The perils of fair trade

by Dream Big

It seemed like a good deal: a little height for a little more cock, especially if you have too much of one and not enough of the other. But even a fair trade can go wrong if you’re not careful.

The perils of fair trade, #1 2,976 words Added Jun 2019 9,313 views 4.8 stars (13 votes)

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I was fucking around on the internet, looking at smut sites—hot twinks, muscle boys, beefy bros, the usual stuff, when I accidentally clicked on an ad.

Dude, you know I’m super careful about that stuff. I really did just miss with the mouse.

Anyway, it launched this popup thing and it was kind of a chat window. That’s how it started. And I was just in a horned-up mood and looking for something kinky to get off on.

FAIRTRADER999: Hi! I’m here to fulfill your fantasies.

> Yeah right

FAIRTRADER999: It’s a simple thing—you tell me what you want, and I trade you something for it, if I can.

> is this some kind of RP chat thing?

FAIRTRADER999: Seriously, lay it on me. What do you really want?

> heh, I’m good.

FAIRTRADER999: ….

FAIRTRADER999: No, you aren’t. You’re just okay, and you’re not satisfied with your life. It’s okay, everyone has something they’d love to change. Most people never get the chance.

I thought about it for a moment. Maybe it was some kind of survey thing for the porn sites?

FAIRTRADER999: It is completely confidential. Only you and I will know what you tell me and what deal we make.

I thought about my last date, a real shit who’d accused me of false advertising, just because I’m 6’6 and 280 pounds of muscle. Big feet, big hands… but I had a pretty disappointing cock. Three inches, jumping to four and a bit when I was really horny. My balls were plenty big, but that only made my dick look smaller. All my testosterone seemed to be busy elsewhere.

What the hell, I thought. Maybe they’ll make some hot video or story about it.

FAIRTRADER999: Last chance.

> Okay, I want a bigger dick.

FAIRTRADER999: How big are we talking?

> At least twice as big as I have now. Big.

FAIRTRADER999: 8 inches is well above average.

I didn’t even notice that 8 inches *was* twice my current size.

FAIRTRADER999: And what would you be willing to trade to get that?

> what do you want?

FAIRTRADER999: That’s not the game we’re playing here. Think of it like character creation in a video game, and you have only so many points. One slider goes up, but another has to go down somewhere to make up for it.

Was there something I really would trade for a bigger dick? I liked being in shape. But honestly, the height was a problem more often than not. Hell, I’d happily ditch an inch or two to gain it down below. I’d still be a big guy, but with an average dick. It was fun to think about.

FAIRTRADER999: Did you decide?

> I’d trade some height for some length.

FAIRTRADER999: Just length?

Oh, I hadn’t thought about that. I’d want the girth, too.

FAIRTRADER999: I mean if you really want a skinny dick that’s fine by me

> Okay, overall body size for dick size.

FAIRTRADER999: I see. And do you have a specific amount in mind, or did you just want to trade whenever you want to?

This was a fun one.

> Let’s leave it open.

FAIRTRADER999: ….

FAIRTRADER999: ….

FAIRTRADER999: ….okay.

> so now what

FAIRTRADER999: Bargain struck. Deal made. You got it bro.

> no change here dude

FAIRTRADER999: You just have to activate it. Just say what you’re trading and it’ll happen.

> so just say “trade x for y?”

FAIRTRADER999: You can say what you want to gain, or what you want to give. The rest will just happen.

FAIRTRADER999: You’d say something like “I want another inch of dick” and it’ll take care of the rest.

> heh fun. shame it’s bullshit.

FAIRTRADER999: ….try it.

I got a bit of a shiver up my spine. Would I really do it?

Fuck it.

“I want another inch of dick.”

Suddenly everything buzzed and swirled, and the oddest sensation hit my whole body. My dick surged for attention. And sure enough, there was another inch of it to work with!

Oh my god it felt amazing—and after I’d pounded one out, I measured.

I’d added an inch to my junk and 3/4 to my girth, and it had only cost my an inch of height, and about 4 pounds of weight.

I considered it a fair trade… but of course, I wanted more.

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I raced over to the chat window, but it was gone. I tried to reload the window and the browser crashed. My browser history ended with the last porn site, and there was no sign of the weird ad that I’d nudged.

But there I sat, with a 5-inch dick, looking pretty fucking amazing.

Would it work again?

“I want another half inch of dick length”

Again, the swirling and buzzing sensation. it felt amazing and I couldn’t stop. I think my balls were a little bigger, too, but it’s just as likely that I was crazy turned on.

