Chapter 1

A common fallacy is that anyone can be anything they desire; that if they work hard enough they can achieve their dream. This is patently false. The man locked in a wheel chair will never be an Olympic long jump gold medallist. Not everyone has the mental capacity to be a rocket scientist. Some people are so ugly that no matter how much plastic surgery they have done, they will never be Miss America.

People are held back by natural limitations of all kinds. Some limitations are physical while others are mental. Some people are not emotionally stable enough to bear the stress that some activities require. It is important that people recognize those limitations and not waste their time trying to do something of which they are incapable.

Natural limitations are not as severe as one may believe. The limitations that one puts on oneself are far more destructive and limiting. These are artificial barriers and their existence makes people choose to not pursue those things in which they may actually excel. The loss is theirs and the world at large suffers.

Occasionally, something happens that is so amazing, frightening, and strange, that it changes the lives of those involved. The result is a sudden elimination of many of the self-imposed limitations. The people appear to change direction in their life, becoming new people energized and capable of anything. An example is the near death experience that changes a shy person into a charismatic preacher.

When artificial barriers are destroyed, it is as though a whole new world opens for the person. Simple things that were once impossible now become easy. They possess great energy. That energy is contagious and affects all that come within their sphere of influence. Overnight, they become leaders in their chosen field of endeavor.

When a natural limitation is removed by a supernatural means, the result is miraculous. Impossible things become possible and the effects can rock the entire world. They are driven by a force that is impossible to conquer.

Every branch of the military has one. There is that one soldier that never breaks the rules, but is never successful in carrying out his orders. He’s the one that repeats boot camp and ends up performing worse the second time. He’s the one that drops the live grenade in the throwing area during training. He’s the one that drops his rifle during the close order drill demonstration during the graduation parade at the conclusion of boot camp. He’s the one that spills his food tray on the base commander the first day he arrives at his post. This is the guy that, after completing his full tour, is still a single stripe and actually wishes to reenlist. His desire to please and the energy that he puts into each task only exacerbate the problem.

The one in the Army was the one and only son of Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Meyers. Jacob Meyers, in a slightly inebriated state on the day his son was born, had given the poor lad the name, Oscar. That’s right, the great Army screw-up was named Oscar Meyers. Almost everyone that met poor Oscar was initially tempted to call him hot dog. Usually after ten minutes of experiencing the clumsy young man, they would give him the nickname Bologna. Girls liked him, but none had ever considered dating him. He was viewed as mostly harmless by women.

His early life had been filled with bullies that took advantage of his small stature and clumsiness. He had been the butt of jokes for as long as he could remember. While he was physically clumsy, Oscar was not stupid and had made very good grades through school. That also had been a factor in being treated poorly. Unfortunately, he was too clumsy to even be considered a nerd.

Oddly, he understood the attitudes of other people towards him. Oscar had harmed more than one individual through his clumsiness. He had lost jobs because of accidents that were his fault. It wasn’t fun being around an accident-prone person; it was downright dangerous. He felt guilty about the number of people that he had harmed although it wasn’t intentional.

Joining the Army had been more difficult than he had expected. He assumed that the Army accepted anyone. He just barely met the physical requirements in terms of height. The recruiter had even tried to talk him out of joining after Oscar had tripped over the brochure stand causing it to crash over, landing full force on the recruiter’s foot. Oscar had been desperate and forced the issue. Unemployed and effectively unemployable, he had no real future except in the military.

Oscar had joined the Army for several reasons. There was the hope that the discipline imposed on him would translate into more control over his body, and give him greater self-confidence. He hoped that his fellow soldiers would treat him as an equal. Also, he couldn’t afford college, and planned to use the benefits that the Army provided to pay his way through school.

Despite his expectations to the contrary, life in the military was rather lonely for Oscar. His fellow soldiers did their best to stay away from him. He had caused several of them to be injured in the past. Each time had been an accident, but that didn’t relieve the pain he had caused. His fellow soldiers didn’t want to stand in front of him when he carried a gun because they were afraid of being shot in the back. They didn’t want to stand next to him out of fear that he would drop a live grenade. They didn’t want to be behind him, because God only knew what Oscar would do to screw things up and get one of them killed. It was often joked, in the grim manner of hardened soldiers, that in a battle he would be responsible for the majority of purple hearts his unit would receive.

He had gone through several nicknames by now. It started with hotdog. After his first accident, they started calling him Wiener. After several more screw-ups, they changed it to Bologna. This was followed by the nickname, Fuck Up, which was shortened to F-U. Even F-U was too much so they shortened it to Foo. He did his best not to answer to it, but the frequent use of the term demanded him to reply; even his Sargent called him Foo.

It was a fine summer morning when Oscar found himself driving an empty Hummer through the Afghani desert. Even though it was morning, the temperature was rising towards triple digits. The Hummer was empty because no one wanted to ride with him. His rifle was in the back seat, placed there by his fellow soldiers, where it could do no harm. He was several miles behind the convoy and driving fast in the hope of catching up with it. He had stopped a half an hour earlier to go to the bathroom and they had continued on their way.

