Peter's Little Peter

Bye Bye Baby Dick

The Extender 2 looks like a Medieval instrument of torture. Kind of like the rack, except it's for your dick. But instead of laying out a person on a table designed to stretch them until there arms and legs come out of their sockets, the Extender 2 tugs, pulls, and stretches your dick into "a penis a man can be proud of." At least, that's what the marketing material promises.

I'm not sure how the Extender 1 worked, but the Extender 2 seems pretty straightforward. The device is about the size of a shoe box, except it's open on all four sides. In the center of the padded rubber frame is a tray where I am to place my penis. Hanging from the frames are a series of cords that I can loop around me penis. Once a cord is firmly secured, I can add tension to the cord by turning a crank. It's kind of like tuning a guitar, except your dick is at the end of the string.

As I turn the first crank, I feel a tugging at the tip of my penis. It's pleasant at first, but that's my clue that I need to increase the tension. As Jack Hammer, the muscle-bound host of the instructional video says, "A little pain, for a lot of gain."

So I turn the crank another revolution, and this time the tugging feels like someone is pulling hard on my dick. The sensation doesn't feel good, but it doesn't exactly hurt either. It's sort of like my dick is Excalibur, the sword in the stone, and someone is trying to free it. I know they can pull all they want, but it's going to stay stuck in the stone.

Still, my penis has never looked longer. It's easily five inches. But it's a narrow five, because the Extender 2 can't address length and girth at the same time, according to the instructions. Or, as Jack Hammer says, "Bone wasn't built in a day." It's a terrible history pun, but perhaps, I think, the Extender 3 will improve on its predecessor by offering length and girth in the same session.

For now, though, I'm focused on length, because what Audrey felt between her legs was a seven-inch cucumber, and I'm just two inches shy of that goal. So I turn the crank once more. 

This time, it hurts. It hurts a lot. It hurts like someone is trying to rip my dick off. Except my dick is no longer a sword encased in stone, it's a just a regular dick that feels like it's hanging on by a thread.

But as I look down, I have to smile. My dick is huge. OK, it's not huge. But it's at least six inches, which means it's bigger than average, according to the data Elroy shared. Of course, it's as skinny as a tooth brush, but it's as long as a tooth brush too, and that's what counts.

Now, all I have to do is wait. Jack Hammer promises that I'll see results "right away." But he also says that each session should last a minimum of thirty minutes. So I set my clock on my phone and try to think of something to do to pass the time.

But after what feels like ten minutes, I can't take it anymore. The pain is excruciating, and I have to keep looking down to make sure my penis is still attached. It's still there - thank god! - but its starting to turn blue. Which is not a good look, unless you're really into Smurfs cosplay.

I check my phone to see how much longer I have.

Twenty-seven minutes!

This thing has only been on my dick for three minutes, and already I'm turning blue and it hurts like hell.

I try to breathe. I try to remind myself about the wise words of Jack Hammer: "A little pain, for a lot of gain." I try to think about Audrey. Specifically, how pleased she'll be to see my big penis. And when that doesn't work, I think about how disappointed she'll be to see my tiny penis, and how she'll know that I lied to her with a cucumber in my pants. 

I've got to keep going, I tell myself. I've got to endure this pain somehow. This is the price of love, I tell myself. 

But then I check the clock.

I have twenty-six minutes left. 

Yikes! I went down a rabbit hole of misery to take my mind of the feeling that my dick is being yanked off, and all the distraction that train of thought bought me was one lousy minute? 

I try to think about Audrey. I try to think about her lips. And the way she always smells so good. What is that smell, I wonder? She must use all of the shower products, not just the soap. I try to think about her smile. And when all else fails, I try to think about her boobs. Her beautiful boobs. 

But none of that helps. And when I reach for my phone once again, I see that only thirty seconds have elapsed.

I can't take it anymore.

I just can't.

So I reach for the crank, but it won't turn the other way. 

I take a deep breath and try again. But once again, the crank is stuck.

I tried a third time, then a fourth. The crank won't budge.

There's nothing left to do now, but panic.

Except, my panic attack doesn't last long because the pain is so intense. And my dick is turning a deeper shade of blue that's almost purple. It's like what I imagine Barney's dick would look like.

But I can't think about that now. 

I need to get this torture device off my penis. 

But how?

I look around my room to see if I have a saw handy. It's a crazy idea, because of course I don't have a saw in my bedroom. There's not even a saw in my house because my Dad isn't the kind of guy who hangs around building things on the weekend, he's the kind of lawyer who goes into the office to bill hours. 

Besides, I don't want a saw anywhere near my penis, I realize. And that's when it hits me. I can't think straight. Not with my dick in this trap. I need help. 

My parents are out of the question. 

The thought of calling Audrey is so terrifying that it makes me reconsider calling my parents. 

I could call 911, but I'm pretty sure they'd end up calling my parents. 

And that's when I realize I have only one option.

So I reach for my phone and dial Elroy.

The good news is that he picks up on the first ring. The bad news is that he's mad about the way our previous conversation ended. I did hang up on him, after all. 

"Did you call to apologize?" Elroy asks.

"I called because my dick is stuck in this contraption, and I think it's broken," I say through gritted teeth.

"What? Are you OK? You sound hurt."

"I am hurt," I say. "My dick is broken."

"Where are you?"

"My house. Come quick. Bring a saw."

Then I pass out from the pain.

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