Amethyst Eyes of the Jungle - An Exalted Prologue
Creation is a diverse place filled with diverse people and even more diverse gods. You try and tell me that this couldn't happen. His Totem is the tiger, but it never comes up. Feel free to imagine your own fuzzy (or scaly) instead!
Apologies for the formatting. This was done in an RP as an off the cuff character prologue and, though I cleaned it up, it still keeps a certain style.
Amethyst Eyes of the Jungle. He was newly minted, a Chosen fresh off the press, a shining Celestial. His name felt, tasted, more real than ever. But the world is indifferent to such grandeur, and guidance is rare even in the best of times. Luck still favored him, and he did end up meeting briefly with another like him who gave him a crash course in what it was to be a Chosen of Luna. He wasn't a particularly attentive student, but one thing did stand out to him: the idea of the Thousand Streams River.
The great project to wean humanity from the indolence caused by relying only on the strong. The seed of thought was planted and took root. He mulled it over, but building something that was meant to last was nothing if the materials involved were weak. Humans would have to evolve and become other, greater. And what greater than in his own image! He would SIRE a new human race! One that modeled after his own new magnificent form!
And thus, still riding the cathartic high that was his Choosing, he went seeking. The ease at which he could accomplish anything surely placed him in the perfect position to demand a favor by right and by ability. And what better to assist him in his ambition but the preeminent god of Fertility in all the East! At this thought, he paused. Perhaps not THAT god... but certainly he could and WOULD demand from one of their direct lieutenants! He knew how to petition a god and how could they deny his puissance?
It took time. A lot of time. And a lot of effort, but he was able to complete the supplication AND he was able to receive not just an audience, but was able to demand the blessing. He would be as a stallion! Potent! Virile! Yes. Such were his demands, and such were they granted!
It wasn't long after his departure from the sanctum that the first pangs of urgency hit him. They came heavily and more urgent than he'd ever experienced. A sign of the efficacy of his gift! He gleefully settled to relieve himself, finding his pride noticeably larger. No sooner did he give himself a first solid squeeze than he erupted uncontrollably. In a single shot, he surpassed the volume of his entire release prior to the blessing. Another shot! And another! This was exactly what he wished for! He bucked and shot as his body convulsed with the power of his new potency.
Amidst the haze of his own release, he managed to register how his hand, gripped tightly, seemed to grip less of his pride than before. Was he still getting larger? He squinted between bucks at his erupting loins. He was! And he was firing in even greater volumes still! He exulted in how much he was given. Certainly this god had delivered on his demand and then some!
It wasn't until after he felt his fingers part from each other with his expansion as his uncontrollable release continued beyond several minutes that he considered that his blessing may have been a bit overdone. But certainly he could only continue for so long. It was bound to be over momentarily.
When both hands had reach down to grip his girth with still no sign of his ever increasing virility abating, did he start to worry. This was too much. He had to stop. He squeezed himself tighter, as he tried to will his continuing release into check. But he only bucked harder, firing larger and larger ropes of musk into the air and all about. He had to stop now! He could bring it to end!
This release seemed to have no end. He couldn't stop it! Every moment harder, every moment bigger. He could feel the soaked fingers of both his hands separate and slide over each other, unable to see as he clenched his eyes shut in the futile efforts to stop the deluge. Briefly he considered the words he'd used: as a stallion. Certainly that wasn't taken literally? Those thoughts were washed away with his uncontrollable bucking and the endless surge rushing through his endowment. He was certain that even stallions did not produce this much. He had to stop. He couldn't stop
He awakened hours later in a seeping puddle of his own creation. Hazily, he could remember that he had finally started to abate after Luna knows how long. He ached all over, not just from having slept in an uncomfortable spot, but most undoubtedly from the involuntary convulsions caused by his new "blessing". He gathered his wits, and then gathered himself, rising awkwardly onto unsteady legs. He kept his knees bent to steady himself and to allow himself an examination.
He had pride before, warranted pride! Though now, his pride surpassed his expectations, swinging ponderously from his groin. A dormant beast lay in the valley between two tremendous ovals. All together they spanned a foot across. He reached down and tried to lift his divinely-touched orbs, finding that each six inch globe took one hand each. He shuddered and released a moan at the sensation, the tingling of just this touch rushing like electricity. The urgency returned, multiplied by the tremendousness of his size. A true panic set in as he shot erect in mere moments, a full foot and a half in length now and just as wide as his length would suggest. There wouldn't be any means to mate with this "pride".
He called out, shouting angrily, demandingly, and then desperately. Crying out the name of that cursed god. This needed to be undone! This wasn't what he wanted! Indignantly, he shoved his length aside as it swung and bobbed insistently before him, it demanding attention with huge gushes and ropes of translucent fluid, leaking these casual amounts in volumes that would put even a stallion's full release to shame. Just that, however, was enough to bring him to his knees, howling with the sensation. Unable to handle the overwhelming sensitivity, he released again.
It took time. A lot of time. And a lot of effort. But he was able to discipline himself so that he could move, and then travel so that the slightest provocation wouldn't set his cursed libido firing again. It took longer before he was able to fashion a supportive loincloth for himself, and longer still before he was able to wear it without too much trouble. He still seemed to leak constantly, though that was from the constant low level urgency that he now had to learn to survive and control. As he improved at his control, he learned that his curse was manifold. Not only did he release in excess, he needed to release regularly, lest his divine fertility build up and swell his pride even larger.
But he was a Chosen. A Chosen of Luna, no less. He would subvert this "blessing", this curse in disguise, and utilize it. He would learn how. He would master his shifting, master his form. Once he accomplished that, he would move on his ambition. He wouldn't sire a people, he would sire a nation!