You should have known the pill was a trap the moment the package arrived at your door in an unmarked cardboard box smothered in packaging tape. At the very least, you should have known it was some sort of scam that you had just blown well over a hundred dollars on and cut your losses right there.

It had been too good to be true. Even though the ad had seemed like the kind of cringe-y click-bait that you had gotten used to on the internet, the website it had taken you to had actually looked respectable. There had even been testimonials from guys that said that they had achieved the size that they had always wanted, with before and after pictures that made it difficult to dispute the claims. Not to mention the hundreds of comments that thanked the producers for improving their sex lives dramatically.

Maybe if you’d had a keener eye for detail, you would have noticed that none of the comments mentioned women in any sort of way. The majority of them talked about "partners" or "significant others" or some other non-committal, non-gendered term if not outright using "boyfriend." That should have tipped you off that something wasn’t quite right, but by the time you reached the comments at the bottom of the page, you had already seen the testimonials and made up your mind.

You knew, intellectually that there was no way a single pill could possibly have all the miraculous effects that this one claimed to have. You suspected that it was probably just some rhino horn powder or ground tiger teeth in a capsule, but by then you were desperate. You were dissatisfied with the endowment that you had been born with. And you had nothing to lose but money. Or so you thought.

You’ve been waking up in the middle of the night for a short while now. Sweating. Horny. Leaking. At first you could solve it by just jerking off and going back to sleep, but that hasn’t worked for a few days now. You’ve had to resort to fucking your hole with your fingers, paying less and less attention to the beautiful cock that you’d managed to grow.

The lack of sleep has started to cut into your work ethic. You try your best, but it’s hard to concentrate when you’re only half-awake, a pleasant, fuzzy fog of arousal wrapped around your brain, making it difficult to think of anything other than playing with your hole. With every passing day you lose more and more of yourself, your brain melting into a puddle of lust and arousal that can do little more than slosh around uselessly in your skull.

When your boss calls you in for a meeting and says that he is sick of your lack of productivity, the only thing you can think to do to try and keep your job is present your ass for him to fuck. You slide your slacks over your perky muscle butt and shake it for him, the string of the thong riding up your ass crack.

He is taken aback at first, even offended. But you just moan desperately and reach back, sliding your fingers into your muscle cunt. Your boss then decides to take you up on your offer, walking up to the windows of the office and closing the blinds to ensure privacy. He locks the door after telling his secretary that he is not to be disturbed. Then, he mounts you.

He fucks you brutally. He has no mercy, no patience. But you like it. You love the sensation of his fingernails digging into your waist, his cock pummeling your guts. You moan and squirm and writhe, your massive cock completely erect but otherwise neglected. He pumps his load into you and you cum all over his floor. He makes you clean it up with your tongue and then promptly fires you anyway.

He makes you crawl out of his office naked, with cum still dripping between your thighs. It’s humiliating, but it’s also arousing, making your cock hard as you collect your things from your desk. You get into your car and drive home, eager to play with your hole some more.

Eventually, without the ability to pay rent, you are evicted from your apartment. There are men waiting for you when you stumble out in nothing but your thong. They grab you and bundle you into an unmarked black van. You hear them speaking, but the words come in through one ear and out the other. They tell each other that you’re ready. That you’re coming with them to the Keep. And that you’re probably too stupid now to even know what’s happening.

They’re right, of course. Not that you have the capacity to know that at this point. But you’re scared. And confused. At least until one of your captors takes out his cock and you happily suck on it until they take you to one of their facilities, which would be your new home until you are bought by your new master.