“I want another half inch of dick length!”

Again, that amazing sensation and I couldn’t help myself. I came all over the place.

When I caught my breath, though, I realized I had better see what I’d done to myself.

I was up to 6 inches, 4.5 around. The proportions were consistent. I was well into average range.

But I was down to 75 inches and I’d lost ten pounds.

I could live with this. 6’3 and 270 was still pretty big….. definitely a fair trade from my perspective.

Maybe just a little more.

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I experimented for a while. I’d figured out that I had to say the words out loud and be explicit, and that the trade seemed to be best when I said what I wanted rather than what I was willing to give up. I didn’t get much when I offered five pounds.

It was a long weekend with no plans, so I didn’t leave the house for three days, but I paced myself pretty well, all things considered. I’d go half an inch longer, then engage in a champion masturbation session that left me glowing for hours. Then I’d go eat, clean up a little, and try to distract myself. I ran some maintenance on my computer and cleaned the bathroom.

By Monday morning, I’d worked my way up to 8 inches, 6 around. I was pleased as punch, and still feeling okay about being 72 inches and 256 pounds. It was almost kinky to wear my own clothing, which now fit me like I was a kid trying on dad’s suit.

I called out sick, intending to go get clothes that fit, and refill the fridge.

I resolved to allow myself smaller boosts, a quarter inch at a go, and used my meager excel skills to try to get ahead of the curve. I hadn’t quite figured out the formula that produced the results I was getting.

My Tuesday night, I’d finally got a handle on it….and the damage was clear. I was up to 9.5 inches by 7, but had dwindled to just under 68 inches and 203.5 pounds. 10 inches, 75 pounds gone. I was a shrimp, but still looked fantastic. And my dick was huge, even bigger looking on my now short but well-muscled frame.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

I hadn’t gone to work and had been subsisting on delivery food. To tell the truth, I wasn’t sure how much control I had, by Thursday. Wednesday had gone pretty well, but my math must have been off, because the weight was disappearing even faster. Probably tied to my height somehow.

Because I hit 10 inches by 8.25 sometime around 8pm Wednesday night. And by then, I was only 5’4 and 180 pounds. I was over a foot and a hundred pounds below where I’d started…..but I’d also more than doubled my dick size. My balls, too, had kept pace since I passed 8 inches, and I could tell the ratios were off. I’d find myself with endless energy, and I tried to work out to release some of it—to do anything beyond masturbate constantly. But increasingly, my short, super-muscled self began to turn my crank and I’d have to stop and whack off again, and then I’d start wondering if just a little bit more would be okay. It was relentless, and as my body dwindled, my dick took up more of my mind, occupying every thought.

On and on I went, using all my willpower to pace myself, but still relentlessly increasing my dick at the expense of my overall size.

I was in such a haze that I didn’t realize how out of kilter things had gone, and so I didn’t come to grips with one fact until it was too late. See, each small increment gained reduced my height and weight by a percentage. And the more small increments involved, the greater the reduction because it involved more percentages being applied, building on each other.

If I’d just asked for an immediate boost, once or twice, I’d have been much less screwed up. I’ve run the numbers many times since then. It was the little boosts, the little fixes, that were costing me, just like the thousands more it costs to buy a house over 30 years instead of 20.

By Friday, I had traded up to a footlong; my immense meat was 9 inches around and my balls were huge. But I was just shy of 61 inches tall, and a still muscular 124, which looked pretty good on my tiny frame. I was probably fired, if the angry blinking of my message indicator was any judge.

Saturday I lost all control after desperation drove me to a camera site, and I ended up showing off for some spare cash. I made $420 in tips proving that my giant dick was real, even licking the tip a few times. But that quickly turned to self-sucking, and cool thousand bucks in tips, half of it from one guy.

By that night, I was exhausted, but resolved to measure myself again. I’d lost track.

To my shock, I was up to 13.5 inches by 10. I hadn’t worn any kind of clothes in days; they’d long since ceased to be remotely relevant, either to my needs or my new size. But when I measured against the wall, I came up short—really short.

55.6 inches, and only 82 pounds—to be fair, all muscle. Well, muscle and dick.

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Sunday was, well, yesterday.

I kept going. There wasn’t much point otherwise, and I kept telling myself I was near to cracking the formula for how it all worked.

By afternoon, I’d simply gotten angry, and boosted myself a half inch each time. I was, by this time, gargantuan.

18 inches. 13.5 around. My dick was nearly half my size overall, and getting bigger. It was a chore to lug around, and would likely have been impossible were I not still ridiculously muscular.

