“Son of a bitch!”
Allison swore aloud, throwing her phone to the side and covering her eyes with her hands, groaning. She’d been talking to Paul for days; it had been going great. He seemed nice, not too weird, maybe a little bro-ish. He was definitely hot, so why did he have to go and ruin it by sending her a picture of his flaccid cock in the middle of the conversation? Her mind fully boggled, she picked up her phone again and looked away as she swiped over to a conversation with Janaea, one of her girlfriends.
[Oh my god, okay, so this guy I’ve been talking to for days…] she typed, sending the message.
Her phone beeped […And he sent you a dick pick?] Janaea responded.
[And he sent me a dick pick.] Allison typed, tapping send and hoping her dry tone was sent with it.
J: [Was it at least good?]
A: [Bff, Girl, it looked like an earthworm.]
J: [Lol. They could at least be photogenic. You know, a friend of mine gave me access for this new app that’s in beta. She says it screens and blocks unwanted dick picks, even causes trouble on their end.]
A: [No way, that’d be great. This is like, the fifth guy.] Allison had always wondered if there really was “an app for that”.
J: [Check your email, sis], her friend responded after a short pause. [Send feedback; if it goes live, proceeds go to charity.] she added after a minute.
Allison opened up her mailbox and found the email from her friend. Following the link, she saw that the app was already busy downloading itself onto her phone. After signing her life away to the Use of Terms Agreement, the app launched and a series of text began scrolling through her phone.
“Welcome, and thank you for downloading the Anti-Dick(ing) App, a wholly owned product of Dick and Son, Inc. With permissions, this app will screen your messages for pictures of or resembling the human male penis. Once the message is caught and hidden, you will be prompted to say whether the image was expected and requested, or unexpected and unwanted. If you choose the latter, the image will be deleted from your phone, and a special message will be delivered to the original sender. Enjoy freedom from unwanted pictures of dicks with Dick and Son, Inc.’s Anti-Dick(ing) App!”
The message closed, and Allison snorted. She liked the premise; she wasn’t sure about what that ‘special message’ meant, and for an app that alleged to screen for unwanted pictures of penises, it sure mentioned dicks a lot. But the app was installed, and Allison began to wonder how long she would have to wait to see if it worked. Giving that she hadn’t responded to Paul for almost 20 minutes, she was sure that he was likely getting nervous, maybe even working up the courage to rally and send another.
Right on cue, her phone buzzed and she looked at the screen and smiled when she saw she got another message from Paul. And another image.
[If you didn’t like the first one, here’s how you really make me feel] she read, as the text scrolled by. Suddenly her phone vibrated again and the new Anti-Dick(ing) app opened itself with a warning message.
“We’ve detected an unwanted and possibly obscene image sent to you by ‘Paul’. Do you consent to this image?” it read.
Allison raised her eyebrows in shock. She opened her messages to Paul, seeing his latest text hovering above a blacked out image. The App’s ‘yes/no’ option was still open, and Allison’s thumb drifted over and pressed no.
“Thank you. The image has been deleted and a special message has been sent to your friend. Have an excellemt evening, and thank you for downloading the Anti-Dick(ing) App!”
The message closed itself and the blacked-out image was deleted from her messages. She checked her photo gallery, and there were no strange pictures. Allison smirked and pulled up her conversation with her friend, ready to report her results. Meanwhile, across town, a young man named Paul was about to receive a harsh rebuke.
Paul’s House,
Paul leaned back in his chair shirtless, one hand scrolling through his phone while the other hand stroked his thick cock absent-mindedly. He’d been on a roll tonight; he’d posted pictures of his cock to all the cock-enthusiast pages on Reddit, much to their pleasure. The comments and messages he’d received from men and women had him hard and horny all day; he loved showing off his big cock. Maybe a little too much; he started to feel a twinge of regret, thinking that he’d maybe crossed a line by sending a couple to Allison. He’d met her a week ago, and they’d been talking on the phone daily since. They were both busy with work, it almost felt a little childish that they were ‘just talking’ like awkward teenagers. But they had a lot in common, and Paul found himself not minding being up late at night, waiting for Allison to sneak into an on-call room or a closet and call to tell him about another crazy story from the E.R. Now he’d gone and ruined it by grossing her out with a randy dick pick. He cursed himself, his dick growing soft in his hands as if confirming what he knew he should do. Paul was about to text Allison back and apologize, when his screen turned white and stopped responding. A message began to scroll across it.
“Dear ‘Paul’, you recently sent an unwanted dick-pick to user ‘Allison’. Your punishment, as determined by the Dicking Roulette Algorithm, shall be to spend ’72 hours’ as ‘Your own’ penis. Thank you for playing.” It finished.
Paul barely had time to digest those words before his camera flash went off and a terrifying sense of vertigo came over him. He felt his body thud against something soft but firm. Paul tried to move, to cry out, anything, but he found that he couldn’t even feel his arms or his legs. He could only look up to the ceiling as he caught his breathe and tried to take stock of the situation. What had happened? Did he fall of the chair and hit his head? Paul didn’t feel any pain, but he did feel a tight sensation around his waist…but he could also feel it around the underside of his balls. Paul tried to look down, struggling to bend his head and see what the pressure was. He found that he could look down enough to see down his torse somewhat. For some reason, he couldn’t see his nose, but he could feel something tugging at his chin connected to his chest. Looking down, he saw that his chest hair was gone, his chest and belly smooth and rounded. His body ended in a tangled mass of red fabric, with a hairy pair of orbs resting at his waist. Paul gasped, or he would have if he could move his mouth, when he recognized the red tartan pattern of his boxers; he liked to pull his big cock and his balls out of the hole in his boxers, because the slight tightness made his cock harder. Just the thought sent a shudder through his body, causing his torse to tense and throb. Paul could feel the throb in his head, almost like the throb of a headache, only pleasurable. It made him moan and drool, and he surprised himself by stretching and moaning as the fabric underneath him stimulated his body.
Paul lay there on the seat of his office chair, his balls churning and his body throbbing as it slowly dawned on him: he was his cock, somehow that message he received had turned him into his own, hard 8-inch cock. The thought was disturbing and yet also…erotic. He’d always been proud of his cock, and he enjoyed the attention he got online when he showed it off. Now that’s all he was: a fat, leaking 8-inch cock with a pair of tangerine-sized balls. He grew almost painfully hard, but then he wondered how this could have happened. Obviously, the message had something to do with it, but why? He wondered if it was some sort of sick, sci-fi revenge on Allison’s part. He also wondered if there was a way he could make himself come as just his own cock without any means to jerk himself. Paul actually found himself hoping someone would find him; Allison, his roommates, a home invader, anyone if it meant he could get some stimulation. Three whole days…Paul would have whistled. All pent up and nowhere to go…