Before you even begin to read this story, know that this is extremely M-rated.

If you are still experiencing puberty of any kind, get out now. I don't even know if I actually wrote this, or if this was just some terrible nightmare I had while a) stoned, b) wasted, c) hopped up on the Z…you know, Zappos… or d) all of the above.

All I know is, I'm deeply insane.

And so is Aina for encouraging such ridiculousness!

But I love her for it, of course.

Whether you'll still love me after the crimes I've committed, however, is another story completely.

ANYWAY, the story:

This was another unofficial – VERY UNOFFICIAL – entry written for the Once Upon a Shadowland Challenge for February…

The fairytale I selected this time is: Pinocchio (obviously.)

Try to enjoy.

And once again, I'm deeply sorry…

– P –


– P –

Seventeen years ago…

'How could you have been so stupid?' Mr. Slater snapped.

Holding the newborn to her chest, Mrs. Slater scowled at him crossly. 'Now really, Maximus. You're going to wake the baby!'

He stood in the doorway of their elaborately decorated sitting room; his wife fresh from the hospital after having given birth to a little boy. On her lap rested his birth certificate, which was currently the reason for Mr. Slater's rage.

'I just don't understand!' he cried, woeful. 'Emily…how could you call him that? Did you learn nothing from my own...merchandise?' His eyes flickered disparagingly down to his crotch, and his wife groaned. She'd heard this boast many times before. 'Big men need big names, in order to have big...egos! Take my name for example,' he shrugged. 'Maximus. The Maximum! It can't get any bigger than that, so accordingly, I went to great efforts to live up to my name.'

From behind his handle-bar moustache, he shot Mrs. Slater a very indulgent grin. This disappeared with a flash, moments later. 'But you went ahead and named the little bastard...PAUL?!'

'It's biblical!' she said defensively. 'The neighbours will approve.'

'It means "small!"' he roared. "You're condemning him to a lifetime of mediocre manhood, Emily! Are you that cruel, woman? To emasculate him at birth?'

Mrs. Slater sighed. 'I suppose you're right...' she pouted. 'I was foolish...'

'This is what happens when women get are allowed to think,' Mr. Slater grunted, sending her a furious look. 'Next they'll be allowed to vote.'

'We are allowed to vote,' she pointed out in irritation.

Scandalised, he kicked a cushion into the blazing fireplace. 'That's the last straw!' he growled raucously. 'Emily! Bring the boy! We'll put a stop to this nonsense! We're taking him to...the Blue Fairy.'

She gasped. 'Maximus, no! He's - he's so young!'

Mr. Slater's face was set in hard lines. 'It's the only way,' he said grimly, 'To guarantee him the lifetime of sex he deserves, Emily. He's a Slater for God's sake! We need it more than the average man! Do you want him to die? What kind of a mother are you?'

Sadly, she shook her head.


And so...they went to see...the Blue Fairy...

– P –

'There's nothing you can do to change his name?' the father lamented in absolute misery. Buff - for that was his name, although on the streets, the name "Blue Fairy" had been circulating, changed from the original nickname, "Big Ugly Fat Faggot" - gave Mr. Slater a grave look with his one good eye.

'Nope.' He scratched his nethers, and Mrs. Slater wrinkled her nose.

'It doesn't plan on...touching the boy, right Maximus...?' she asked delicately, shuffling on the little wooden stool she was sitting on. Across Buff's derelict apartment floor, a cockroach scurried past her foot and she all but shrieked in horror. She glared at Mr. Slater accusingly. 'You never told me it was unhygienic! What if he gives my little baby Paulie a cold, or the syphilis?'

Mr. Slater sent her a withering look, and Mrs. Slater knew she would be forced to yet another night of no happy endings from her greedy husband. He turned back to Buff. 'So...I've heard that you have...other talents.' He winked a little.

'If you are referring to the word "faggot" in my nickname…' Buff waggled his eyebrows, and Maximus dry retched. 'No! No, sir, I am not! I only meant that I've heard you...grant wishes!'

'If you ditch Dollface over there,' Buff jerked his head at Mrs. Slater, who held little Paulie even closer to her breast in indignation, 'I'll grant you any favour you like, honey-buns...'

