Monster Pric

Sometimes, it seems, mother nature is too much inclined to shower her blessings on one individual. Bob Hale certainly was one of them. he was well-endowed in every respect. He had brains, and clear skin that would not have looked amiss in a fashion model, a symmetrical face whose perfection made girls gasp, a glorious built, beautiful eyes and wavy dark hair. He had poise and grace, and a voice that seemed to tell its victims they were the only beautiful person on earth and the only one in the world for him. There was only one thing amiss; he was not very nice. But that did not bother him at all.

Once he had turned eighteen, as he said, he really started living. He left scores of unhappy girls in his wake, girls that after one night's bliss were mercilessly dumped, either immediately or by text message; he had composed a special insulting text file to do so.

Bob's parents were rather unhappy about all this. They tried to talk some sense into their son, but he didn't even understand what they were trying to say. How on earth could he do anything wrong? Well then. And he just kept on in what others thought of as a selfish, hedonistic lifestyle, involving lots of girls, easy money and gratifying encounters with other women - he especially liked somewhat older, married ones that, once they'd fallen for him, usually ended up with wrecked marriages. He highly enjoyed himself.

One morning he saw a little girl cross the road in front of a lorry, and before he knew he'd run and got her safely to the other side. He regarded his one unselfish action with amazement. To his disappointment there was no one there to have recorded this heroic deed - no reporters, no nothing. Tough. He dropped the girl onto the kerb and continued on his way; there was a new consignment of shirts at his tailor's, and he wanted to have the widest possible choice.

That evening, before it was time to go out on the prowl, the room filled with the scent of violets. There was a slight, hissing sound and a woman materialised right in the middle of the carpet. She wore a pink floral dress and a wreath of violets in her hair.

"Good evening, Bob Hale," she said as she entered his apartment. "I'm Miss Pimms of the flying reward squad. Prim & Proper, that's my motto. I've come to offer you three wishes."

"Good evening," he said. "three wishes? Fair enough."

"Excuse me?" the lady asked.

"Well," he said. "I could have done something nice instead, after all."

"Don't you think saving people is nice?" she asked.

"No, not particularly," he said. "I know I'm nice, and I think having a good time is."

The lady raised her eyebrows. Then she said, "You've been awarded three wishes. Please think carefully and do not waste them, young man. I can highly recommend the A1 package."

"What's in it?" the boy asked.

"Humility, redemption and a good wife," she said.

"Bah," Bob answered. "You sound like my parents. Psh - humility and redemption? And a good wife indeed. No, thank you very much. I'd rather make my own choices. I have had three urgent wishes for a long time."

"And those are?" she said.

"Oh," he said, "That's not difficult. I want a twenty inch cock, I want to spend the night with the sexiest woman on earth and I want never to work again."

"Excuse me?" she said again. "You must be out of your mind. What about a sweet, lovely wife, happiness, a reconciliation with your parents? Or world peace, or a better environment?"

"No thank you," he said. "I'd much rather have some fun things for myself."

The lady shook her head.

"Have you any idea what those will do for you?" she said. "Did you ever read Shakespeare?"

"Shakespeare?" he said, not comprehending. "I cannot be bothered with boring plays. No."

"So you are really bent on these foolish wishes?" she asked.

"Yes, of course," he said. "I will be the one and only Mr Big Prick."

You already are, Miss Pimms thought. "Well then," she said. "Your wishes will be granted; the first one may take a little time, though. But I fear you may be disappointed."

At that she disappeared, leaving a faint smell of violets behind that soon disappeared due to his overpowering expensive eau de toilette.

"Bosh," Bob thought. "I must have been dreaming."

He went partying at ten, and by eleven thirty he had made another conquest, an older lady who was pathetically grateful for his attentions; very satisfying, he thought. He'd taken her home to his apartment and made her undress. She wore ridiculous underwear, and he made a snide remark about it; he thought she had ugly boobs. Then he dropped his trousers and told her to suck him. She looked at him with a happy smile, gratifyingly uncertain of herself, and went down to her knees. And then he felt to his amazement that his cock began to tingle in an unaccustomed way. He looked at the clock; it was twelve sharp. His cock kept tingling until, with a kind of pop, it suddenly stood twenty inches long, pointing at the frightened woman with an angry purple tip, and with the circumference of a wine bottle. His conquest's eyes went wide with terror. She grabbed her discarded clothes, and hurriedly dressed as well as she could while she fled from the room.

