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26596f.jpg
Chocolate Drifter
26596f
>>901663
>>901671
> 9, 17
A brief scan through the woman affirms your suspicions, deific seed would never fail to impregnate a mortal woman, much less one so willing. Interestingly enough, it appears the energies released during the loss of your virginity enhanced the sperm, and the fetus is almost certain to be well-beyond any mortal, whether it is a demigod or monstrosity remains to be seen. Regardless, your first worshipper served you well in life and in death she is going to birth your child, ensuring her comfort is the least you can do. Scooping the insensate girl over your shoulder, you vanish and rematerialize in a luxurious sleeping chamber.
There, you deposit her onto the bed, and with the wave of a hand, send her into a deep slumber. Depending on the godspawn's might, the gestation could take a century or longer. This way she'll awaken a mere month before birth, by then your servants will be ready to ease her through labor, and your palace prepared to accommodate the infant. For a moment, you consider the fetus's need for nourishment, then cast your worries aside, your godly realm's aura should prove more than sufficient. With Ti'lan taken care of, you turn your attentions to Eprelin. If your name is to reign supreme, the dunes must be undone, and your faith must be stronger than the cults of Nithrak, Punkol, and Fethas.
With the screech of grinding steel, you manifest in the limestone temple and pause. It appears the faithful have forged a steel sculpture in your name, and placed it above the spider's throne. The line of bucket-bearing mortals is thicker than it was, and the impassioned zeal has left their prayers, replaced with a content familiarity. If you didn't intervene, within five generations their faith would be hollow tradition, and in ten it would be gone. You're surprised to see that the spider has grown one and half-again in size, and its throne-slaves have doubled in number. Its pumping has grown to a pummeling, the girl held between its legs seems to moan in pain more than pleasure, and sure enough, its tongue is alternating between the slave's intimate parts and the waters of the fountain.
Like laat time, the spider is ecstatic to see you, and while the mortals can't sense your presence, they are shocked to hear it speak.
> SNAP FINGERS, YOU HAVE RETURNED!
> "How long have I been gone?"
> APPROXIMATELY EIGHT TENTHS OF A LIFETIME
> "Hmm. I see you've grown in size, grown your harem, and built a crude statue of me. Care to explaim?"
> IN YOUR ABSENCE, I FOUND MYSELF GROWING IN BULK AND PENILE LENGTH, AND ASSUMED YOU HAD BESTOWED A BLESSING UPON ME UNTIL I WITNESSED A MORTAL PRAYING TO ME INSTEAD OF YOU. TO FULFILL MY FUNCTION, I REMOVED HIS HEAD FROM HIS SHOULDERS, ORDERED THE BODY BURNED BEFORE THE WHOLE OF THE FOUNTAIN CITADEL, AND OVERSAW THE CONSTRUCTION OF A STATUE DEDICATED TO YOUR MAGNIFICENCE, SO THAT THEY WOULD BE SLOW TO FORGET THE CONSEQUENCES OF BLASPHEMY.
> SINCE THEN, I HAVE YET TO HEAR A MORTAL PRAY TO ANY BUT YOU, AND I HAVE FULFILLED MY FUNCTION. I ASSUME MY INCREASED SIZE IS THE RESULT OF THEIR WORSHIP, THOUGH IT IS LIKELY I AM INCORRECT. MY INCREASE IN SIZE WAS ESPECIALLY PRONOUNCED IN MY GENITAL LENGTH AND GIRTH, AND I HAVE DOUBLED THE NUMBER OF THRONE ATTENDENTS TO SLOW THEIR USAGE RATE.
> SNAP FINGERS, I'VE COME TO BELIEVE THE FEMALE ANATOMY IS FLAWED. IN THE BEGINNING, THOSE WITH WHOM I COPULATED RETAINED THEIR TIGHTNESS FOR MONTHS, IF NOT YEARS, BUT SINCE I'VE GROWN, THEY BARELY LAST A MONTH, AND IN THE NAME OF EFFICIENCY I'M FORCED TO PLOW LOOSE PUSSY, AND MY LUST IS SLOWLY INCREASING. IN ADDITION, THEIR WILLINGNESS TO SUBMIT IS DWINDLING, AND I'VE HAD TO FORCE NINETEEN MORTALS TO SUBMIT FOR THE SAKE OF MY FUNCTION. IT IS NOT DIFFICULT, BUT IF SOMETHING DOESN'T CHANGE, I FEAR NONE WILL SATISFY MY LUSTS OF THEIR OWN VOLITION, WHICH WOULD NEGATIVELY IMPACT THE EFFICIENCY OF THE FOUNTAIN CITADEL.