Offended, Mr Slater smacked him smartly across the face with a white glove. 'I challenge you to a duel! To the death, sir!'

'For Pete's sake, Maximus,' Mrs. Slater scowled ferociously. 'Put your silly glove away and get on with it.'

Sheepishly, he shoved it back down his pants and made his request. 'Please, Blue Fairy...I wish more than anything that my Sonny Jim grows up to bang some of the most bodacious babes with his brontosaurus boner! I can't have his French snail letting the family name down!' he concluded gruffly. 'I mean...Paul? A sissy name if I ever heard one!'

'You wish for me to...give your son an Empire State?'

Mr. Slater nodded eagerly. 'Oh, would you? I'll pay anything for my Paul's new Long John Silver! Name your price!'

'Well...' Buff's gaze raked seductively down Mr. Maximus Slater's large body, resting on a certain location of interest. 'I'd love to see your...namesake...'

Mr. Slater swelled in affront. 'W-What…?'

'A quick flash of Flash Gordon, and your wish is my command,' Buff chuckled eagerly.

'Oh, get on with it,' Mrs. Slater spat. 'You showed me within three minutes of knowing you, Maximus. After I told you we'd run out of hot dogs for our buns, and you said you could provide me with one of your–'

'All right!' Mr. Slater shrilled, shoving his pants down.

And Buff gasped...

'Oh, Mr. Slater...' he fell to his knees in worship. 'They should erect a shrine to you...but then, you already did...'

Purple faced, he yanked his trousers back up, securing them in place. 'Do we have a deal, Blue Faggot?'

'Fairy,' Buff's nostrils flared. His eyes still danced from the miraculous visions of Mr. Slater's superior phallus. 'And yes, Maximiser, we have a deal.'

Suddenly, his eyes glowed a startling blue, and Mrs. Slater squealed in terror. Baby Paul wriggled in her tight hold. Buff drew closer to the boy, extending a long finger to his forehead.

Mrs. Slater winced. She strongly vaguely suspected faecal matter under his fingernails.

'It is my will...' he whispered enigmatically, 'That this boy's dark materials shall always extend in times of doubt...should anyone question him, his untruths will turn into the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God...'

'What does that even mean?' Mr. Slater snapped. 'This better be worth it, Blue Fatso!'

'FAIRY!' Buff whined. 'And it means, my good man, that young Paul's schlong will become long when he lies.'

'…Oh!' Mr. Slater exclaimed, satisfied. 'Well. That's all right then.'

Mrs. Slater scowled bitterly. 'This is completely chauvinistic, Maximus! Honestly! Next you'll be wishing for my breasts to enlarge when I lie.' She was being sarcastic.

Mr. Slater's eyes glittered, and he spun back to Buff excitedly.

'How would you feel about another squiz, old chap?'

– P –

Seventeen years and twenty inches later…

Paul Randolph-Rodney Slater - or, "Randy Rod" as he came to be known - was his father's pride and joy. At only seventeen years of age, Paul had defied all of the baby names websites who proclaimed his name to mean "small," "of little stature," "humble"…

He'd set a new standard for man across the globe.

His father called him his little Paulnocchio - using the term "little" in an ironic way, of course - and was extremely pleased in the knowledge that Paul had successfully porked almost three quarters of the female populace at his high school, the Mission Academy.

The girls there were very receptive to Paul's mission. There's just something about Catholic schools...they're either praying hard, or praying for hardness.

But that was neither hither nor thither.

Ever since the poor boy could learn to speak - and therefore lie - he'd discovered he'd had an extraordinary power: whenever he bent the truth even a little, his anaconda hissed just that little bit more. The slightest lie was an automatic ticket to Longville. He took the Mile High Club to new heights...pun intended, naturally.

His father had sat him down on the brink of puberty, when his wonderful Wookie had begun to become fully loaded.

'Son,' his father had said with a satisfied air, 'We stand here at a crossroad of life...and I think it's finally time to tell you the truth...about your randy rod.'

And so he'd told him everything. Well, he hadn't told him the conditions of his marvellous deal with the Blue Fairy - in fact, he'd given young Paul the impression that he'd been a woman, which had made Paul even more impressed with his father's conquests.