It was important to note that they had waited for him during his first two stops, but he was single-handedly holding back the entire convey. When he had pulled over the last time, they went on without him. It wasn’t that they did anything wrong. After the last stop they had told him to return to the base on the assumption that the route was safe, but he had decided that he could continue in the hope of catching up with them. If something happened to him, they would probably get in trouble. If they stayed with him, they would definitely arrive at their destination late and be in trouble.

Before he could catch up to them, his stomach cramped again. He pulled off the road and parked by some rocks. Grabbing the roll of toilet paper from the seat next to him, he raced into the rocks while undoing his belt. He only tripped once causing him to drop the roll of toilet paper. Miraculously it was the only incident that marred his dash to his temporary toilet. Dropping his pants, he sighed as his bowels emptied themselves for the fourth time that morning.

As he squatted, he looked over the desert appreciating the harsh beauty of it. To his surprise, a convoy of white trucks headed towards the road that his convey had taken. He watched as they met up with the road and turned down it to follow the route taken by his fellow soldiers. He was about to wipe himself, when his bowels boiled again. He put the convoy out of his mind while his ass burned from going one time too many.

The sad thing about this situation was that he had done it to himself. He had drunk the laxative thinking it was Malox and would calm his upset stomach. Even worse, he had dosed himself twice trying to alleviate his stomachache. The discovery of its true nature occurred much too late to do anything about it. While he groaned, the laxative took effect again. He wiped the dirt off the roll of toilet paper; bemoaning his fate as a klutz. After ten minutes, his intestines calmed down. He wiped himself off and pulled up his pants.

He went back to the Hummer and put the roll of toilet paper on the front seat. Returning to his makeshift toilet with a shovel, he covered it with a light layer of dirt. He looked up at the sky, where he believed the Gods and Goddesses resided, as he said, “Sorry about that, at least the toilet paper is biodegradable.”

He returned to the Hummer, only dropping the shovel twice on his way there, and put away the shovel. Pulling back from the rocks, he returned to the road. He floored it in the hope of catching up to his convoy. The dark cloud of dust on the horizon placed the convey well ahead of him. Of course, he thought it was odd that the cloud of dust was almost black in color. The soil in this region was a dirty reddish-gray.

The nature of the terrain changed from flat to hilly. Ahead the terrain would become mountainous and that was where his unit was being deployed. The unit would be spending the next few months searching for terrorists hidden in the mountains along the border between Afghanistan and Pakistan. This was an assignment that he did not want. He was not afraid of the terrorists, but of hurting his fellow soldiers. Oscar was sure that his clumsiness would create a disaster.

Twenty minutes later, he came around a bend in the road. Half of the convoy of white trucks he had observed earlier was headed in his direction. He knew things were bad when bullet holes appeared in his windshield. He turned the Hummer in a huge circle and headed back the way he had come. An RPG flew past him and exploded harmlessly beside the road. His stomach clenched, only this time it was out of fear.

He drove like a maniac trying to get away from them. Half of the time, he was looking over his shoulder trying to watch what was occurring behind him. Each time he looked over his shoulder the Hummer swerved all over the area. It was only on the road half the time, but that was actually to his benefit since it gave his driving an unpredictability that prevented the terrorists from targeting him. His efforts to outrun the white trucks were not successful. They slowly gained on him while the rear of the Hummer rang as bullets struck it. Unable to return fire while driving; he knew he needed to stop and defend himself.

Finally, he spotted a pile of rocks and decided that he could take cover among them. He drove the car up to the rocks and parked the Hummer. In his haste, he stopped far too short of the rocks. He reached into the back seat for his gun, firing a round through the door as he did so. Unfazed, he leapt out of the vehicle and took off towards the rocks. Without tripping, he made it to the rocks and threw himself behind one of them. The dampness seeping into pants where his knee touched the ground made him realize where he was. He had just knelt in the middle of his former toilet. In an irony that he didn’t notice at the time, he swore, “Shit!”

He readied his gun as the six white trucks stopped. Two of them had machine guns mounted on the roof of the cab. He started firing, miraculously hitting a couple of the people in the trucks. He ducked as they returned fire. He rose and fired a few more rounds in the general direction of the trucks. The sounds from the next volley of shots in his direction informed him that he was being surrounded.

Oscar knew he was about to be trapped in his current position. His stomach clenched in fear as he looked around for a way to escape. The only way out required him to pass through a huge dust devil moving towards his position from the rear. Things were pretty hopeless and there was no one to rescue him. He had no idea what had happened to his convoy, but he was sure that it wasn’t good.

