Wyatt’s hobby, studying the obscure and esoteric corners of near-forgotten history, is beginning to bear him fruit. He’s found an ancient well outside an abandoned village, and he’s about to make a wish…

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This was it.

Wyatt had done all his research. He’d looked into every single folk tale, investigated every single local story, poured over cloth maps and satellite images, spent long hours into the night cross-checking his references and sifting out the shards of truth from the scree it was buried in. He’d made a handful of excursions out into Appalachia, uncovering centuries-old journals and manuscripts from abandoned villages and neglected cabins.

Today’s trip represented the cumulation of his years of research. Finding the right forest-covered mountainside settlement, gathering enough gold together to make a proper gold coin, carving it with the right symbols on the edge and chanting the right words under his breath as he engraved the icons.

When all his work was done, he planned a weekend and struck out for the forgotten city, crossing mountains braving the unpaved, unmaintained roads as he followed his sketched maps. When he found it, he left his car and followed the cryptic instructions to follow the long-overgrown trails.

Not thirty minutes later, Wyatt stepped into a clearing in the forest. There, at the center, sat a weathered, moss-covered well. The wooden posts had long since rotted away and the last rusted remnants of what must have been a bucket stained the old gray stones. Wyatt reached into his pocket and produced the meticulously worked coin, the gold feeling unnaturally warm against his skin.

His pulse hammered in his ear as he approached the well. As he readied the coin, he reminded himself of the final important rules: clear the mind, toss the coin, and bring the wish to mind. He’d spent countless hours wording and re-wording his theoretical wishes, so that whichever was taken, he’d be sure they wouldn’t be misconstrued or warped.

He let out his breath as the coin balanced on his fingers, ready to fly.

Three.

Two.

One.

==

Fuck! Fucking goddamn shit! In a panic, Wyatt leaned forward, looking down the well. Far below, the surface of the water rippled in fantastic patterns. His gold coin was long gone.

Wyatt let out an angry, frustrated grunt as he ran a hand through his hair. Of all the mistakes he could have made, how did this happen? All the work he’d done, all the contingencies he’d prepared, all the mental training to make sure this exact thing didn’t happen!

He spared one last glance down the well before, perhaps hoping to see the coin sitting within reach, ready to let him make another wish. Thoroughly disappointed in himself, he turned back to return to his car.

Of all the wishes he could have made. To find someone he’d love and who would return her love, to become fabulously wealthy to no one else’s detriment, to undo a tragic and untimely death and restore a childhood friend to life by undoing history… God, he would have been happy with any of those wishes and several more besides. But what did he wish for?

I wish I had a bigger dick.

He could have had qualifiers! He could have specified how much bigger, longer, or girthier! He could have wished for it to function regardless of the added size! He could have wished that its size would change to fit whatever his partner wanted! Ugh, he could feel the derision from whoever or whatever was granting these wishes. A couple microns is ‘bigger’, right? We can add an inch, but we’ll have to take away your ability to be hard to do so! Oh, how about, you never mentioned when you wanted it to happen, so we’ll schedule that for… three decades down the line!

Goddamn fickle, irrational, uncaring, cheating–!

Wyatt stopped dead in his tracks. He’d felt… something off, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He stood there for a second, searching around for the offending sensation but finding nothing. The wind whispering through the trees was the most prominent thing he could hear, so that probably ruled out any animals, but–

He felt another twinge and, feeling it on his groin, turned his head to see what it was. Scanning his package, he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. It felt a little different- it wasn’t getting hard, but… did it look bigger to him or…? Considering that there was no one for miles around, he reached down and pulled the waistband of his pants and underwear forward.

Yep, that was definitely his dick and balls down there. Nothing looked immediately off about them- that ruled out a few different corrupted interpretations of his wish, but that still raised the question about what he felt and was feeling off.

He had his question answered within two seconds when he saw his package expand. It wasn’t quick, it wasn’t much, but it all just… grew bigger. The soft skin pushed out in every direction, mostly out and against the fabric but also up and into the air. Part of him immediately tried to dismiss the sight as a building erection, but that explained neither how his balls had swollen up nor the brief spike of arousal shooting up his spine. Besides, that completely ignored the most damning evidence: that twinge that he felt beneath the belt became more intense as everything grew.

And that twinge wasn’t going away.

Wyatt let go of his waistbands and tried to calm his wild imagination. He wondered, in that brief moment, what the bounds of this wish would be, what would happen, when it would stop, how frequent his growth was going to be… He cut those thoughts short. With only one pulse (or was it two or three?) of growth under his belt, he was liable to make undue assumptions. All things considered, that wish (if it was the reason behind this) was already made. Best he could do was wait it out; it wasn’t like he had a second coin with him.

