount limited edition for only today version that was heavily advertised as the deal to end all deals (and make a man of you!). At only seventy five dollars (down from the usual four hundred) it was a bargain fit for a fledgling demi-god such as he. He checked the Harold-hate blog again, just to be sure he hadn’t misread it, and sure enough, there was a new post poking fun of him. He so ugly, pussy shrivels up and retires to Florida whenever he walks by.

Finally, after a torturous week, the parcel arrived. Harold knew it was the real deal because instead of being wrapped in paper it was packed in steaks. He hungrily tore them away to reveal an object that looked suspiciously like a pink dildo and an instruction leaflet.

Congratulations on an outstanding decision punk. Yeah, it’s a dildo*. You shove it up your ass and let it fuck you good so it ejaculates the herbal remedy into you and you feel the results straight away. It may seem fucked up, but try it. You won’t be disappointed.

* In the event that you are unsatisfied with the size of the delivery device you can return it (unused!) and we’ll replace it with one of a more… suitable size

** You can eat the steaks

Taken aback by the tone as much as the information momentarily, Harold weighed the pros and cons of the situation. He could become a muscle bound hero that gets to fuck women and fuck men up. If it works. If it doesn’t work it could do no more harm to what people thought of him anyway to shove a dildo up his ass. Let them call him gay or ridicule him, speculating that was the only way he could get a fuck. There was no down side as far as he could see.

So, without further ado, he unzipped his pants, removed his underwear and looked at the glistening monster, all of twelve inches (the standard “large cock” size in the industry) and as thick as his neck. A pearl of clear liquid had formed at the tip and slowly ran down the length of the beast. It was slippery to the touch. Harold gulped, took aim, and lowered himself onto it. He started to move up and down the greased pole and to his surprise it felt good. Then the thing started to move of its own accord. It thrust forward, tipping Harold onto his hands and knees and continued to punch away at his insides. His starfish asshole puckered every time it withdrew, and he felt it pulsating as it re-entered, pushing itself through his sphincter. Finally it shuddered violently and Harold felt litre upon litre of fluid flush through his organs. Fluid that emasculated him at the same time as filling him with a surge of masculine energy. The spent dildo slithered out of him and fell to the floor, where it lay like a used condom, shrivelled and guilty.

So much raw potential. He felt it well up inside him. His neck grew powerful, his face chiselled, instantly framed by a dashing beard, his muscles bulked and ripped. He felt fantastic. Bitches would soon be screaming his name in ecstasy. But his name… He decided he would no longer be called Harold. Harold was the loser that spent his life getting kicked. No, he was a fucking legend now. A magnificent specimen, and he needed a name to match. Chuck Maverick. Stallion. Animalistic lover of all women. His cock and balls thudded like a hammer onto the floor.

Suddenly he felt all loose and floppy and collapsed. He couldn’t help but roll onto his back as his belly bulged. His arms soon disappeared into the growing mass. He tried desperately to stand but his legs turned to minced meat and gristle. His long trunk of a cock became covered by rolls of meat which soon merged with his legs. Only his head popping out the top remained human looking. Alarmed, he rolled over to the door way. He was too round to fit through the frame. This was it, he thought, humiliated throughout his life for being skinny, he’d tried to fix it, to redress the balance, and for his troubles he was to die a meatball. He had been a fool to think he could ever have become Chuck Maverick. Stallion. There was to be no animalistic attraction for Harold, no women in heat clawing to get a go on his over sized dong. The ladies would be even more revolted by him now than they’d ever been.

As he wept alone on the floor, Harold’s pet dog Candy padded into the room. She had been sleeping but awoke at the sound of her master in distress. Harold was nowhere to be seen though. This confused Candy, who could only see and smell the massive ball of meat before her. Well, since nobody was around to tell her no, she thought she may like to taste a little as it looked mightily attractive to her.

As he was devoured by his dog Harold could no longer even cry. He laughed instead, and thought to himself – well at least I attracted one bitch in my life.

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