Happy little accidents

by MainAttraction

Nils gets a special gift from a new friend in French class, but it take him a while to discover just what it can do.

Added: 12 Dec 2020 Updated: 23 Jan 2021 4,915 words 4,589 views 4.7 stars (16 votes)

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“Alors, afin de former le passé du subjonctif, il vous faut …” I didn’t listen. Even though I really wanted to learn French, my university lessons were all so very technical and unexciting. I spent most of my time physically attending, but my mind often wandered elsewhere. Even though I had to be there in order to get my credits, I preferred doodling. Trees, houses, shapes, noses, eyes, money, cloth, or anything in plain sight. This day I doodled the back of the head of the person right in front of me. He had short hair – but what caught my attention were his swirls: His hair fell very unevenly to all directions which somewhat interested me, because, in total, his hairstyle somewhat worked. I had fun sketching all different parts of his “coiffure”.

At the end of the lesson, the guy in front of me turned around and saw my sketch, as I was rummaging through my bag in order to put my books in place. “Hé, mais c’est joli, ton dessin,” he said. I wasn’t expecting a compliment to my drawing.

I responded in English: “Thanks, actually that’s your head.”

I didn’t know what I expected, but he just laughed. “Well, I rarely see myself from behind. Didn’t know my hair is that messy.”

“Nah, don’t worry, it’s just fine. It’s very unique, I wouldn’t have drawn it if I didn’t consider it to be interesting,” I sheepishly responded.

He grinned. “Can I keep that? I really like it,” he asked. I happily handed my little sketch over to him. I rarely got compliments to my little doodles, and his warm and friendly face basically had me convinced immediately. “Thanks. I’m Daniel by the way.”

“Nils, nice to meet you.”

His expression changed a bit. “Nils – that’s a name I haven’t heard before where does it come from?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s actually a fairly common name—my dad’s German and he named me after his best friend. A bit weird, but they basically are like brothers. And I really like him as well.”

Daniel nodded and started searching something in his bag. He took out a nice-looking fountain pen. It was metallic, and dark blue. And weirdly enough there was a small, well-designed silverish label saying “Nils”. “My sister gave that to me a while ago – I don’t use it. And as you are far better at drawing, I’d gift this one to you, since you gave me your little sketch. Funny enough, it has got your name on it,” Daniel said.

I refused first – it looked far too expensive to be gifted away this easily, but Daniel insisted. “Just make another nice sketch of me, whenever you got the time, and let me see it.”

I didn’t understand at the time that Daniel was trying to hit on me. I smiled at him, said “thanks, of course,” took the pen, and we said goodbye to each other.

On my way home, I inspected the pen a bit further. I smirked at the label and just giggled about the coincidence. I took out a small piece of paper and started doodling away with it. It was unusual for me to draw with actual ink, but the result was rather pretty. The unevenness of certain lines just made everything look more artistic. I’d be able to draw really sophisticated stuff!

At home, I rented out a little flat share with my best friend Luke, I sat down, opened up a soda and blanked out a bit. It was 6 p.m. already. Somehow Daniel came back to my mind. “What a nice guy he was,” I thought.

Suddenly, Luke crashed into my room: “Duuuude, you won’t believe what happened today. That idiot from my architecture class arrived to late, tripped and fell on my model! Every fucking piece is broken. I’m glad my prof saw that, so he gave me a free pass on this assignment, but, dude, I was so proud of that thing…”

I was a bit flustered by him entering my room so abruptly, yet he had my sympathies. I’d also be really angry if something like this would happen to one of my drawings. “Calm down man, I know it sucks. You’ll be good. Come sit down and have a drink with me.”

Luke turned around, went to the kitchen, and came back with two beers. He jumped on my couch and we chatted a bit. I was glad to have such a good friend. We’d met at school. In 9th grade, our class groups were mixed, and Luke was sat down next to me. We immediately clicked. We’ve been inseparable since. Luke too was into men, so we had that thing going for us as well. We were close to making out one day, but quickly realised that this wouldn’t work out. It was just like the situation with my father’s best friend. I’d absolutely name my child after Luke one day, if ever possible—but I’d never sleep with him.

I told Luke about my day, and about the encounter with Daniel. I showed Luke my new fountain pen. “Was he cute?” he asked. I hadn’t thought about that actually. Daniel was about 1,85m tall, had dark blue eyes and brown-reddish short hair. I drew a short sketch of him and showed him to Luke. Luke replied: “Well if he’s anywhere close to your drawing, I’d absolutely go for it, he seems cute!”