He'd explained then what happened when Paul lied - something the boy had kind of worked out by now - and that only the truth would return him to, er, his inferior form.

'Now, my boy...' Mr. Slater had ruffled his eleven-year-old's hair affectionately, 'You've heard of the saying, "With great power, comes great responsibility," right?'

'Like in Spiderman!' Paul had piped up excitedly.

His father had grinned.

'Well, my son...that's complete bullshit. In your case, with great power comes the ability to come! Paul, you have the world at your feet! And oh, the women! So many women...your only responsibility is to make those women come to you. When the news of your precious prick spreads across the land, they will come. And you, in turn, will too.'

The boy's eyes widened. 'Father, I don't understand...'

Mr. Slater rose to his feet.

'Tell me a fib, Paul.'

The boy pouted. 'You tell me not to lie.'

'I'm telling you to lie now! At times of great need...a lie is your only hope, my son...'

Feebly, Paul mumbled, 'I really like Mom's new haircut...'

A familiar tingling happened down below. Paul gulped nervously, blinking. Suddenly, there was a bulge that appeared somewhere near his kneecap.

Mr. Slater just sniffled, trying to keep the tears in his eyes from falling. His face creased in paternal pride like no other. 'Now, that's m'boy!'

But back to the present.

Paul had been dating the coveted, heavenly goddess Kelly Prescott for four whole days now. With a sexual history as...detailed as his, he had high hopes that this Aphrodite would be the pinnacle of his high-school career - and he, hers. Her name made his ears burn with lust.

Oh, how he wanted her to be a fabulous notch on his belt...one that had to be wrapped around his waist three times, in order to fit them all, if you know what I mean. And now, flattered by his proposal, she'd graciously accepted his offer of a courtship.

However, things were going fairly slow. He was shocked. With a reputation as...colourful as his, he'd expected her knees to snap open like a reverse bear-trap. However, the moment he'd tried, she'd uttered seven poisonous words that made his mouth fall open in shock.

"Not until I get to know you."

It almost made him give up, there and then. Almost. But...Kelly Prescott. It was Kelly! How could he deny himself such an honour? He deserved it! She'd be his highlight, the jewel of his collection.

So he figured a little effort could be dished out. Not that he would go without. Oh, God no. He had plenty of willing candidates waiting on the sidelines, eager to experience the Randy Rod once more.

The current tunnel for his Thomas the Tank Engine (followed by Percy, Edward and Gordon to give a closer approximation) was Susannah Simon. They'd had a pretty intense thing over the summer when they'd met, and like a loyal little puppy dog, she offered her services for whenever he wanted to rekindle the spark they'd had when she was just his little brother's babysitter...

Oh man. That summer? Suze?

Definitely up in the top fifty.

They'd made their break-up pretty public, but behind the scenes? She was open 24/7.

'I can't be too long,' she said excitedly, trying to play hard to get and failing rather miserably. 'I've got to meet my boyfriend Jesse. So if we can hurry this along–'

'Suze,' Paul grinned at her, his pearly white teeth showing. She flushed crimson, blinking coyly. 'I think we both know that I'll take as long as I like...and you won't exactly be rushing me until we both get to the train station, if you know what I mean.'

She bit her lip, giggling. '...Oh, Paul. You know me too well...'

'Every inch of you,' he said contently. 'But baby, there are still inches of me you haven't seen...'

Looking around, he checked that the coast was clear before pulling her into the men's change room. He always was the class act. However, the experience more than made up for the location. They got to it pretty quickly, Paul groaning in satisfaction. Four days had been agony...

He shoved her against the door, holding her up. He hadn't really needed to call upon his powers, since Suze was doing juuuuust fine at getting his rocks off.

'You know–' she gasped, her eyes closed, 'Sometimes - when I'm with Jesse - I say your name.'

'Is that right...?' he muttered a little boredly. He quickened his pace, since she was obviously distracted enough to talk. Ugh.

'Yep.' She beamed down at him, obviously proud of herself. 'I totally do.'

He just nodded.

'So this Jesse…' he muttered. 'He anywhere as good as me?'