The slave girl's eyes are numb, similar to the mortals trapped in your godly realm, and she does nothing, save wince each thrust, moan in a tone you can only describe as tormented lust, and shudder at the occasional, fleetingly rare orgasm.
> "What do you propose I do?"
> ACCORDING TO MY CALCULATIONS, INCREASING THE SEVERITY TEMPLE GIRL'S LUST, INCREASING THE INTENSITY OF THEIR ORGASMS, AND GRANTING THEM LIMITED CONTROL OVER THEIR INTERNAL ELASTICITY WOULD REDUCE, IF NOT REMOVE THE PROBLEM ENTIRELY.
> "I see. Is there anything else you want to tell me?"
> THE POPULATION IS THRIVING DESPITE WATER RATIONING AND INCREASED SAND-STORM FREQUENCY.
> "You're rationing water?"
> AFFIRMATIVE, ITS VOLUME IS INSUFFICIENT TO SUSTAIN TWO THOUSAND MORTALS INDEFINITELY, AND WE'VE BEEN FORCED TO MAKE THE MOST OF IT.
> "Hmm, let's see if I can't change that."
Releasing your divinity on the fountain, you cause it to double in size and splendor before the awe-struck mortals, and spread a network of pipes throughout the sand beneath the citadel. They'll irrigate the dunes, drop by drop, and if left undisturbed, in time, it may return to the soil it once was. The divine intervention for the sake of fertile land is perhaps the largest since the age of Bodo, and the titanic effort reduces your essence by nearly a fifth, but it's not enough. The faithful's thirst must be quenched, and it must be satisfied without them trekking to the spider's temple a dozen times each day.
In full-view of the community, you create a simplistic steel fountain a fourth in size, and instead of blessing it to be eternally on the cusp of overflowing, you imbue an enchantment into the steel. The fountain will produce fresh water, but it requires a ritual prayer, and a male orgasming in a female chained ten feet or closer to the fountain to function. The quantity of orgasms is intrinsically linked to the water, at roughly two gallons per jizz, and the stronger it is, the sweeter-tasting the water. Over time, it will spread a haphazard maze of pipes similar to the original, and link networks to contribute to the flow.
Sudden inspiration strikes, you sink into a year-long fugue improving the design, and when you've finished, even you're impressed with your work. Replicas of the fountain will take minimal steel to manufacture, the architecture basic enough the construction won't take long even by mortal standards, and the ritual magic woven in them is easy enough for a simpleton to do. This will be an valuable asset for the mortals of the fountain citadel, and in deserts beyond for that matter. It is glorious, and you immediately instruct the spider to educate mortals in their use and manufacture.
Gazing upon the fountain citadel, you find its aesthetic is lacking, and seeing a sandstorm sullying the fountain water irritates you. From the depths of your godly realm, you bring steel into being at the edges of your territory, mold it into a living plant similar to the rust-wheat, and instruct it to grow as if it were a tree. The results are successful, but somewhat disappointing, as they require exponentially more water than the rust-wheat only those near the fountains are able to mature, and most fail to reach their full-height within their two-generation lifespan. Still, they're hard as iron, the mortals take to smelting them as a fragile, expensive, and therefore high-class alternative to steel, and eventually, a modest forest emerges.
Your efforts to seed the fountain citadel with a desert plants are similarly unworkable, but for the opposite reason. There's too much water in the sand for them to survive, let alone thrive, and it's abundantly clear to you that livestock couldn't exist in these conditions. If you want to turn the barren desert into fertile farmland, you'll have to import the animals and vegetation yourself. Determined not to let your efforts be in vain, you transplant a slightly fleshy variant of the tendrils of your godly realm, and modify them to reproduce, and lie in ambush for incautious mortals.
You're curious to see how the slowly growing mortal culture accommodates these changes, but you have more pressing concerns at hand.
> Do you want to return to your godly realm and influence your firstborn's development, or do you want to branch out to other planes? Further, before you leave, do you want to do anything else in Eprelin?
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