No Answers Yet

The door slammed shut, and I was alone.

God, what a mess I’d made of things again. My penis hung limply, now soft but still an unfamiliar 20 cm long, dangling awkwardly against my body. I was still naked. I slipped on a pair of pajamas and headed to the living room, where the book still lay on the couch. I picked it up without opening it and went to my room, grabbing a sheet of paper from my desk. Carefully, I began to open the book, using the paper to cover most of the page so I wouldn’t accidentally read something I wasn’t ready for. And there they were—handwritten notes scrawled in the margins next to the printed text. I obscured them partially with the paper, making them unreadable for now.

How powerful is hypnosis, really? After my realization, I knew I’d read those lines before, but I couldn’t recall exactly what they said. Still, I had a vague sense of it: my penis was supposed to grow. My testicles too. And I was supposed to produce a lot of semen. Lost in thought, I barely noticed time slipping away. I snapped the book shut. In the meantime, I’d gotten hard again, and a puddle of precum had formed under my desk. Damn it, I had to cover those pages.

I flipped through the book cautiously. The notes were only in the front sections. I grabbed some glue, scissors, and paper, and carefully covered the handwritten notes. The danger was contained—for now. But honestly, this couldn’t be real. You can’t make something grow through hypnosis, right? I mean, it’s not even hypnosis—it’s just words in a book. And yet, I glanced down at my erect penis. It looked even bigger than before. My testicles, too, were noticeably larger. I rummaged around for a measuring tape and eventually found one in Emma’s room. (God, the cameras—I’d forgotten about those. I had to figure out how to delete those recordings before Emma saw them.) I held the tape to my penis: 34 cm long, 20 cm in girth at the tip and the thickest part in the middle. Insane. I couldn’t stop touching it, and another large drop of precum oozed out—more than I used to ejaculate in total.

I scoured the internet for anything that could explain my situation, but, unsurprisingly, nothing came close. I searched for condoms in my size, unsure if even XXL ones would fit properly. I ended up ordering some expensive ones, even larger than standard XXL. Crazy to think I was now in that league. My mind wandered to porn. I was horny—what can I say? Even without that strange hypnotic book, I’d almost slept with a woman earlier. Almost. I’d probably never see her again. I’d screwed it up, as usual.

I went to a porn site and watched videos of men with massive cocks taking women by storm. Theirs were big, but when I looked down at mine, I realized I needed two hands to jerk off. Honestly, I wasn’t just keeping up—I was bigger. I came, shooting twelve heavy loads, not into a tissue but straight into the trash can next to me. Half of it missed. It was unreal. I was just as horny afterward, no post-nut clarity as they call it. My erection didn’t fade. I hopped onto a dating app and chatted with a few women. Most of it was nonsense, but one caught my eye. She had enormous breasts—every photo showed either her face or her massive chest. Red flag, sure, she was probably overweight, but she looked cute. I imagined how my huge cock would look between her giant tits. Had she ever been with a guy whose dick poked out the top? I came again, harder than I expected, especially since I’d just finished. Thick streams shot across my computer, coating everything. This happened two more times before I finally went soft.

I messaged her. Her name was Tina. Exhausted, I went to bed, but I needed answers. I decided to go back to the bookstore. Maybe the cashier—that goth girl whose name I still didn’t know—could tell me more about the book. I drifted off to sleep.