I put my drawing away to give it to Daniel – whenever I was going to see him again… Luke left, and I started to really think about the possibility of having a chance with Dan. “He kind of did hit on me,” I convinced myself.

The coming days were pretty normal. I didn’t see Daniel, though. I really wanted to give him my little new drawing. In another French class about basically obsolete grammatical tenses (yeah, French has got a few) I started doodling away again using my cool new pen. My front seat was empty, so I drew a picture of Dan, as if he were sitting there, his back half-way turned to me. I drew his funny hair, his shoulders, and for a laugh, I drew him holding his junk in his left hand. I made sure it was up to my liking, of course.

I giggled a bit, unaware of my professor strolling next to my seat. “Mais qu’est-ce que vous dessinez là? Montrez!” he said.

I didn’t know why I reacted like a small child trying to hide something without considering all options – what immediately came into my 26-year-old panicked mind was to quickly tear my drawing out of my scrapbook, and stuff it into my mouth.

My professor burst into laughter, as did the rest of the class. I swallowed the paper and started laughing myself – quite embarrassed though. “Je suis désolé, j’ai dessiné quelque chose à manger, et hop, maintenant je n’ai plus faim!” I said.

My little joke, awkward as it was, somewhat lightened the mood. My professor replied: “Ben, ces jeunes et leurs nouveaux régimes….” I ignored his comment on my eating habits—because I was so glad the lesson was over. My other classmates giggled away, some patted me on the back and said somewhat sarcastic remarks – but none of them really mean.

On my way home again, I felt a bit weird. But I assumed I was just a bit tired, and still recovering from embarrassment. I took out my apartment keys, and had some trouble actually putting them into the lock. It felt very unnatural all of a sudden. Confused, I went into my kitchen, and fetched another can of soda from the fridge. Luke wasn’t home, I’d have liked to chat a bit. I sat down on my couch, and nearly screamed in frustration, as I was unable to properly open my beverage. It was as if I had unlearned it. After several attempts, I got it open, and almost spilled the drink all over me. I took 3 large gulps, and set it aside on the table.

I took out my pen and started drawing. And oh boy, did I draw. Every parent would have been proud as to how beautiful this picture, obviously drawn by a 2-year-old, was. I shook my head – Why on earth did I manage to draw so bad all of a sudden? I would have messed up a stick-drawing, if I were to draw one. Out of frustration, I went to the bathroom to splash some water in my face. I took a closer look into the bath mirror, and observed my hairlines. They were somewhat different. I took another close look – yep – still not as they should be.

“What a weird weird day,” I said. Sitting down on the corner of my tub, I toyed with the idea of taking a bath. I undressed – clumsily – and started the water. I had real trouble opening my belt. Once I got rid of my trousers, I undid my briefs and lay down in the soothing warm water. I closed my eyes and dreamt up some little kinky things about Dan.

When I opened my eyes again, I was greeted by an erect dick that was certainly not mine. I let out a very audible “What the hell”. Between my legs now was something I would never have imagined on me. Previously ~15cm x 4cm, this “thing” between my legs certainly was a lot bigger. I grabbed a shampoo bottle, and held it next to my equipment. It was definitely bigger. I quickly got up, soaking wet, and sprinted into my room in search for a measuring tape. After some rummaging, I found one in my drawer. I quickly put it next to my dick. It measured 19cm x 6cm. I sat down. “Holy fuck” I said, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, how the fuck!?” And then it hit me. I looked at my left hand. “I’m fucking left-handed now, since I drew him holding it with his left hand – dick included! Also, I got this messy hair.”

I quickly got up and went to the desk. I picked up my fountain pen. “That’s your fault, now, isn’t it?”. After several attempts with my new “left-handedness”, I drew my two hands and marked the right one as dominant. I again swallowed down the small piece of paper. After a minute, I felt a bit dizzy, and checked if I was “normal” again. I drew a bit and – shockingly – it worked. I was in absolute awe. Daniel gave me the best gift ever.

Wham! I heard a scream outside of my room. I quickly threw a towel around my hips and looked outside. Luke got home and slipped and fell on one of my water puddles. And it didn’t look good. He screamed in pain.

“Are you okay?” I blurted out.

“Do I look okay?” he screamed. Upon closer inspection I saw that his leg was twisted in a very, very abnormal way. “I think I broke my leg” he said.