He felt the twinge grow stronger and his pants get that much tighter. Perhaps this was a problem that could be waited out when he was closer to his car.

==

Re-tracing his path back through the woods proved slightly more difficult than the journey up to the well. The landmarks and scenery were fresh in his mind, but the constant mental interruptions made things more difficult. Every few minutes, he felt the surge in energy below the belt grow and subside. Every time, it felt stronger. Every time, it lasted slightly longer and left him slightly harder. Every time, he felt more uncomfortable straining against the fabric of his underwear.

He checked every so often, sparing the briefest of glances. A noticeable bulge had formed in his pants, growing in prominence and eventually beginning to stretch his waistband away from his body. His balls, which he had increasingly realized rubbed hot against his thighs, had pulled some of the fabric out of the way and were now rubbing skin on skin against him. As the seventh wave began, he stopped and reached into his pants, fishing his cock out into the air. With any luck, it would give him some room to breathe and a little more time before he had to come up with another plan.

He grabbed something unexpectedly large, suddenly realizing that his dick was larger around than his hand could reach, if barely. Though mostly soft from his divided attention, he worried about what his erect size would be- he was a grower before, would he still be so now? He swallowed and continued fishing his now hardening cock out from his pants, marveling and fearing each additional inch he extracted.

Letting it drape out over his waistband, it clearly sat longer than his starting five and three-quarter inches; right now, it was just shy of halfway to his knees, if he had to guess. At least this unorthodox decision had the intended effect- the crotch of his pants was less constricting now, though not by much. Wyatt shook his head and continued retracing his steps. No time for hesitating now.

He encountered the next landmarks in quick succession: the Rusting Rock, the Trifurcated Tree… and then the nameless river. The fast, wide river stood an intimidating obstacle. Even when he crossed over the old, fallen tree, he still felt uncomfortable as the river raged below him, a maw of jagged, stony teeth. Peril felt like it was breathing down his neck every step of the way.

Wyatt approached the close end of the tree, breaking off the dead branches before finding his first footholds. He mentally prepared himself for the crossing, realizing he now had a new, unfamiliar weight that would be weighing him forward every step of the way. He’d wished there were some other way to cross, but even the abandoned journals lamented the bridges being lost so long ago.

As ready as he’d ever be to cross in this state, he gingerly stood and held his arms out for balance. Glancing down, he swore under his breath at how far forward his bloated balls reached and how they partially kept him from seeing what was in front of him. He swore much louder with his first step, having underestimated just how much they weighed and unbalanced him as they sloshed to the side. How fucking big are they to do that…?

With all the caution he could muster, he began crossing over the river one step at a time. He fell into a cycle: bring foot forward, counterbalance his junk, feel for a foothold, shift weight forward, repeat. Step by step, Wyatt felt his way across the artificial bridge, his pendulous package leading the way.

Just as he passed the halfway point across the river, cautiously stepping over the knotted remnants of another broken branch, he felt the tingling sensation return to his loins. Reeling from its sudden intensity, he wheeled his arms around to regain his balance. He took the next step forward, a bid to distract himself from the new, unfamiliar heat that was beginning to spread through his over-sized crotch.

This surge in arousal wasn’t like the ones before- Wyatt felt his dick, pulsing to his heartbeat with an urgent need, start to lift and bob in the air to his movements. He began to see it in his peripheral vision, bouncing around like it wanted his attention. He grit his teeth. There was an almost overwhelming desire for him to grab his dick, to lavish it with his touch, to feel and explore all the new flesh and nerve endings that wish had given him. It took every bit of willpower he had to fight back and keep himself hobbling forwards.

His balls weren’t sitting idle. Every other second or so, he felt the fabric of his underwear shift against them, an undeniable signal that they were expanding with relish. If the intensity were anything to go by, it felt like his nuts were outpacing his cock. A churning noise, audible above the roaring river below, made him wonder what they were brewing up and how much they had, considering how restrictive his pants were starting to feel.

He was getting close now, in both meanings of the phrase. He was approaching the other end of the tree, but his arousal was starting to get the better of him now. He could feel his focus slipping away, drawn inextricably towards his enormous cock- which was still growing, something in the back of his thoughts reminded him. It was getting more difficult by the second to ignore that siren call and getting to experiment with his new toy, ignoring the minor issue of falling into the river.

Wyatt felt his foot catch on the dry roots of the tree, breaking some of them off. He’d finally reached the other end, some small part of him realized through a thick haze. He continued to inch forward, some other part of his mind still overwhelmingly cautious with any given movement. He drunkenly staggered through the old roots and onto sturdy ground, then hobbled a few steps forward before slumping against the rough bark of another, thankfully upright tree.