'No…' she said wistfully. 'He's tall, and handsome…but he just doesn't do it for me like you do…'

'Is he – ?' he began conversationally, but that was when, to his ultimate horror, a small face appeared in the little window at the door. Paul's pupils dilated in horror and he swallowed. 'Kelly! What an...inconvenient surprise!'

Kelly's eyes narrowed. She couldn't see Suze from the angle she was at, but she was obviously suspicious that her boyfriend's face was only a few inches from the door. 'I was waiting for you,' she said. 'What are you doing?'

Paul blinked at her. Oh God. His gaze flickered back up to Suze, who was grinning in thrill, and he sighed.

'I'm getting dressed,' he said with deadpan delivery.

And seconds later...Suze's mouth fell open into a perfect O. She breathed out low, staring at the ceiling.

Well, what do you know? She did know when to shut up after all. Paul's features crinkled a little as he tried to keep the feelings of intense arousal off of his face. Kelly's huge brown eyes just looked confused.

'I wanted to talk to you, pumpkin,' she said seriously. 'I've been hearing things...'

'Um, Kell,' Paul bit his lip. If he got caught...that was the end of his dreams of parking the beef bus in Kelly's tuna town. 'Can I just...finish?'

Not a lie. He was safe. So was Suze. She was screwing her eyes shut, starting to whine a little. They couldn't move, though. Kelly's hawk eyes stared at him intensely.

She ignored his plea. 'Paulie,' she said, bringing her glossy lips to a pout, 'Debbie Mancuso heard from Tara Henry, who got told by Amy Gilmore that you're still not over Suze Simon.'

Suze actually choked on her own spit.

Uncomfortably, he laughed at Kelly. 'Baby, how could you believe that?'

Still not a lie. Not a direct one, anyway. And besides...he was over her.

And even at this moment, even if Susannah Simon just happened to be over him...well, that was just the logistics of the present situation. He tried not to dwell on it, lest his dick take her words too seriously.

But then...Kelly went ahead and changed her phrasing.

'So...you're not still into Suze Simon?' she said severely.

Paul faltered.


Casting an apologetic look at Suze, he turned back to Kelly.

'No. I am not into Suze Simon.'

And the lie had been said...

Once again, it took a few moments before Suze was suddenly gasping in amazement. 'Oh my God!' she breathed, struggling to keep still. Paul shot her a glare, jerking her to shut up - this only made things worse. She sucked in air sharply, her toes curling madly as she dug her nails into his shoulders. He winced.

Kelly frowned. 'Paulie...are you okay? Did I upset you?'

He remained silent.

Any more lies, and Suze wouldn't be able to keep her big, climaxing mouth shut. She was shaking. And Kelly was watching.

Paul laughed. 'I'll be out in five minutes, okay babe? Now, stop letting silly things like that run through your head...'

She giggled in relief. 'Thank God. I like, totally need to stop listening to the girls. They like, really don't think you're good enough for me, but I think we'll be totally perfect for each other.'

Paul concentrated on breathing evenly, willing her to go the hell away. From behind the tiny window, she sighed. 'I'm sorry, baby. Can you forgive me?'

'Yes,' he said quickly. He could very easily.

Pleased, she called as she left the hallway outside the men's change rooms, 'I knew I was your only one, sweetie...'

Paul's eyes were just about popping, as were Suze's.

In a strangled voice, he choked out, '...Yeah! Y-you...are...'

And enough was enough. Susannah's teeth bit his neck as she muffled a still fairly loud scream. Paul shoved her against the door once more for good measure, and finally, she groaned, utterly spent.

'That...was...UNBELIEVABLE...' she panted. Letting her down, Paul quickly whispered a string of intentional truths to get his sword back in its sheath. With wide eyes that sung his praises till the cows came home – and boy, did those cows come… - Suze let herself out.

With a groan, Paul sat heavily on the bench. His powers had almost cost him the hottest ass in the business...

Okay, he told himself miserably. It's time to show a little self restraint

– P –

It had been two months since the change room incident, and Paul hadn't touched a single girl since. His commitment to seeing this through even startled him. Never had he been so single-mindedly dedicated to securing a girl's goods before. However…Kelly was the jackpot. She was everything L'Oreal said she would be…she was worth it.