Well, as muscular as 49-inch tall man who weighed about 58 pounds can be. Fuck, I was nearly hobbit-sized now. Though I looked more stocky and dwarf-ish. The ratio of testosterone was doing a number on me too, and if anything I looked amazingly fit. If you didn’t see me in context, I’d be the hottest freak you ever saw—- provided you didn’t have a ruler handy.

That’s when I finally ran the right set of numbers, and figured out that all the little increments had been siphoning my size faster than bigger increments would have. I resolved to test the theory.

19 inches, by far the largest human cock in existence, and over 14 inches around….and it had cost me roughly an inch of height and just two pounds.

20 inches—now hopelessly above my head, and 15 inches around—and I had only lost another three quarters of an inch. 47.25 inches high, and 53 pounds.

I was so hopelessly in over my head it wasn’t funny. I managed to hold out for a few days (mostly because I was exhausted by constant self-sex and running out of new ways to make it interesting, but also because fear was lending a new edge to my troubles.)

The webcam adventures were not helping; getting a few thousand bucks to show off your monster cock and tight bod (always against a blank beige wall so the scale was off) was fun up until the regulars began calling me fake. That’s when I pulled up a beer bottle, a tape measure, and a ruler, and on live cam, proved it.

My height, first. By now I was 42 inches even. I weighed only 43 pounds, and despite my muscles I was a tiny thing. And I had a 24 inch penis, 18 inches in girth. It was wider than my waist.

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I broke down then, live on camera. What had I done to myself?

Private messages began to pop up. Mostly variations of FAKE and NICE SPECIAL EFFECTS and LOOKS SHOPPED. I turned off the camera, but left the chat on. A few tips trickled in anyway.

But then one message stood out.

SXYFRK111: Hey man, you okay? How is that even real?

> I made a series of poor decisions

SXYFRK111: Really That’s crazy man

> tell me about it. fuck I don’t know what to do.

SXYFRK111: …

SXYFRK111: …what if you went further?

> guess I’m already half dick huh

SXYFRK111: there must be some limit

> I was fucking 6’6 when this started

SXYFRK111: seriously? OMG

SXYFRK111: …

SXYFRK111: …

SXYFRK111: I’ll give you 5 grand for a private show.

Fuck. I couldn’t exactly work anymore. Or go out. In two weeks I’d ruined my life….what choice did I have?

SXYFRK111: I’m serious. Here.

(PING)

Five thousand dollars popped in.

SXYFRK111: I have plenty. Go private. I’ll give you 10 thousand to get an inch bigger. Can you do that? Fuck, direct camera, live on screen, I’ll give you 10k right now to grow half an inch bigger. It’s fucking hot.

> I don’t know

SXYFRK111: 10 grand.

Hey, money’s money.

Half an inch in dick cost me almost another inch of height. Right there on camera.

SXYFRK111: FUCK THAT WAS HOT. Do it again

> you said more money was available. I don’t know how to reverse this, so I need a lot.

SXYFRK111: …okay

SXYFRK111: I’m fucking loaded and you’re hot. Here. $100k per half inch you gain.

When I hit 26 inches, I asked for a raise. By that time, I was only 39 inches, and 39 pounds. My muscle hadn’t survived the transition, but I still looked lean and tight, and I was a hairy little bastard. My balls were outsized and approaching the size of my head, and my giant dick towered well above my head. I could barely reach it.

> a million. can you do a million? I’m so fucking tiny, I will never survive without the money….

SXYFRK111: …

SXYFRK111: …yeah. Fuck it. Do it.

By the end of the night, I was done. I had to be. I had millions in the bank. The last straw had been the kicker.

A cool ten million to “even things out”.

And there I stood, a millionaire—but one that was only 34.5 inches high, and weighed only 32 pounds. Attached to a 35-inch dick that weighed almost as much. In fact, it was probably heavier than me and it would be fairer to say that I was attached to it. My normal life was long since over, but I did finally meet SXYFRK111. He’s into size stuff, and he himself is about 7 feet tall and really buff, if a little thicker around the middle than I used to prefer.

He’s basically set me up for life in exchange for occasional sex, but I finally have the self control not to go any bigger. I mean, I need help to walk around on this fucker, but SXYFREAK111 – “Al”—is a real sweet heart and he’s loaded, and I think he loves me. He’s got all sorts of inventive ways for us to get freaky with each other.

But I wonder: what would I give to get my size back?

The perils of fair trade, #1 2,976 words Added Jun 2019 9,313 views 4.8 stars (13 votes)

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