The Misadventures Of Harry Palmer

Harry Palmer is a lazy trust fund kid. His parents have already passed away from an affluence-related condition. Harry, mildly numb, spends his days at university, bumbling along through passing interest after passing interest. As long as he is studying, Harry can largely meet the terms of his inheritance.

Mostly, Harry likes to pump iron at the gym. He isn't into any of that competitive stuff. He simply enjoys maintaining his physique. Because of his tall frame and the effort he has put into his appearance, Harry has little trouble attracting sexual interest from other people. Ply him with a few drinks at the uni bar, and Harry will climb into bed with almost anyone.

Harry's appearance comes with the burden of great expectations: surely a guy as tall and as solid as Harry must be packing something pretty extraordinary down in the trouser department, and one might be forgiven for thinking so.

Being the kind of person who is open to other people and new opportunities, Harry is always willing to share the mystery of himself with others. He has some experience, and he knows the kind of response to expect when someone rips off his pants: surprise, mixed with disappointment; maybe a sneer of disgust, quickly concealed; perhaps bemused silence; occasionally an attempt to stifle a giggle. Once in a while, the prospect might even back out, coming up with some excuse to leave.

Of course, almost nobody wants to be mean, but you can tell when someone is a little crushed. Harry doesn't mind so much. At almost three inches full-tilt, he has long ago accepted the fact that he is a Small Penis Man.

* * *

One night in the student bar, an attractive woman squeezes in next to Harry at the bar.

"Can I buy you a drink?" she asks.

"Sure," responds Harry.

There is a lot of noise and light, and Harry is already feeling a bit loose. There is a definite sense of attraction between them.

"Stella," offers the woman, holding out a hand. Harry takes her hand and gently squeezes it. "Harry," he replies. "How's it going?"

"Ah y'know, working on the master's thesis, it's very interesting. I've been studying transplantation rejection at the clinic, but I'm a bit disappointed with myself. My current project... Well.." She shakes her head. "I'm still working out some tissue rejection issues. And then I realised - it's been ages since I've gone out and had some fun. I figured I should get out of the work mindset y'know, maybe have a few drinks, unwind.. Listen to me ramble. How about yourself, what do you do?"

Harry watches Stella as she speaks. She really is very attractive: long dark hair, curious lively eyes behind large glasses. She is quite buxom. Harry is immediately charmed.

"Er um, I study down at the arts faculty right now.. uh.." Harry responds. "I like pumping iron, but other than that I don't really get up to anything interesting I guess."

"Oh. Well... Aren't you the shy type then."

Harry shrugs.

"I can't say I'm studying anything quite as fascinating as the ins and outs of tissue rejection," he offers. Stella seems amused by that.

Harry and Stella enjoy an evening of chit chat and a few laughs, but eventually they run out of things to say. The bar is almost too loud for conversation anyway. They regard one another with quiet curiosity, until the moment becomes almost too awkward.

Stella speaks.

"Y' wanna come back to my place, Harry?"

"Ok, Stella. Sure, why not?"

* * *

At Stella's place, a short while later. After a few more drinks, a few less clothes, a little more chit-chat, Stella asks Harry, "Do you wanna come to bed with me?"

Harry follows, towering over Stella. They make their way to Stella's bedroom. It is cosy and comfortable, tastefully decorated. Harry feels safe, relaxing with Stella on her large mattress. Stella peels off her top to reveal a large stiff bra. She springs the clasp, and her seemingly pressurised tits burst free of their confines. Harry is completely amazed. He loves huge tits, and Stella owns a majestic pair.

Stella really looks much better without clothes on. Harry reaches his hands out to explore her heavy, swaying tits. They must be at least F-cups. They feel so firm and weighty in his hands. He hefts and squeezes these huge naturals, before gently caressing their nice, shapely nipples. Stella really seems to appreciate the attention, and the two of them move closer together. Harry and Stella share a lingering kiss, which leaves Harry feeling giddy.

Stella reaches down into Harry's pants, feeling about for the monster that isn't there.

"Here we go," Harry thinks, anticipating The Response.

Stella pulls at the elastic. Harry is weighing one breast while massaging the other, but he allows them to fall free so he can help Stella, who is trying to free him from his jocks.

"Oh wow!! It's so small!" Stella gasps when Harry's penis is revealed. She scolds herself for her impetuous outburst. Despite the micropenis, Stella can't get over how hot she finds Harry. "He is so ripped, just like an Adonis!"

