Wild Intervention

Days turned to a week with no answers. Rumors began circulating of other men afflicted, their dicks dwarfed by a curse of unknown origin. Then the hazmat-suited official showed up at your door, ordering you quarantined. Perplexed but with ****, you bundled into a waiting van and were whisked to CDC headquarters.

Now, a fortnight later, you stood outside your old life, a life that had moved on without you. The guy in the hazmat suit, calling himself Dr. Briggs, prodded you into the lobby. As soon as you were alone, he lifted the flap on his helmet. "I need to show you something," he said, holding up the shimmering Page of Wands. "But I'm afraid..."

Briggs began to tremble and convulse. His suit tented obscenely and you watched in shock as a dark stain spread across his crotch. He collapsed in a seizing heap, the card clattering to the tile. Slowly, Briggs peeled off a glove. His hand was clenched white-knuckled around the card. As he unfurled his fingers, you saw the truth - his johnson had shrivelled to a tiny nub, looking no bigger than yours.

"My God," Briggs wheezed. "It's spreading..."

He staggered to his feet and lurched for the elevator, pulling you along. In the lift, he stabbed the buttons with urgency. "We're going to Level 5. The truth is, this isn't just about dick size. There's something metaphysical at play here. That card... it's more than a curse. It's a key."

The doors slid open on a bustling command center. A hundred people in lab coats swarmed around blinking monitors. Briggs shoved through the throng to a hulking steel door marked Authorized Personnel Only. He punched a code in the keypad and pulled you into a dimly lit room.

Inside were shelves lined with the accoutrements of dark magic - grimoires bound in black leather, reeking censers, taxidermied animals with glassy eyes. In the center of a chalk circle stood a steel table and strapped to it, a naked man. His eyes rolled wildly in his head and his micro-prick was clamped in a metal device.

"We've discovered the link," Briggs said, his voice low and urgent. "The Page of Wands is a focus, a conduit for astral energies. This man, he drew the card first. And now..."

The strapped man let out a strangled moan. The device whirred to life and a searing blue light emanated from the point of his prick. Briggs held up a dusty tome. "The Liber Wandes, an occult text from the 16th century. It speaks of the Page as an initiator. Once awakened, it unleashes a chain reaction, an exponential surge of occult power. Men become the vessels. But the power consumes them, warping their bodies and minds."

You watched in horror as the man's body began to stretch and change.