Jake woke slowly as the morning light filtered through the cracks between unfamiliar curtains. He fumbled around and managed to piece together that he was in Katie's double-sized bed. He swept his hand through the cool sheets, hoping to find her warm, curvaceous form, but it seemed he was alone. The memory of last night stirred a feeling first familiar, then decidedly unfamiliar. He opened his bleary eyes and was struck by the noticeable tent he was making in the duvet.
"H-holy shit." He pulled it aside and was greeted by an almost obscene stretch of boxer-fabric, almost pulled to translucency over his dick. It looked even larger than last night, a massive curve of cockmeat terminating in a head the size of a small peach. His hands gravitated towards it to unhook the overstressed boxers, and it swung up aggressively to a perfect 90 degrees. You could use it as a set square, he thought, already tentatively tracing the lengthy shaft with both hands. It wasn't as though he had never had morning wood before - but the term he had used had been 'wake-up stiffie'. This was a phenomenon on an altogether grander scale.
He encircled his cockhead with one hand and squeezed gently - to his delight the stimulation swelled it even larger, becoming rock-hard in his grip. He teased the tight foreskin, luxuriating in little shivers of ecstacy that had never been present at his smaller size. Despite last night's double bubble it seemed raring to go again, already lubricating his hand with precum. It really was very bright outside, he thought, and that led to a suspicion that subtly took the edge off his considerable erection. It was Monday, wasn't it?
"Uuh, what time is it," he muttered, reaching across to the bedside table and finding only a carriage clock. He picked it up and angled it so the sunlight caught on the hands.
Eight fifty-two.
"Shit," he repeated, this time less in self-veneration. "Shit shit shit." Given that his normal commute took ten minutes, and Katie's apartment couldn't surely be any closer to his place of work, he had approximately minus-two minutes to get up, get dressed, and leave in time. Well, he thought, he could skip shaving, breakfast, and ... yeah, that still left him in desperate need of Dr Who.
A further obstacle became apparent as soon as he swung out of bed and tried to reposition his boxer; despite the shock his cock was still far too large and hard to cram back in. He watched the spectacle detachedly in Katie's mirrored wardrobe; the shaft momentarily curving as his slim hands hooked the boxer on then remorselessly straightening, forcing the elasticated band to slip off or directing itself through one of the leg holes. This had never been a problem at 5.4 inches, he thought ruefully By eight fifty-five he had managed to position it so it curved up and to the right, towards his hip, still around 3/5ths hard and close to seven inches long. He hunted around for his other items of clothing in Katie's room. He'd just have to go into work in his trackies and T-shirt - not quite what was usually mean by 'smart casual' but he'd seen worse in the IT department.
At eight fifty-eight he was pounding the pavement, the shock of his feet hitting the floor sending quite unmanageable ripples through his large and now woefully mispositioned penis. He weighed up the possibility of catching the bus but decided that would probably waste more time than just running flat-out. Not that he was quite as fast as usual thanks to his genitals. When he got to work and had made his apologies he'd have to duck into a bathroom and reduce himself to a size more commensurate with what he was used to, at least until he got used to being 'big' rather than 'mediocre'. That thought drew his attention to the breeze whistling around his right wrist.
"The watch!" His outburst drew a few odd stares as he stopped dead halfway down the High Street. How the hell had he forgotten to look for it? He didn't normally go out without a watch, after all. It hadn't been on the bedside table where he'd been sure he'd put it just before his second bout with Katie. Oh well, he'd have to follow up later; he was pretty sure his manager wasn't going to accept 'went back for a watch' as an excuse, and unless he was missing something fundamental he wasn't sure the ability to change the size of people's penises was going to help him out in that situation.
The combination of these delays meant it was twelve minutes past nine by the time he arrived at Raul Industrial Stationery, the hardware procurement and commissioning service where he worked as a copywriter.
"I'm sorry," he gasped, deciding on the spot to keep it simple, "I was over my girlfriend's house and lost my watch."
"That's the third time you've been late in two weeks," Jane, his line manager, a thin woman of around 40, said icily. "You'll have to make it up, of course."
"Sure," he said, intending to come across as earnest, though her sudden purple flush seemed to imply she had taken it as chatback.
He fired up his computer and waited for Outlook to figure out whether it was going to let him do any work today, trying to ignore the feeling of his dick probing its way down his leg again. Come on, he thought, I've just been for a run, isn't that supposed to direct the blood elsewhere or something. Surely it hadn't felt this large yesterday? There was a warmth to it that felt familiar, a deep erotic tingle.
"What the hell?" Jake pulled his chair back and watched what had been a sizeable sausage inflate further, creating a monstrous bulge. He looked around - no-one in sight with the watch. That wasn't possible, was it? Well, said a little voice, on Saturday morning you would have said changing a person's penis size with a watch was impossible. Changing it at a distance seems a fairly easy ask if you've - ahem - swallowed that premise.
"Erm, I need to go to the loo," Jake croaked, trying to adjust himself back to a semblance of something that wouldn't get him arrested as he rose. Jane clucked angrily as he made for the men's toilets.
This time his trouser-snake had well and truly outgrown the confines of his boxers - about a third of it now protruded well below the legs and the thickness was such as that he could barely get his hand around it. He guessed he must be close to ten inches now, even allowing for its current confinement. I'm porn-sized, he thought, staring at the twitching organ. He shook his head. Right now the only question had to be - was whoever had further inflated his manhood done with it, or did they have further growth in mind? He repositioned his clothing again, this time leaving the massive lolling tree-trunk of a cock jutting vertically out of his boxers and hoping the elasticated band would hold the weight up. The rules of the watch required twenty-four hours between changes to the same person, so he was probably OK to put in a day's work, assuming his increasingly imposing boner would permit it, but the rules had already been broken by the fact that it had apparently been used at a distance. Suddenly everything seemed very uncertain.