Expecting to tweak himself off tonight, alone once again, Harry is caught off guard when Stella says, "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be rude. Your cock is actually very cute." To his surprise, Stella brings her hot, wet mouth down onto his tiny little cock, popping it all in there at once.

"Mmmm, it's so easy to suck," laughs Stella, before sucking him off some more. "No offence, but I've never seen one this small before!"

Harry moans with pleasure, and begins to rock his hips. Stella swings her broad peachy arse around to Harry's face. Fortunately, Harry is eager to please. His long tongue is skilful, honed through a lot of practice under the kind guidance of previous sexual partners. Harry take his time to probe and suck and lick his way around Stella's juicy vulva and swollen clitoris, before plunging his tongue deep into her wet, tangy opening.

Harry tongue fucks Stella, and she continues to suck him off like a vacuum cleaner. The feeling of her heavy tits pressed firmly into his crotch is heavenly. He hasn't had much release of late, and when he finally goes off, his load is thick and copious. Stella guzzles it all down with great enthusiasm. She is moaning with delight, and her juicy cunt begins to spasm and clench all around Harry's probing tongue and long, manly fingers. They share a wet and creamy finish together.

"I want you to fuck me right between my tits with that little cock, Harry," Stella commands.

Within an instant, Harry is rubbing his cummy cock between the fleshy valley of her plush, generous jugs. Stella has them pushed together around Harry's cock. Her breasts shake and quiver deliciously to every thrust that Harry delivers. It is a marvellously boobalicious experience in every way, and Harry returns to a fully erected state in no time. Stella looks down with eagerness while Harry rolls his tiny little cock back and forth against Stella's sternum, deep between those luscious tits.

After a while of this fascinating attention, Harry builds up to his second climax of the night. He goes off like a volcano, deep between Stella's mountainous mammaries. He spills his sauces all over them. Stella yells out with great encouragement. "Fuck yeah Harry!!! Blow your hot load all over me!!!" His tiny cock lets loose all over Stella's gigantic rolling orbs, her face, her glasses, her hair.

Later they try to fuck. Harry is able to pop his dome in, but that's as far as he can get. He fucks at Stella, who moans the whole time. "Fuck me deeper, Harry, fuck me deeper!!" Harry tries as best as he can. They twist and grind and thrust at each other until Harry finally shoots off another load into Stella's opening. Stella whispers, "Good work, Harry, good work." They soon pass out together in a warm embrace.

* * *

It is a couple of years later. Harry and Stella are still together. Harry is still mainly a loser, bumbling around campus, a perpetual student. Occasionally, he is dragged home by some curious young hopeful, and then they laugh at his dick and are never seen again. Or, they do stick around, but then Harry remembers to tell them about Stella. Feeling deceived as well as disappointed, they tell Harry he's a dick, and then dump him. Stella admonishes Harry, reminding him to be more up front about the open relationship. Stella doesn't mind Harry's humiliating "indiscretions". Truth be known, she enjoys the opportunity to stuff a larger cock than Harry's up herself every now and then.

Meanwhile, Stella's medical career is going great, and she has a special birthday surprise for Harry. "But I need you to come down to the lab," she says.

Harry makes his way over to Stella's lab. She is so excited and eager to show Harry his gift.

Before him is a cylindrical tank, about two meters long. It is connected to life support equipment. The mid-section of the tank is transparent, and the contents of the cylinder leave Harry speechless.

Inside the tank floats an enormous set of male reproductive organs - a massive flaccid penis, about a foot long, accompanied by an impressive pair of testicles, all suspended in a clear fluid and tethered to the life support system.

"What you see before you is my latest effort," announces Stella proudly. "I grew it using a transgenic donor. We grow these donors for all manner of in-demand organs: hearts, spleens, kidneys, eyes... all pre-ordered by a VIP list of clients. I was able to make a special tweak to a donor specimen, just for you, Harry."

"What the fuck, Stella?" asks Harry, shocked and mortified.

"I've been taking genetic samples from you over the years, I wanted to make you a bigger dick. I love you Harry, but I need a bigger dick. I've always wanted to fuck someone with a cock the size of a horse's, but without the obvious issues of fucking an actual horse... I mean, bestiality - ugh! ...Plus, a lot of the guys who do have big dicks, well... they're mostly a bunch of dicks."