By now, Oscar was more scared than he had ever been. This was the kind of fear in which the whole body reacts; belly churns, asshole clenches, the skin sweats, and limbs tremble. All he wanted to do was to get out of there. He rose and, in panic, fired the rest of his clip in the direction where he thought the enemy was hiding. When he knelt down, he realized that he was out of ammunition and almost surrounded. The Hummer was too far away for him to return to it for ammunition without getting killed.

His situation was hopeless and he knew it. He was basically unarmed except for his knife while they were fully armed and more than happy to kill him. There was no doubt in his mind that it would likely be a long slow painful death. Everyone stationed in the area had heard stories of people being tortured to death. He remembered the stories about the news reporter that had been skinned alive. His hands trembled from the fear.

He turned to examine his only avenue of escape and looked at the dust devil as it moved closer to him. He would never be able to explain why he did what he did next. It may have been his fear that drove him to it or it might have been his curiosity about what would happen to him. He did know that he had nothing left to lose, and that there was a chance that he would be shot to death rather than captured. He stood up and ran as fast as he could into the dust devil.

The dust devil was huge, about fifty feet across at the base. The wind wasn’t that strong, but it was loaded with dirt and debris. He was nearly blinded by the dust when he stepped into it, but that didn’t stop him from continuing into the eye. When he reached the calm center, there was a naked man standing there with his arms crossed. Oscar froze and stared at the man. This was the last thing that he had expected to see. Remembering a myth that Djinni lived in dust devils, he asked, “Do I get three wishes or something?”

The naked man looked at the pitiful figure in front of him. The knees of his pants were stained brown from kneeling in shit. He was sure that if the man had not been to the bathroom so many times before that his pants would have been filled with it. The naked man laughed before he answered, “Sure, why not? What do you wish for?”

Oscar stood there for a minute and then thinking aloud said, “I wish I was wise and intelligent enough to make good use of these wishes.”

“Okay,” acknowledged the naked man as he raised his arms and nodded his head in a fashion that Oscar expected of a Djinni. He asked, “Your second wish?”

Oscar thought about where he had been and declared, “I wish I had the strength, grace, and fortitude to do what needs to be done.”

“Interesting. Granted.” The naked man looked at Oscar for a minute before he asked, “What is your third wish?”

Oscar shrugged his shoulders as he tried to think of a good third wish. In a flash of insight, he said, “I wish to use these gifts to serve the Gods and Goddesses to the best of my ability.”

The man nodded his head and Oscar suddenly found himself in a meadow facing the naked man. The meadow was eerie; the colors were too bright, the sounds too loud, and scents that would normally be unnoticed stood out demanding attention. The naked man was taller and sporting an extremely large erection. Oscar stared at it for a minute, incredulous that a male body could support anything that huge. For a moment, he was glad that he hadn’t asked for the biggest dick on the planet.

Oscar came to a realization as he stared at the man. In an awed voice, he said, “You’re not a Djinni, you’re the God.”

The naked man smiled as he looked upon Oscar and replied, “Yes, I am.”

Before Oscar had a chance to react, the man reached out and grabbed him. The clothes fell off Oscar as if they were leaves on an oak in autumn. Strong hands on his shoulders forced him to his knees. His scream of surprise was cut off as the huge cock was shoved into his mouth. His eyes opened wide at the situation in which he found himself.

Despite his first impulse to fight the invasion of his mouth, Oscar chose to accept it. After all, this was a God and they lived by their own rules. A mortal man could not hope to fight off a God.

The situation was complicated by the fact that Oscar was a virgin. He had never been with a woman in any kind of sexual situation; he had never even held hands. He had no real idea what a blowjob was supposed to be like. Oscar tried to remember what he had read about getting a blowjob, but the stories read while masturbating did not cover the details about how to give a blowjob. Even if they had, he wouldn’t have paid them any attention since he expected to be on the receiving end rather than giving one. He put his hands up and started to stroke the base of the monster cock. The effort seemed to spur the man on to more vigorous thrusting.

Oscar’s cock became erect and started leaking pre-cum almost immediately. It pooled on the ground around his knees. His sexual excitement in these circumstances surprised him making him question if secretly he was gay, but years of jacking off to pictures of naked women argued to the contrary. As his erection continued to demand attention, he took one of his hands off the God’s cock and placed it on his own.

Oscar tried to lick the cock in his mouth while his hand stroked the base of the cock. The cock was so large that his efforts were ineffective and it was so far into his mouth that he was licking insensitive shaft. After what seemed like an hour, the naked man came. He shoved his cock deep into the Oscar’s throat and emptied himself. Oscar forced himself not to vomit as his stomach was filled with come.

Oscar came at the same time with an orgasm that was far more intense than any of his previous experiences during masturbation. It was more intense than any of his masturbation fantasies had conceived. His hand and cock were quickly covered with a thick coat of come. The amount of ejaculate was impossible. He knew a man only ejaculated a teaspoon of come, but this felt like a gallon.

Chapter 2 »