Bob was perplexed. No woman had never deserted him before. He was so angry that his erection disappeared but his cock was still about fourteen inches long. He tried to put on his trousers; the thing didn't fit inside his trouser leg. "Damn," he thought.

A night without sex was inconceivable to him so he donned his roomiest overcoat, went out and found himself a prostitute. She looked at him in surprise, and told him she was willing to wank him off, but that was all she could be expected to do. He refused the offer and went home at once, not a little riled with the world at large.

"Damn that witch," he said.

As if on cue, there was a tingling of bells and another woman appeared. This one looked like a Mucha painting. She held a glass of wine in one hand and carried a shoulder bag. Bob thought she looked damn sexy and he got an instant erection.

"Let me introduce myself," she said. "My name's Miss C. Clarity of the complaints department. You may call me Cleo if you like."

"No, I don't," Bob growled. "Why doesn't this Miss Pimms come and have it out with me?

"Any problems?" she asked sweetly. "Is there anything wrong with the execution of your wish?"

"It's this bloody thing," he said.

"Oh dear," she said. "Let me check." She took a manila folder from her bag and consulted a document in it. Then she produced a tape measure and held it along his length.

"I see," she said. "Almost one inch short." She clicked her fingers and to his dismay the thing expanded a little more.

Bob got red with anger. "I want my own one back," he shouted.

"I'm very sorry," she said, "but there's no refund on our services. However, you may revise your other wishes if you like. Humility and redemption are still on offer - a good wife would be inhumane with that thing of yours."

"No thank you," he said. "My other ones are safe enough. I will at least have sex once more, and I couldn't work this way, could I?"

"There's always a way if you ask things nicely," she said. "I could think of loads of jobs in which your built would be no hindrance at all."

"Never mind," Bob said. "I'm not going to change my wishes because some old bag dislikes them, thank you very much."

Miss Clarity raised her eyebrows, but did not react to the intended insult. "I would strongly advise against them," she said. "This is your last chance; you won't see me again."

"You will want me to do something for someone, I suppose," he said. "Forget it."

"Have it your own way, then," she said. "I'm sorry for you - but there it is. Your second wish will be granted in a few days, and the third..."

"Well," he said.

"Oh, just a little later. Just a little later, " she said. "Goodbye."

Bob felt rather desperate. He wondered how on earth he could ever use a woman again - and then he contacted a company called Blue Movie. They told him to come and have a talk.

Once there the regular crew looked at him in disbelief. One of the female stars felt his monster and decided to her surprise that yes, it was real. But she wasn't having any, no, thank you.

"Mabel," the director said. "You don't mind fisting. Would you like to try him on?"

"I'd rather stay alive," Mabel said. "Freak!"

Bob went home. He tried to masturbate, but it was quite a job, and he needed both hands. It wasn't very pleasurable, and when he eventually came, it wasn't the fountain he'd expected - on the contrary, just a thin trickle eventually dripped from the tip. Later, when he went for a wee, the rest of his ejaculate appeared. He stayed indoors from that moment on, waiting for his second wish to materialise.

He got more and more disgruntled. After a few days he was so fed up he went to sleep at noon. He was so angry that he forgot to set his alarm.

When he woke up he had to adjust to the surroundings first. The place was fiercely hot and he looked around to find he was in a bedroom of sorts, lit by an assortment of candles. There were pillows and cushions all over the place and he felt as if he'd landed in the middle of one of Scheherazade's tales. He was quite alone; but after a moment the curtains were pushed aside. Across the room was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She had almond eyes, an olive complexion, breasts he'd only dreamt of, soft, supple limbs and long, shiny, dark hair that fell down past her buttocks. His loins started to stir immediately. The girl looked at him with a disdainful smile.

"So you're the task I was given for tonight," she said in a vague eastern accent. She turned him on his back, sat down on his stomach and clasped her legs around his erection. Then she squeezed him between them until he came, with a look of utter boredom on her face, and rolled over. She got up and left the room. Bob felt cheated no end.

A little later the door opened again and a few tall men came in. They were naked from the waist and carried scimitars in their belts. They took him by his shoulders. They didn't show any emotion on their faces, and they didn't speak. He was simply marched out of the room and taken down many flights of stairs, to a big oaken door that was unlocked upon a dank, small room that was empty but for a large, iron ring in the wall. They chained him to the ring and left him there.

He sat against the wall in utter darkness. Suddenly there was a faint smell of violets.

"We tried to warn you..." a voice said.