Duh! Get a Big Dick!

Even after all that, the fucker never did tell me who they were.

Ok, it's official. Someone must have spiked my whiskey. Or maybe a gas leak. Or maybe the stress of the day just drove me fucking crazy. Who can tell?

Setting my phone down on the bathroom counter, I turned and gave myself a good look in the mirror.

Even after having a literal horse cock for five minutes, I was still having a hard time accepting what I had seen and felt myself.

Ok, ok. Just breathe. I appear to have been given what could be conservatively called a god tier item. The question now is... What do I do with it?

Looking in the mirror, my head swam with all the possibilities.

Now, I wasn't what I would call a bad-looking dude. Sure, I was no Brad Pitt or whoever it is that women gush over these days. But the fact was, over the last few years I had kind of let myself go a bit. I had a bit of a gut and could probably use a good shave and trip to the barber. I was also starting to get some grey spots in a few areas of my brown hair. And we won't even mention my average package.

Yeah, you read right. Average. It's my story, I can have whatever I want.

Ahem, anyway...

Walking back to my room, I debated with myself on what I should change first. Finally, much to my own annoyance, I settled on doing what that fucker in my messages said I would do first.

Get a bigger dick.

Because, you know, I could. Yeah. That's my reasoning and nothing else.

In my panic earlier to remove my equine feature, I had dropped the Magic Marker™ on the floor.

Wait, did I seriously just add the fucking ™?

In my own internal monologue?

Fuck.

I need more whiskey.

Whatever.

I picked the marker up off the floor and gave it a much closer look than before. All-in-all it looked like a regular Sharpie, just without any lettering or markings on it, but the guy in the text had said it had been around for some untold amount of time. If that was the case, then was it always a marker? I find it hard to believe that someone in, let's say colonial times, would have known what a marker was.

As I was imagining what an ancestor would have thought about if they had found it, the marker suddenly started glowing. The light seemed to wrap itself around and before my eyes the shape started to change. It lengthened and flared at the base while becoming thinner towards the tip until, as if to answer my unsaid question, the light retreated and I was holding a completely new writing utensil.

A feather quill.

"What the fuck?" I said aloud. "Ok, well I guess that explains that."

Both the feather and the haft were gold and it tapered down into a nearly pointed tip, with only a small ball of metal preventing it from being sharper.

Curious if I could even write on skin in this form I pressed it against my arm to leave a mark and to my surprise it wrote nearly them same as it did if it had been the marker.

Not wanting to run the risk of some odd transformation, I walked back to the bathroom and washed the mark off.

"Can you change back?"

Great, now I'm talking to a marker (quill?).

Once again it glowed before resuming its prior shape.

"Well that's fucking freaky."

Whelp, no time like the present I suppose. So I removed the cap and thought about what to write.

Now most guys, I assume, would immediately try and give themselves as big of a dick as possible. Due to my previous experience however, I wasn't so keen as to give myself an obvious disability. I mean, dude, that thing was scary. I had an image of women running away from me like I was some sort of Eldritch horror, cock just swinging between my legs as I chased them. Not only that, but it would probably use up all of the rest of the blood in my body just to get hard.

No, no. I want bigger but let's try and be reasonable.

After a quick internet search, I discovered that the consensus among most women was that the preferred size was around 6.5 inches long and about 5 inches in circumference, which was actually a bit of a surprise for me. I figured they'd all want like 10 or 12 inch dongs and as thick as a soda can, which I also learned was 8.5 inches around.

But while I am sure there are some size queens out there that have that fetish, it apparently was not as common as I thought.

Still, my ego wouldn't let me relent, so I settled on 8 inches long and 6 inches in girth, cause hey, what's an inch and a half among friends, right? Right.

Respectable and manageable.

Now, how do I write this?

Looking at the marker and then my arm I realized that I might not have enough "canvas" to write all that I wanted to with the markers broad tip. I wanted to make sure that everything I was about to change was actually something I wanted before I made it permanent.

"Any chance you can become a fine tip?" I asked the utensil.

As If it could hear me, and for all I know it could, the marker complied and glowed once again, changing into a metal fine tip, almost like a pen, but with a small sliver of the felt still visible.

"Perfect"

I wrote "Dick= 8" Length 6" Girth" on my arm.

The effect was immediate. I watched as my boxers starting filling out until I could actually see myself below my own gut for the first time since my twenties.

Oh yeah, that's much better.

But speaking of my gut, why not do something about that too?

So right below my dick size I wrote "Toned and athletic body" and once again felt the change.

My belly started to recede back into my body and become more toned, with the starting definition of a six pack. My biceps filled out and my legs and ass became firm.

Reflecting back at me from the bathroom mirror was a body I hadn't seen since I was a teenager. Hell, even as a teen I didn't have this kind of body. Sure, I was no High Jackman Wolverine, but damn did I look good. Besides, didn't he have to like dehydrate himself for a week or something in order to look like that?

Next was my hair. Actually, you know what? Since I looked like I almost did back then, why not just get the age to match the bod? The marker could do that, right?

Below my new body writing I wrote, "25 years old" and bam. I felt a slight burning sensation all throughout my body and as I watched in the mirror, I became younger and younger. The slight wrinkles in my face that I had barely noticed tightened up, my hair became lush and shiny again, with the grey going back to dark brown. I felt better than I had in a decade. Hell, I could even breathe better.

Fuck yeah, that's what I'm talking about.

Just to make sure I could keep this feeling, I quickly circled all three of the writings on my arm. As soon as it was complete the writing faded away, but the changes stayed.

Holyshitholyshitholyshit. Could I make myself immortal? My mind exploded with more possibilities.

Ok, ok, slow down. One step at a time.

First, let's take what I have for a test ride.

Back in my room, I opened my closet and found some nice black khaki pants and a solid white T-shirt, matching it with a light blue button up shirt to go over it. I quickly got dressed and went back to the bathroom to style my hair and wash my face.

Oh, yeah. Lookin' damn fine if I say so myself.

Time to head out and see if I can pick me up some fun tonight.