Thursday, 22 January 2015


He was masturbating at his bedroom desk. He had become addicted to self pleasure since he had clocked thirteen. The internet had become his haven and pornography his past time. The past three years had been a breeze for him. He didn’t have to deal with the abject rejection that spewed from his parents and the pity that came from strangers.

He was born with a deformity that made him an eyesore. He had lazy eyes, mouth that was askew; resulting in a constant drool of spittle down the side of his chin. His arms and legs were thin and could hardly support his malformed torso. His head was constantly lolling to the side, requiring his shoulder for balance. As he grew up, it didn’t take him long to realize that people were repulsed by his grotesque figure. It wasn’t long before he learnt to keep to himself.

He had asked his parents to remove the mirrors and all shiny surfaces from his room. Even he couldn't look at himself. Whenever he looked at his body, he was greeted by the ugly, huge splotches like eczema traversing his entire body which he found was called psoriasis. The only parts of his body that had developed very well were his brain and his penis. At sixteen, his brain was as sharp as Albeit Einstein's and though he hated it, his penis was as huge as Mandingo's. While most people with a brain like that would have thought of changing the world, he couldn’t be bothered. The world had rejected him and he was returning the favor with a flip of his middle finger as the nice Cherrie on top! It was no wonder that he became addicted to masturbation.

He couldn’t pretend anymore that the looks from his parents were anything but hurtful. When, at fourteen, he told his parents he could home school himself (using the internet), it was all they could do not to jump in glee. They gladly accepted his proposal to shut himself in his room. Even his personal maid couldn’t look at him without that slight disgust normal people gave the physically challenged. One day, he cooked up a plan to see just how repulsive he was to the world. He lay naked on his bed as his maid was about to do her daily clean-up session. When she entered, her reaction was epic! Though her scream was funny, it showed just how much everyone in general (and women in particular) was repulsed by him. He wasn't ever going to get laid by anyone, so he did himself. His room was his prison but the internet was his plane to fly anywhere he chose.

His family would be having Sunday dinner now. The maid had brought his in and told him she'd see him tomorrow. Her jangling backside in her uniform had set him on edge. As soon as she had closed the door behind her, he went to his desk with his body oil and opens his new fetish: lesbian porn. He was slowly working himself to pleasure when a pop-up ad caught his attention.

'Want to have women flock around you and kowtow to your every desire?'

He stopped the rhythmic stroke and looked at the pop-up again. He moved his right hand to his mouse and moved the cursor to the ad. For a second there, he was torn between continuing his pleasure ride and finding out about women bowing to him. In the end, masturbation was okay but he wanted to bury himself in a woman. He clicked the ad and was redirected to the full webpage: Satan's Lair. He quickly skimmed through the introduction and perused the website, mentally praising the creators for their ingenuity. He admitted to himself that the moment he saw the domain name, he thought he would see images of what the world defined as demons, but all he saw were well clad people and simple, everyday grammar that anyone could understand. He wanted to exit the page and continue his pleasure when the screen metamorphosed into a slide show of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. The message popped up again, this time, bolder.

'Want to have women flock around you and kowtow to your every desire?'

At the base of the message was a simple 'Yes'. No 'Not now' or 'Maybe later' nor even 'Cancel'. He laughed a bit.
'The devil is pretty cocky huh?' He thought to himself as he clicked the 'Yes' button. 

The page expanded to show a sign up page. Odd. No 'Sign In' just 'Sign Up'. He shrugged and started filling in his detail; albeit the wrong ones.

Full Name: John Huge (he snickered as he typed that)
Password: **************
Re-enter password: **************

  I agree to all terms and conditions


He hovered over the submit button, a small part of him urging him to read the terms and conditions, but he was too eager to see what the site could offer. He quickly submitted, shrugging off the unexplained build up of nerves.

The screen went blank! No icons, no nothing, almost like he had turned off the computer. He bent down to look at the CPU, and saw that the system was still running. He took his head back up just in time to see the monitor come back on; opening at the sign up page with his details.

Like something out of a movie, his entries deleted themselves, one letter at a time, slowly but surely. His eyes were riveted to the screen, shocked beyond measure. That was when he felt the presence of something malevolent, something deliberately evil and very rotten at its core. He wanted to scream but he felt his lips being sealed, almost as if an invisibly long needle and thread was using his lips as a template for some intricate design. He tried to get up and literally felt a force push him back down, keeping him in his seat. He felt chained to his chair, with his face fixed on his screen. Now that his attention was unwavering, the typing began, one letter at a time and not surprisingly, without the keyboard. 

Full Name: Haniel David Osita
Password: iwantrealgirls
Re-enter Password: iwantrealgirls. 
I agree to all terms and conditions


The agreement to the terms and conditions clicked itself and as if to mock his immobility, the page expanded to show the full terms and conditions. There were just two. 


1. By clicking 'Submit', you relinquish your soul to your new master, Damien.
2. You become a vessel for WHATEVER use required by Damien.

He began to struggle, urging his body to physically revolt against the assault. He thrashed and thrashed with all his might but watched his body remain utterly still. He wanted to call out to other forces, something his parents believed in, something they mentioned when they prayed, or whatever it was that they did. But as the memory of the name came to him, he felt his spirit being choked by foul smelling fumes akin to rotten eggs. He was choking in his own flesh. When he felt he couldn't take it anymore, the choke hold let up…………and started again. This continued for what felt like eternity until he was too weak to continue fighting.

 He watched his hand move to the mouse, and he knew he had to try again. He needed to fight for his life! He gave all he got! The struggle was real; the force field around him pulling him to click the submit button and him pulling -with all his might- against selling his soul. The choking fumes returned with much more vigor, but in spite of all the sputters wracking his spirit, he wouldn't budge. His life had been messed up from the womb and now, he wasn’t going to totally lose it. He gave his all. He had to keep fighting. The pain in his flesh was like a thousand cattle prods pressing on all his delicate nerve endings. He tried to see beyond the pain, to keep fighting, to hold on a little longer........but it wasn't good enough. The thing that had taken hold of his body held his hands, cupped the mouse and dragged the cursor to the icon.........then it applied one more unbearable pressure to him. He couldn’t fight any longer. He gave up………..and clicked.

The entire room went black.

(What happens to Haniel? What does one click bode for the Osita family? Find out in RIPPLE EFFECT II (CLICK HERE)!!!!!!!!!)