He'd wined her, dined her...but was yet to sixty-nine her. It was weighing on him heavily lately. He'd spend hours locked in the bathroom, muttering lies under his breath. His father was getting worried about him.

But finally...the night had come.

Kelly had said...she was ready for him.

They'd had a wonderful evening, and were now sitting on her bed, looking into each other's eyes - Paul had heard somewhere that chicks liked doing this. Made them feel connected emotionally...before they connected pelvically. He smiled, running his hand through her hair. She just sighed.

'Oh, Paul...' she moaned, turning away. 'I don't know if I can do this.'

That's what all the girls day, he thought dully. And they all managed just fine.

'Sure you can,' he said encouragingly. 'Come on, Kell...'

She sulked. 'You don't understand...' she whispered miserably. 'No one understands except my mother...'

Paul's eyebrows shot up.


Turning away in disappointment, she cried, 'Paul, I need to be honest with you! All right? Can you handle that?'

I can handle it, he told himself fiercely, determined to not let his dick think that he could not. Calmly, he replied, 'Yes.'

She sniffed. 'Paulie-bear...I'm...cursed.'

He blinked.


She looked at him sharply. 'You don't believe me, baby?'

He bit his lip a little, determined not to lie since it was suddenly doubtful that they would be Initiating Phase Two. '...Just...maybe if you explain it a bit more...?

Nodding at this compromise, she held his hands. 'My mother...' she began mysteriously, 'Was a dirty rotten whore.'

Paul shuffled, suddenly liking this story. He hoped there'd be diagrams. Or a DVD…?

'She was with a man,' Kelly moaned woefully, 'For two years. He loved her dearly... but then one day, she cheated! And she did the next...and the next...and the next...'

Worried where this was going, Paul frowned, but urged her to go on.

'Well,' she sniffled, 'He found out, of course, and to punish her for her betrayal, he willed it that all the Prescott women would never again be...satisfied. Where our...' she glanced down, '...should be, we instead have bottomless pits of nothingness that can never be filled. And so when I make love,' her lids fluttered shut dramatically, 'I feel nothing...nothing but the crumbling of my hopes.'

Paul's grasp on her hands tightened, and his heart surged.

This was too good to be true…

'...Kelly Prescott,' he declared, 'I think I've found my match.'

She stared at him. 'Were you not listening?' she snapped, her forlorn misery gone and replaced with annoyance. 'I'm insatiable. I'm...a sexual lost cause... There's no satisfaction to be had for either of us, poopsie.'

His eyes glittered. 'On the contrary,' he said. 'I too have...a certain condition of my genitalia. One that may just be the answer to your–'

She sat up straighter. 'Oh my God! ...You have a bottomless pit as well?' she cooed in sympathy. 'My poor baby! Paul, I never knew you had a vagina!'

He froze.

'Kelly. I don't have a vagina.'

'...Oh,' she mumbled. 'Continue.'

Ploughing on with his tale, he tossed his head. 'I have the ability, dear Kelly,' he shot her a glamorous smile, 'Which I believe will be the eternal shovel in your bottomless hole. They call me...Paulnocchio.'

'Why?' she asked, her mouth opening.

...She was ruining his dramatic affect.

'Because!' he went on victoriously. 'I, Kells, believe I can hit the end of that endless pit of yours, if you'd just give me the chance...'

She rolled her eyes. 'Paul. I'm not having sex with you.'

'Oh, but you are,' he flashed her another grin. 'Because if I didn't believe in the power of my own dick with all my heart, it would be swelled to the size of China right now.'

Kelly stood up vividly, flinging herself against him. 'Oh, Paul...I know you probably think you're fairly, um, substantial, but this is just a bit out of your league–'

'Kelly!' he rolled on top of her. She blinked up at him, alarmed. She was perfect! This was his exchange to extend himself to new heights, to reach his greatest potential, to fulfil his destiny! And his girlfriend. 'You have to believe me. I am the answer to your prayers. I will fill you...all I need to do is lie, and all your dreams will come true.'

Her eyes glittered with hope.

'Are you fucking with me...?' she whispered in distress, begging him to be telling the truth.

He smiled kindly. 'I'd like to be...'