I panicked. “Call a fucking ambulance,” he groaned. I ran back into my room and looked for my cellphone – but I couldn’t find it. “Fuck, hurry up, this hurts like hell!” Luke screamed.

“Can’t find it!” I went back to Luke, and tried the landline phone. No signal. I watched around – Luke’s accident tore out the cable-work. “Gimme your phone, Luke!” Luke squirmed and took out his phone from his back pocket. The screen was completely shattered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

I went outside and called for help – but there was no response – at all. We lived in a 4-party house; all other people were still at work. I ran back to Luke. “It’s going to be all right. I’m here for you, buddy.” I will never forget the way Luke looked at me in this instant. His expression was so desperate it broke my heart. And then, Luke blacked out.

Without any quicker option left, I ran back into my room, and quickly sketched two legs and feet with “completely healthy” next to it. I scrunched the paper into a small ball, went back to Luke and slapped him awake. “Wake up, man. Wake up. You got to trust me now okay? Do you trust me?”

Luke looked at me, puzzled. “I do, but…”

I stuffed the paper into his mouth, and held it shut. “Swallow,” I said. Luke looked at me in terror. He gulped it down, and I let go of him.

“What in the hell was that?!” he screamed. “Are you fucking insane?!”

“Please, trust me. It will, no, it has to work.”

“What has?” Luke stopped arguing and became calmer. “What, wha…” There was a really nasty scrunching sound, as Luke’s leg turned 180° and healthy again. But at least it appeared it didn’t hurt him. After a few seconds, Luke just sat there, completely dumbfounded. “That felt absolutely disgusting.”

“Are you able to stand up?” I asked.

Luke got up, as if nothing happened at all. He then continued formulating every way possible to express his disbelief for about 5 minutes, hugging and punching me, shuffling his hair like a madman, jumping and laying down. It was adorable. But I really, really felt relieved, I didn’t mean to hurt my best friend in this very stupid way. I apologised about 100 times. And then calmly, he just sat down on the floor. “Explain, please?” he asked.

I sat down right in front of him and replied: “It’s just the best thing to ever happen.”

After I explained him everything in detail, he said: “Never could that be real. Show me.”

We went back in my room, and I sat down at my desk. “What do you want me to draw?” I asked. I don’t know why I asked, I already knew his answer.

“Massive dick, please. You break my leg, I’ll get a new leg back. Especially if you got one as well!”

I laughed. “How massive do you want it?”

“Cucumber size.”

I laughed again. “Coming right up.”

He watched me draw and commented on some details. “Some more veins please – yep, uncut—bigger balls, please. Adjust this angle a bit…”

“Anything special?” I added.

He didn’t know how to respond to that. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you want some special ability or something sensual-related? I can always add stuff—words I mean.”

Luke shook his head. “I just wanna see if it works at all.” Since he was my best friend, I did add some more details nobody would complain about, I guess. Also, I still felt bad about the accident. If it works, he’ll certainly be in his room more often. I finished my drawing, scrunched it into a ball, and gave it to him.

“Here goes nuttin’,” he punned. He went to the bathroom, and I stayed where I was. After a minute or so I started smirking the moment I heard an audible “Duuude”.

Well. And that’s just the beginning.
After about 15 minutes, Luke, almost shyly, opened my door. “It worked. Dude. This is fucking awesome.”

I just smiled back at him. “Enjoy your new equipment!. We both laughed.

Then there was a moment of silence. With the knowledge of what I might be able to do with the pen, our minds raced with things we could try and yet we blanked out by the sheer scope of possibilities.

Luke sat down on my couch. We looked at each other. After a moment he asked, “Have you tried just words?” I didn’t know immediately what he was up to. “I mean, have you tried writing down a sentence, and then see whether it becomes real?”

I agreed I haven’t thought about that. I grabbed a piece of paper. “Well, since you got your end of the bargain, it’s time for me,” I said grinning.

Luke laughed. “Well go ahead!”

I wrote, “I have the biggest dick of all men on the planet.”

When I told Luke he just smirked and said, “Well, all that grandeur just for you—you’ll likely just be a bit bigger than me!”

I swallowed my piece of paper. Nothing happened. Luke, on the other hand, sensed something odd. “Did you add anything you didn’t tell me about?” he asked. I shook my head. We both waited a bit—nothing happened for a while until something started buzzing like crazy.