The tingling haze, that overwhelming heat, they consumed his mind and demanded all his attention. In a drunken stupor, he reached his arms forwards, down to his rock-hard dick that throbbed ahead of him and reached that much further with every second. He was too far gone to hear the stitches popping and fabric tearing in his pants, too deep in the ecstasy to realize how close to orgasm he was.

He didn’t even get the chance to touch it.

Electric arcs shot through his mind as he came. His body tensed up as he threw his head back and moaned, utterly lost in pleasure. His balls seized and pulled up to his body, his cock flexed and shot out a heavy rope of cum, then another, then a third. Wyatt rode out the orgasm, too lost from the world to do anything else. Ahead of him, cum splashed in thick waves, saturating the ground and covering the different plants in lines of heavy seed.

He only returned to his senses minutes later on his knees, his softening cock dragging back across the ground, cum running down branches and dripping off of leaves. Getting his wits about him, he rose to his feet and surveyed the damage.

His dick was gigantic. It was currently rivaling the length and girth of his arm, though his muddled memories of a minute ago told him that, while erect, it would be closer to one of his legs in size. His balls somehow felt both bigger and smaller than he expected them to be- larger than before he crossed the river, but smaller than the pants-tearing size he thought he remembered them being.

Speaking of which, his pants and underwear were damaged- still usable, as a quick tug up told him that they could still support his pendulous nuts, but there were too many tears in inopportune places to be usable in polite company. Not to mention that they were near capacity without his cock crammed in there. And the scene in front of him- holy fuck, how did all that come from him? A good chunk of the trail he forged was now painted a dripping pearly-white.

Wyatt’s thoughts were stopped by the growing, intensifying tingle’s return. He picked himself up and continued retracing the path back to the village. He might have no control over when his wish would end- or maybe if, he feared- but at least he could get to his car. Or, at worst, somewhere where someone could find him more easily.

==

Wyatt struggled on. His growing package was an increasing encumbrance, turning his run into a walk into a hobble once his swelling balls had finally managed to irreparably split his pants apart. They reached, and then swiftly passed the size of his head and still continued onward. His cock continued to dominate his body, having recovered its vigor from that surreal orgasm and now staying rock-hard from the wish’s attention. It now had a slight upward bend to it, and even though the base pointed straight forward, the head, out of his reach, would curve up to be level with his chin. It spat out globs of precum with each swing back and forth, decorating the forest floor as he went.

He was thankful that at least the trail’s challenges were growing simpler and simpler now- the challenges in getting from the village to the well grew increasingly difficult and obscure, but since they were all behind him, the only growing difficulty bobbed in front of him with every step and weighed against him with every single swing of his legs. Even when he made the last turn and saw some of the old buildings between the trees, he didn’t feel relieved. It took serious work to move his shin-reaching balls with each step and the burn in his legs was becoming harder and harder to bear. And so close to his goal…

Wyatt pulled his dick close to his body, spun himself around, and then lowered himself so that his balls brushed the grass. It probably wasn’t a great idea, but it got him working a different set of muscles and finally got some of the weight off his legs. It only took him a few steps backwards to realize a new drawback of doing this, but it was too late to rethink his decision.

The feeling of the grasses underneath his nuts, caressing him with every step he made, was intensely arousing- maybe it was the magic still working itself out, but he felt that arousal spike and build in his balls, making them churn and pump out cum to slosh around. He felt the increased pressure build behind the base of his cock, the precum swiftly spilling out in a solid stream.

Fighting against his own endowment, he pulled himself down the last part of the trail and into the village. The tingling started up again, threatening, he feared, to immobilize him here once and for all. He redoubled his efforts, pulling his bobbing cock and sloshing, achingly full balls along the desolate main road. With every slumped-over, wooden house, caked green with moss that he passed, he could feel the wish coursing through him, etching that damn desire deeper into his very being.

He pulled himself around and slumped against one of the houses, out of breath and his muscles aching from exhaust. Frustratingly, he could see his car from here, the short distance now an uncrossable gulf due to his current state. He could feel that he was still growing, the tingling sensation spreading that much further out from his body with every heartbeat. His mind raced, searching for any last ideas for this situation. There was one that struck him, but he recognized the terrible risk it carried…

Wyatt leaned forward, gradually shifting his weight onto his bloated balls. He needed to be able to reach as much of his overgrown cock as possible, even though most of it was long out of his reach. Forget third leg, he thought as he struggled to find a good way to encircle its unreal girth with his arms, this is a second fucking torso. The slab of meat his body was resting on was (shockingly) comfortably warm even as it seemed to thrum and pulse with a life of its own.