And ten minutes later, she was bouncing over him, screaming, 'Lie to me, LIE TO ME!'

'You're fat!' he shouted up at her.

She screamed in pleasure. 'Tell me I'm ugly!' she moaned, rocking harder. He'd never...told this many lies before. Not in a row. Wow…

'Ugly as sin!' he roared, and she gasped. 'And your boobs are all funny shaped...'

Deeper, longer he went.

'What else?' she begged.

'Bush is a great president!' Paul said quickly. 'And Rosie O'Donnell is a very attractive woman...'

She seized his hair, yanking on it, grinding further against him. He spluttered out nonsensical words in shock. Never had he felt this good, this amazing, this...

...Completely and utterly finished.

But she wasn't. She kept thrusting, harder and more desperately. 'Lie!' she snapped at him, slapping his face harshly. 'You said you'd help me, Paul! You're so close... and if you stop now, I will grow teeth down there this instant and bite it off, I swear!'

'I...' Paul muttered wearily, 'I can't think of anything else, Kells...'

'Is that a lie?' she demanded urgently.

'No,' he replied. 'I'm sick of lying...I just want to be straight with you, baby–'

A surge of tingles cascaded downstairs, and he looked up at her in shock. She gasped. 'I felt that. What did you say?'

He paled.

'I said...that I wanted to be straight–'

Paul broke off suddenly.

'...No way.'

She screamed again. 'I dunno what you're going, Paulie, but it's working! Just keep going, oh, keep going!'

'No way!' he snapped, forgetting the gorgeous girl on top of him. He glared at his submerged manhood. 'You can't be...'

Kelly squealed, clenching her thighs like there was no tomorrow as she dragged her nails down his chest. 'YES!' she shrieked into the high ceiling of her bedroom.

'NO!' Paul argued. She jolted again. This wasn't happening! He couldn't be...it just wasn't possible. All the girls! So many girls, and he'd -

'I'm NOT gay!' he snarled.

And that blew her fuse completely. She howled, her muscles seizing into the night, before she finally collapsed over him, panting harder than ever. She smiled against his slick neck. 'Oh, wow...you did it, muffin cheeks...you hit my spot...' She cackled gleefully. 'Now...what was that you said before?'

He just stared at the roof, in utter awe.

'I... I said I was sick of lying,' he concluded.

He knew the truth now.

His dick didn't lie.

...He was a fudge-packer.

Of men.

…Just to avoid the confusion.

– P –

'So,' the Blue Fairy said gruffly, passing Paul a cigarette. He dragged deeply. 'How are you handling it?'

'I don't know,' Paul whimpered. He was scared of this new life...of this new way of being. 'I just don't understand. I can't even remember thinking about a guy before all of this. How could I have been hiding it so well? From myself?'

He cast the overweight, hairy fairy a distraught look.

Buff grunted. 'You didn't.'

'You mean...everyone knew before?' Paul gasped in horror.

Oh God. His father was going to eat him alive.

...That should NOT HAVE BEEN AN AROUSING THOUGHT! He glared accusingly at his crotch until it shrivelled back. Turning back to Buff, he awaited his response.

'Oh, nah,' Buff waved a hand casually. 'It was the Prescott bitch that did it to me. They are cursed,' he whispered conspiratorially, a savage look gracing his pudgy, unattractive face which was ruined even further with his enormous pores. Paul was about to suggest an excellent facial treatment for that - but seized angrily himself before he further proved his homosexuality.

'...Wait...what?' His hearing had suddenly caught up with him. 'You mean...banging a Prescott made you gay?!'

Buff sighed bitterly. 'Sure did. Stupid whore...'

Furious, Paul threw the cigarette to the floor, stepping on it forcefully. 'Well, that's just GREAT.'

Once he had calmed down, Paul felt a sly finger running up and down his thigh. He gave Buff a curious look. 'What are you doing?'

Buff leant in seductively, his voice dipping into a husky slur. '...Making the most of your bad situation...' he grinned coyly, showing a maximum of eight teeth.

W-what? But...surely not so soon, after he'd just -

Paul groaned.

'...Oh, all right,' he muttered, agitated. 'I'm up for it.'

And indeed he was.

Buff wasn't going to let his Randy Rod go to waste.