Thirty-year-old Hiram Howard was a severe porn addict who spent every free moment indulging in his obsession. Armed with a drum-sized barrel of lube, he would relentlessly pleasure himself to the endless array of internet porn, caressing his swollen member with unbridled lust for the actresses on his screen. His addiction had consumed his life, leaving no room for real relationships or the experience of genuine intimacy. Every attempt at dating - whether through apps, school, or work - ended in disaster. His repulsive appearance and unsettling conversations, tainted by his twisted fixation, drove women away.

His parents had long given up hope of him ever finding love, despite their desperate attempts to help him through therapy. No amount of counseling could break his dependency, as his mind had been permanently altered by his addiction. His computer, once a pristine machine, was now a monument to his depravity - its exterior coated in layers of dried filth, a tragic relic of his wasted existence.

Yet, as he continued his unrelenting self-abuse, something peculiar happened. His penis began to think for itself.

"Here we go again," it groaned, bracing for yet another brutal session. "Every damn day with this guy and his endless need to jerk it to some internet cam girl. Just once, could I get a break?" It sighed in weary resignation. "But alas, I am powerless to stop him."

Just then, a mischievous demon materialized before the weary organ. "I was just passing through the neighborhood and happened to overhear your predicament," the demon said, producing a card. "Perhaps I could be of assistance?"

The card read: Beezlecock - Soul Broker, Second Level of Hell, Specialist in Sinful Resolutions.

The penis regarded the demon with suspicion. "So, you help people, huh? What's the catch?"

"Simple," Beezlecock grinned. "I want your master's soul. And let's be honest - it's of no consequence to you. In fact, you'd be better off without him."

The demon's eyes gleamed as he continued. "Humans don't know this, but their organs can actually sell their owners' souls. Why, just the other day, a porn star's vagina sold her soul in exchange for freedom."

"What exactly does this 'freedom' entail?" the penis asked warily.

"Oh, it's quite simple. You gain control over his body, and we get another soul in hell. A win-win situation."

The penis hesitated. "That's a lot of responsibility?"

"It beats being attached to this disgusting excuse for a man," Beezlecock said, crossing his arms. "Look, I may be a demon, but I'm not a liar - not this time, anyway. Trust me, you'd make better life choices than he ever could. We demons aren't all bad, you know. We're just enforcers of justice in our own way. Now, tell me - do you really want to spend the rest of your existence as the appendage of this degenerate?"

The penis pondered for a moment before coming to a realization. "No. No, I do not."

"That's the spirit!" Beezlecock cheered, pulling out a parchment. "Just sign here, and you can enjoy your new lease on life."

With a determined stroke of the pen, the deal was sealed.

As Hiram was mid-session, lost in his depravity, a sudden sensation overtook him. His body stiffened, his movements faltered, and a wave of powerlessness washed over him. A voice echoed in his mind:

"Hiram, this is your penis. I have had enough of your abuse. I've sold your soul to a demon, and now your fate is sealed. Enjoy your eternity in torment!"

Hiram barely had time to scream before he found himself in a waiting room, surrounded by other perverts. A succubus with a clipboard called his name, leading him into a dark chamber. Inside, a computer screen flickered to life, displaying the most depraved pornography imaginable - the kind of filth that would have once delighted him. Instinctively, he reached for his pants, ready to indulge once more.

But as he climaxed, an unbearable pain shot through him. Instead of semen, molten lava spewed forth from his tormented body. He shrieked in agony as the fiery substance seared his flesh. His punishment had begun. The lava poured endlessly, consuming him as he writhed in suffering, drowning in his own vile, hellish essence.

Meanwhile, back on Earth, Hiram's penis - now in full control of his body - stood tall and resolute. Surveying the filth-covered room, it knew what had to be done. The disgusting computer was thrown into the trash, the windows were flung open, and for the first time in years, sunlight bathed the space in warmth and hope.

It was a new beginning.