Harry stares into the tank. The transgenic penis throbs gently to the beeping tempo of the life support unit. The testicles roll about in their sack in a lazy manner. Stella adjusts the life support unit settings, and the penis begins to assume its full size. Harry watches, speechless.

The erection, about as long as an arm, sways gently within the tank. The penis appears to beckon to Harry. Harry feels an intense rush of envy and desire in the pit of his stomach.

"Well... isn't there something a little fucked up about using a transgenic donor for your own perverted little fantasies, Stella?"

"Maybe Harry, but I'm a scientist, not an ethicist. I wanted to gift you this magnificent penis, to fit you with the kind of cock a man like you deserves. With that cock, you could help me to satisfy my intense and complicated sexual needs. Harry, I need it to be you who gets to fuck me with that stallion cock."

Words fail Harry. He is blinking fast. Stella recognises his confusion and his deluge of thoughts.

"I didn't ask you to do this for me, Stella.."

"Harry, your new penis is here now anyway, don't you think it would be such a waste? To throw away a perfectly good human cock - albeit one scaled to a stallion. Matched to your unique genetic profile?"

"What about rejection?" Harry tries.

"The donor was genetically engineered to produce a giant cock and ball set just for you, Harry. Your body will recognise this equipment as your own. It actually IS your own equipment. Well, a copy thereof, but with some minor re-sizing tweaks."

"Don't you think it's a little on the too-big side though?"

"Maybe for some, but it's just right for the two of us. C'mon Harry, just think about it, please? Do it for the both of us. Pleeaase..."

* * *

Harry is being wheeled into the operation theatre.

"Hello, Harry, I'm Sean, I'll be your anaesthetist for today's procedure. Now Harry, I'm just going to ask you to count backwards from ten. You think you can do that for me now?"

"Uh. Ten..."

"Very good, Harry."

"Nine.."

"Keep going.."

"Eight.."

* * *

It is the next day. Throbbing through the painkillers, Harry can feel a dull pain, deep inside his crotch. Everything is packed tightly into bandages. Harry goes back to sleep.

* * *

The next few weeks at the transplantation clinic are a bit of a haze. Harry is kept on a variety of pain meds while the surgical results knit together and heal. There is a procession of doctors, nurses, aides, cleaners, company execs.

His cock is bandaged, un-bandaged, re-bandaged. Catheters inserted, removed, re-inserted. Harry can feel a heavy and numb weight down there. There is a constant throbbing ache at the site of the surgery.

Every now and then, doctors enter the ward, examine the results with much pointing, prodding, hefting. Notes are taken. Assurances offered: "Nerves will connect, everything is taking." Their comments are positive, overall. Harry feels like crap.

The rest of Harry's life is going terribly. Stella hasn't been in to see him. Only a couple of video calls, all grim. She is being hauled before an ethics committee. It looks like there will be charges, a trial, prison time.

Harry is now meat. A product. Some Thing to be scanned, poked, and prodded at by doctors. The medics are always accompanied by corporate types. Aside from the medical research data that needs to be gathered, there is a mountain of intellectual property that needs to be protected.

It seems that Stella was able to bioengineer a copy of Harry's original reproductive organs, but with modifications to the code that included equine DNA. Harry has become the world's first transplant recipient of a hybridised human/horse penis.

He grows tired of his confinement to the clinic. The medical gowns, the I.V. lines, the catheters, the bland food, the lack of gym time. He is not to exert himself. It hurts to sit down. It hurts to move. Everything is awful. He feels homesick.

He has a constant awareness of the gigantopenis weighing heavily between his legs. It feels like several kilos of dead weight, dangling and swaying about from his groin. It is a constant dull presence.

The pain of complete demasculation right down to the root continues to throb and radiate outwards from deep within Harry's pelvis. When he looks down at the surgical results, all he can see is the bandaged trunk, hanging limply down to his knees. His balls are bandaged up. There are some visible stitches around the base.

Every now and then, he can feel the sensation of pins and needles in his new cock, but mostly everything there feels numb, and the fog of painkillers have him floating about in a muted half-world.

Harry feels a great deal of regret about throwing away his perfectly functional penis. He has fallen into a bleak state of mind.

Joining the seemingly endless procession of professionals coming to Harry's ward are the attorneys. Statements are taken, forms are signed, charts copied.

