Tony moaned and writhed at the sensations of his ginormous cock. "Please," he begged, "stroke me off."
Ben's back was pressed against the ceiling. "Dude, I'm Atlas, I'm supposed to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, not spank guys off."
"Anything," begged Tony.
Ben shrugged, cracking the plaster, and then with another shrug lifted the roof off the house. Thankfully it was just a one-story.
This gave Tony's cock room to spring fully erect, looking like a maypole.
"We have to get an antidote," Ben rumbled. "We're freaks."
Tony, through an act of will, managed to ignore the demands of his enormous cock for a moment. "How will we get to the mall? It's not like we'll fit in the car."
"Dude," Ben said. "We'll walk. It's Halloween. People will think these are costumes."
"Yeah, but we're kind of obscene."
Ben shrugged again, then took the roof and set it aside. He grabbed the drapes and put them around himself as a kilt, then took the couch cover and draped it over Tony's cock. Then he picked the cock and the attached Tony up and put them on his enormously broad back and took off jogging for the mall.
People stopped and stared as they went past, but the main comments were "Cool costume!" and "Look what you can do with foam rubber!"
At last they got to the costume shop, but the door was closed and the lights were off. All except for one dim one in the back.
Ben pounded on the door, which amazingly enough did not break. A moment later, a light came on, and a minute after that, the old man who'd given them the powders opened the door and glanced out. "Oh," he said, looking up at Ben and Tony. "Atlas and Priapus. What marvelous choices."
"Dude," Ben rumbled. "We're freaks!"
"Well, a titan and a demigod, but close enough," the old man said. "What do you want from me?"
"An antidote!" Tony begged. "That or someone to spank me off!" His enormous cock quivered, thick as a telephone pole and half as long."
The old man chuckled. "Well, while there are of course such things as antidotes, how much are you willing to pay? And don't threaten violence. I can shut this door and this shop will be gone in an instant. Magic Shops have their protections, you know."
"What do you want?" Ben asked.
"Well, souls are traditional," the old man allowed, "though I've taken service as well. Samples are free but cures cost. It's part of the magical shopkeeper's charter, you know."
"What are you talking about?" rumbled Ben, then added deeply, "You must sacrifice to us, for we are gods!"
"Actually, no," said the old man. "You're a titan and no one but cultists worships those anymore, and he's a demigod, so same deal. And anyway, I worship far darker gods. And I can see from the way you're looking at me that I'm not going to get any souls or any other meaningful payment, but while I'm not allowed to give a cure away for free, mind you, I can give you one as something else."
"What's that?" Tony asked.
The old man giggled and tossed a packet onto the ground before them. "A moral quandary. There's enough in that packet to cure one of you but not both. And if you remain as you are beyond Halloween night, you'll end up in a freak show, a government lab or abducted by an underground cult as the image of their god. Hee-hee-hee!"
With that, he shut the door and turned off the light. Then the windows twinkled and a second later were replaced by a blank brick wall.
Tony and Ben stood there looking at the packet on the ground and the choice before them.