He began to stroke his cock as best he could, making long, full-arm motions to stimulate the underside as best he could. It was a wholly alien sensation for him, both feeling the massive pillar against so much of his body, but also sensation of something so seemingly small against his dick. All the same, it was eager for any attention at all- every touch was welcomed with shocks of pleasure, making him moan and shudder beyond his control.

Another glimmer of an idea rose through the fog in his mind. He stretched his legs out and pushed against the ground, rolling himself that much further forward on top of his balls and angling his cock down just enough to start to brush through the grass. With the newfound sensations, he screwed his eyes shut and tried thrusting his hips wildly, trying to eke out a few more drops of pleasure, to little avail. But soon enough, he came.

The massive orbs he rested on began to contract and push their load upwards. Wyatt felt the stream of cum racing down his cock, hearing it shoot past his head and push against his arms. He shot rope after rope after rope from his seemingly endless reservoir. As the orgasm continued, he felt himself sink lower and lower as his balls shrank, eventually finding himself kneeling before his still-draining nuts.

Just as suddenly as it started, his orgasm came to an end. Three final ropes, each smaller than the last, splattered somewhere ahead of him as they added themselves to the untold gallons he had already released. Wyatt tried to steady his breath and made an anemic attempt to stand. He bought himself some time, and while he couldn’t predict when the wish would strike again–

He stopped when he opened his eyes. In front of him was his impossibly large cock, and beneath it, his still ludicrously-sized balls, though now they look thankfully more portable. The size unnerved him, but that wasn’t what stopped him.

Floating off of his cock and into the air like rising steam was a small stream of golden particles, hanging in the air. As he watched, another stream rose to match the first, then a third, then a fourth. He could feel a great weight, that unrelenting need lift off of him with each particle that left him. Deep in his bones, in every tired muscle, he knew what he was seeing before him. As the last whisps of magic left him, he felt that tingling sensation, so familiar in the past few minutes, sublimate into the air around him.

The wish was complete.

Wyatt sat there, marveling at the sight before him and watching the golden shimmer dissipate, returning to the forest, the well, the village, or wherever it had come from. He smiled at the display and was happy, for the moment, that all his work had finally paid off. When the minute passed, he tried to stand and return to his car, only to be sharply returned to the present as he fell back to the ground.

He was still tethered to the largest cock that he’d ever seen, though it was still softening and drooling out a last few globs of cum. It seemed to sit there in the grass as it trailed up to his body, lolling over his balls before meeting his crotch. God, his balls were just as absurd. They sat wide and heavy, medicine balls in their own right.

Wyatt took a deep breath. This was going to be trouble. He reached forward and gathered up his cock, trying to get it to fold up and double over now that it was fully soft. This was a Herculean task in and of itself, as it seemed to love being in any state that wasn’t where he wanted it to be. Once he got it relatively in hand, he stood and, seeing that there was no adequate way for him to carry his dick in his arms, slung it over his shoulder.

He froze when he felt something slap solidly against his ass.

Turning around in the direction that didn’t put a slab of flesh directly in his face, he could confirm that yes, his cock was long enough, flaccid, to reach above his shoulder and back down like that. He sighed as he shifted the weight back up his shoulder. Some wish this was, huh?

Wyatt waddled over to his car, cautious as each step jostled his now-empty balls. He eyed the tide of white that they’d produced over the last half hour or so. He almost felt a pang of pride, surveying how his cum plastered over branches and leaves, shingles and wooden panels of one poor abandoned house, and the hood and windshield of his car alike. One flick of the wipers would clean it, hopefully, but the rest of the mess would be impossible to explain to anyone, if his current state were any easier.

He fished the keys from his pocket and opened his car. Part of him felt bad leaving this mess behind, but what the fuck else was he supposed to do?

He paused before sitting down, suddenly realizing he had to clue how to fit himself behind the wheel. He started off backing himself in and setting his dick off to the passenger side, freezing when he felt his cockhead brush against the door on the far side. Resigning himself to the situation, he leaned back and pulled his balls in, one after the other, then holding them back as he shut the door.

Wyatt let out a sigh as he sat back. His lap was filled with his nuts, pressed between the door, the center console, his body, and the wheel. Off to the side, he had a thick line of cock reaching the other side of his car. Dead ahead of him, his windshield was mostly obscured by a thick layer of cum.

He started the car, watching the cum get wiped away like snow before throwing the car in reverse and making his way back home. There were so many plans he had to make now: how he was getting back to his house, how he was going to explain this to his friends and to his workplace, how he was going to stay modest and presentable…

…And how he was going to make his next coin and return.