Soon enough, journalists are added to the throng. Harry's private life begins to fall apart under the gaze of very keen public interest. Headlines scream: MEGA COCK UP! He is rapidly propelled from the occasional 'Whatever happened to the Palmer Child' stories to mythical status. His story has captured the public imagination. It is all very undignified.

Stella is eventually tried, convicted and sentenced. The proceedings are a bigger deal than the Theranos, Musk, and Zuckerberg trials combined. Harry is angry at Stella. He misses her too, and wishes he didn't.

Harry is consistently frustrated and exasperated by his situation. To cap it all off, he can feel something building up deep inside down there. Harry suffers, week after week, from a dull ache for release.

* * *

And then one night it happens. Harry is asleep in his hospital bed, experiencing nightmares of constriction. The monitor's beeping tones increase in tempo. Sensations of arousal stir Harry from his restless slumber. He can feel his new cock throbbing. He can feel it twitching. He can feel it swelling. It hurts. The bandages!

Harry hunches forward and carefully eases the catheter out of his new urethra, before slowly unwrapping his fat, weighty cock. Soon enough, the new penis is entirely naked and exposed.

The new cock is more like a trunk. It is a veiny and monstrous thing, all laid out straight before Harry on the mattress. This flaccid trunk extends almost all the way down to his knees. It is about thirteen inches long, and easily as thick as a soda can. The flesh tone is a good match for his own, although a little pinker due to the lack of weathering.

The newly unveiled organ begins to stir from its slumber for the very first time. Harry is absolutely entranced. He rests the palm of one hand upon the base of his new shaft. He can't quite squeeze his hand around it. The flesh feels hot, clammy, even a little greasy.

The erection steadily grows, inspiring in Harry a profound sense of awe.

The new glans penis slowly rolls its way out from within its protective prepuce. This wrinkled up foreskin has a considerable length to it, and when the fat bulbous head finally emerges from the sleeve, it is so swollen it's shiny. The juicy wet tip has a very human appearance. It is slightly longer than his original penis - maybe three inches long. It is also much fatter.

The glans is pushed along by the girthy shaft swelling behind it. This length telescopes its way out slowly, dragging the foreskin along with it. Eventually the sheath is stretched completely inside-out around the growing stiff. This newly exposed underside of foreskin takes up a considerable length of Harry's shaft. It has a raw and delicate appearance, revealing a fine network of capillaries and nerves.

Harry takes pleasure in the sensations of his blooming erection as it stretches and throbs its way out into the world for the very first time. The rhythmic pulsing of this Huge Man Cock feels intensely good. Every pulse of blood swells the shaft just a little more. Longer. Harder. Fatter.

Harry's replacement testicles are rolling about inside their fresh new ball sack, pushed aside by the shaft inflating between them. These new testicles are enormous, each one a bit larger than a duck egg. Nevertheless, the swollen balls look ridiculously tiny alongside the swelling base of his penis.

The commotion of the monitoring equipment attracts the attention of an orderly, who is astonished to witness Harry's gigantic naked erection snaking its way along the mattress. A doctor is called for. A team of medics rush into the room. External scars and stitches are inspected. There is a concern that the enormous swelling penis might pop and tear open the remaining stitches. However, everything has healed up beautifully. The last of the stitches are quickly plucked free.

Despite the flurry of activity surrounding him, Harry remains distracted by his still swelling monster penis. He is starting to feel a little light-headed. The new cock is almost double its flaccid size, and it's still swelling! Harry groans in response to the erotic sensations of his flourishing new manhood. He no longer sees a pathetic little micropenis. He sees a third leg. It looks preposterous. He blacks out for a moment.

Regaining consciousness, Harry is unable to engage with his cock because a medical go-team is already grappling with it. They are taking scans and measurements, inspecting scars, palpating the shaft, drawing blood from his arm. Harry feels even giddier. Despite the clinical attention, there is nothing but the pleasurable sensation of stiffening arousal. His cock continues to swell, eventually growing into a rock-hard state.

Several members of the go-team proceed to slather Harry's shaft in lube. Then they jerk, stroke and tug the penis in a coordinated, clinical manner. A large collection tube is produced, its silicone opening slipped right over the new penis tip. The go-team rapidly bring Harry off to an explosive finish. It is excruciatingly orgasmic. Jet after jet of hot, thick spoof rumbles its way through Harry's new length, and out into the collection vessel.