Ah—there it was. My smartphone had fallen between one of the couch’s cushions. I grabbed it and looked at about 70 notifications from various news-apps I’d installed. “Dick-down crisis”, “Wrath of God”, “Equality for all men” news reports said. There were several live-streams of porn stars who panicked or flat-out were in tears; some prayed to God. Some had already uploaded their “transformation” on different websites. I expected even more backlash, yet seemingly the percentage of men better endowed than 19x6cm wasn’t as high. My statement appeared to have every men’s penis altered in a way it was smaller than mine! I officially now had the biggest one in the world—just not the way I intended it.

I realized that might include present company. “Luke, check your new one, please.”

Luke went to the bathroom and yelled “What the hell?!” When he came back, he said: “Well, it’s like 18,9cm now—that’s about what I had going before.”

I ignored this and simply thought silently, “Okay, so writing a statement does work—but it takes things very literally. I will have to be very careful with that option, perhaps drawing some things might remain the better option.”

“Change it back, Nils!” Luke was saying. The only problem I had was how I’d formulate it. We had all the time in the world, and yet none of it. I had an idea.

“Wait, I have to experiment a bit further,” I said to Luke. I took another piece of paper and drew two boxes next to each other. I drew a stickman in the left, dialling up a number. I named him Daniel. In the other box I drew a stickman with my name next to it, picking up a call. I swallowed my cartoon.

After about a minute, my cell phone rang. I picked it up. It wasn’t the Daniel I thought about, but some Irish guy, very confused. But he said his name was Daniel too. So, there’s that. Still a very literal realisation of my drawing. But this little experiment opened up an entire new scope of possibilities. I hung up and said, “Luke, I have found an entirely new way to help us.” Actions seem to have a priority to appearance. I didn’t become a stickman (phew!). But it also meant that I could draw abstractly and still have a result.

Yet still, we weren’t sure about when all that magic could go wrong. Knowing I might end up with a temporal inconsistency or a case of a time-loop (If I undid my statement, would I know I undid it?) I tried to come up with a more elegant solution.

If I made everybody totally forget the last 15 minutes, that would have such a huge effect, I wouldn’t have wanted to know the outcome. So, this was out of question. Also, it wouldn’t have gotten rid of the media.

If I simply reversed my statement, people would have still known that something odd was happening, so this wouldn’t have worked out as well.

Luke and I discussed. He then looked at me. “I think I might have an idea. But you won’t like it.” He explained, and I took out a big sheet of paper and started drawing another comic.

In the comic, I made everybody except us oblivious to all the dick altering stuff, without altering the timeline. People wouldn’t even be able to think about it. I made sure every piece of media was altered or erased and made people oblivious to that as well. It was our only option. And finally, I undid my statement by having me cough up only the piece of paper I wrote it on. Why? If I simply undid it, I would never have been able to use it again. Also, it would have been a paradox. You can’t have and not have the biggest dick on earth at the same time. God knows what would happen then. It was a long shot, but I tried. I got in the zone, looking troubled and stressed, and finished my drawing. Luke looked at me with an expression of hope and worry.

After swallowing this comic, I started feeling sick. Eventually, as I probably made all noises a cat would do throwing up a furball and coughed out the offending piece of paper—super-unpleasant by the way—Luke felt his dick growing back. No feedback from the media whatsoever. Everything gone. It worked. I sighed. “Let’s hope I’ll never have to do that again…” In retrospect, there would have been other options to solve the issue, but without it, I wouldn’t have figured out this interaction with my drawings.

Luke and I fell on my couch. He giggled, feeling his huge cock flopping around in his boxers. “Glad to have you back,” he said to it.

But I somewhat referred it to me, and started to hug him. “What ever would I do without you?” Luke hugged me back, realizing I’ve been really scared.

“Now,” I said, “at least we know several things now. Words or sentences are taken literally, and use the consumer as the ultimate standard. Pure drawings are quite literal as well, but can be abstract. So specific features are prioritized. Actions have a higher priority to drawn features. Order of consumption matters. Undoing without negating is possible.”

Luke replied: “Quite a lot, but logical in a way. One more thing to test…” He stood up, took the pen himself and wrote “My hair colour will change to light blond” on a piece of paper, and swallowed it.

I panicked a bit. “Man! Don’t rush it! What have you written?” Luke said that I needn’t worry, that he only wanted to change his hair colour. He looked into his mirror, and started frowning. “Okay, so that doesn’t work then. Appears only you can use the pen effectively.”

And somehow, that relieved me. That was something I hadn’t thought about previously. So, I actually was in control. Exciting and scary at the same time.

We both went into the kitchen to grab something to eat and in order to chat a bit about what we should do next. We knew that it was actually not too bad to think a bit before changing things—not only could the consequences be catastrophic. Also where’s the fun in getting everything immediately?

At 6 p.m. Luke stood up and went to meet up with a couple of his friends, with whom I really don’t connect as well as he does. After all, I did need some me-time. “Well, I’ll go grab a few drinks with my boys, I’ll be home verrry late, so don’t do things I wouldn’t do,” Luke said to me with a kinky-ish weird grin.

“You gotta practise … whatever that face was,” I replied. Then he left, and I went back to my room.

And there I was. I stripped down naked and looked at my body. I was about 1,80m tall, and had a pretty normal build. The only bigger thing now was my cock. I sat down and contemplated about what exactly I’d like to draw. Well, I still did want a bigger prick, so I started doodling about, until I found was I was looking for.

I started jerking off, basically saying good-bye to the current form of my already enhanced member. I ran my fingers along my shaft, feeling the extra weight and length I had accidentally added just hours ago and the difference was already remarkable. I shuddered and enjoyed every new centimetre of my bigger prick. Looking at my picture laying ready I was so turned on and in wonder how that might feel that I came hard. Multiple streams of spunk flew across the table in an orgasm so intense, I was quite surprised. “If this rather small change already had this much of an effect…” I thought.

I went back to my drawing, and still added some more details. I added some pubes to my groin, and made my balls look more voluminous. Also, I added some motion lines to highlight its pulsing and rigidity. In theory, this piece of meat would be incredible—but I didn’t add any words to it, just to be safe. I could add something whenever I wanted anyhow. I took a deep breath, scrunched the image into a ball, ate it, and laid down on the couch.

After about a minute, I saw it happening. My cock slowly got hard again, but this time, I could feel every heartbeat, every step of it getting bigger—I guess those motion lines showed their effect. I grabbed it, feeling it pulsate heavily and steadily. With every second that passed, I felt hornier and hornier. This time, I saw it actually happen, which was the biggest turn-on I could have thought of. I grabbed a ruler, and placed it next to my growing member. I was at 21cm now. It now took both my hands. “Fuck, I am going to become so fucking massive,” I thought. The thought of it just made me almost come again.

I slowly jerked off further, but I wanted to experience the full thing before blowing. Every fucking millimetre of my new cock provided me with shocks of pleasure. But I wasn’t done. I measured again. Pulse by pulse, I cracked the 25cm mark. Then 26cm. Then 27cm. My veins were popping out more and more, making my cock look violently hard and heavy. A gush of pre-escaped me, coating my colossal cock and turning me on further and further.

I stood up, and was surprised by how heavy my new equipment already felt. I let my cock flop left to right, up and down, and I started massaging my already bigger balls. I began tensing up my lower body. Every motion, every move just felt powerful. I held my dick up—it was already way past my bellybutton. I sat down again and… yes, I was very able to suck myself off now. I took in my huge head and slowly licked off my own pre. And still, I was growing. Again I measured. I was at 33cm x 6cm now. I might now probably have had owned the biggest cock in human history.

Then with a final push building up like another orgasm, I felt my prick reaching its final form. As I felt my cum reaching my super-thick and long member, it pulsated harder and harder. I was climaxing every part of the way, but each pulse just made my cock longer and thicker – at 36,5cm x 6,7cm my transformation halted and I came violently. I felt a massive pump leaving the base of my monster, slowly but steadily making its way to the top. With both hands, I further stroked and stroked my giant dick and unreal amounts of spunk splattered against my body, my face, basically the entire room. I arched my back and rolled up my eyes out of pure ecstasy, pumping out more and more—feeling every drop tunneling its way up my shaft to be released with incredible force. After about a minute, I started sucking off my giant dick again, which slowly halted spurting more cum everywhere. I took in every last drop of my own enhanced cum and then head-on fell back onto my couch.

All I could muster was a simple “Fuck me”, as my cock slowly deflated back to a more manageable size. Now soft, I measured up at about 20cm x 5 cm. I was bigger soft than I was hard before. My prick lay dormant on my orange-sized balls, as I then also became pretty sleepy. I hid my pen and decided I’d have plenty of time to fool around more.

Little did I know a “prank” next day would actually make my life a lot easier.

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