Consequences of Sacrilege

The winds, waves and souls of all of earth's creatures make it a habit of influencing in humanity's path, but even these must bow before forces above even them. Things which answer to no man or woman, even those must answer and bow before the gods. Plentiful are those gods and many only look inside their own lands, on their own people's, where they're content with that which they themselves control and act as custodians over.

One of these gods who spent most of their times gazing down at their own worshipers and festivals was they great goddess of fertility of the northerners, Freya. She Looked on the humans which prayed to her and dedicated both sacrifice and festivals to her. She took great pleasure in granting both boons and curses to the little people she guarded over.

The northern people, skin fair and smooth, beards growing with wavy hair to a healthy length, stature tall and constitution muscular offered much for Freya to look and gawk over. Her people were blessed and hard working. Her disciples, as well as those from the cults of her brothers and sisters, were a people which she couldn't be happier to guard over.

Sometimes however, even in the domestic bliss which the goddess found herself in, Freya did find the urge to explore and adventure. Just as her kin, Loki, Odin, Tyr and many others, often did. On one particular such day, she found herself fly over the distant lands of the human realm, south of the homes of her own subjects.

Freya hovered over the Franks, looking upon them with trepidation as they embraced other gods, but to her it was nothing that could be helped. Those mortals were not hers to own and their destiny was their own to choose. She stayed for a bit and admired their pragmatic ways of life, finding a sort of stoic nobility in them.

The Nordic goddess continued even further south and came upon the metropolitan papacy. It wasn't a way which was too familiar with. It wasn't based on blood and family, but on law, ideals and scripture. Worship was done through ideas of what was right and just in myriads of hypotheticals. Freya liked this, even though she couldn't call this place home. There was an honor to it, not quite the honor which was afforded to warriors of Tyr and Thor, but honor nonetheless.

Her flighty path continued even further south, yielding her anguish as she reached the slave markets. Even for Freya's kind, often accused of barbarity and debauchery, slavery was a concept which made them wince. They didn't like it and heavily punished anyone of their supposed worshipers which they saw practiced the keeping of slaves, even though a blind eye was often given to those who participated in their trade.

Freya looked upon the practice with disgust, averting her gaze after just a few moments of being

exposed to the slave markets. Yet, just like the Franks, the people in the south wasn't hers to control. If they wanted to control people by the whip, then that was their imperative and nothing that she had anything to do with.

However, once the initial shock of knowledge subsided, Freya soon felt something else. Something akin to a smell, a disgusting and sickening smell, something which would have made her puke had she been capable. Despite the horrid thing Freya felt in her bones, she saw it through, metaphorically clamping her nose betwixt her fingers, as she searched through the market of destitute victims for the source of that which seemed to putrefy her very soul.

What she ultimately found first brought a deep sadness to her, a sadness which was replaced rapidly by anger, anger which grew into a burning wrath. Here, south and far away from her own lands, people had taken to remove part of their women's genitals, the labia and clitoris cut off from the main body. All in an attempt, she gathered, to make their urges a non-factor in their decision making.

Freya's wrath was immeasurable, the orgasm was a gift from her and her divine colleagues to the mortals. That anyone would even think to remove it was disgusting and reprehensible to her. Scarcely had she managed to make her way back to the northern reaches she called home, before she raised her voice and let Loki, the trickster god, know of the southern happenings and her exact emotions regarding the matter.

Loki had been relaxing when Freya rushed to his ear, disturbing him without rest for days on end. Initially he had tried ignoring what he perceived as nagging, but she proved too persistent, then he tried to fill his ears with beeswax, but she proved to loud, and finally he tried confusing her by spouting nonsense her way, but Freya stuck to her guns and didn't let the trickster god confuse her. In the end, Freya had proved persuasive and Loki soon got a move on to try to make her wish come true.

Loki donned a disguise to travel to the far of lands which the goddess had spoken of. He wore wings of a heron to fly to the strange people whose customs were a direct mockery of the very life which the divine powers which resided over the earth had endowed on humanity. His sharp eyes stayed observant on the earth beneath him, soon enough he had found what he was looking for, the people with dark skin whose women had been robbed of a holy gift.

With the flight down south undertaken, Loki soon set his eyes on how to influence the people towards the better ways with which his own people lived. After a thorough investigation, he made a plan to reimburse the poor women whose treatment had made Freya so upset.

With a deep breath that controlled life and death, transformed into a chant of magical words, Loki changed his disguise, taking the form of one of the local deities. It was against the laws of the mythologies, of which all of the world's gods had a need to follow, to appear in front of mortals. Yet the only one who suffered consequences due to this transgression of those laws, was the very deity which Loki masqueraded as.

The words which reached the ears of the dark skinned people informed them of a new ceremony which they were obliged to partake in. It involved the raising of a pole, its length extending towards the sky from its base on the ground, where two circles sat connected to the ritual device. The people were then instructed to form circles around the pole. Dancing and singing as they went.

The plan which Loki had pushed the savages towards all went just as he thought, with the ritual becoming common place almost immediately. The way in which it proceeded was very similar to a ritual which existed in the north. However for the pale skinned people with heavy beards that Loki looked over, the circles were placed at the top of the pole and the ritual guided the brutishness of nature into the earth, trading the virile violence of storms into farmland fertility.

For the southern people however, who had been instructed to place their pole upside down, quite another effect took place. It was their own virility which started to leak into the air, the manliness of the people who partook being sapped and made into an ambient energy. An ambient energy which the clever and the gods were free to form and mold into whatever they desired.

With a chirp from his winged form, Loki cashed in a favor from the eagle that originated the winds, Rasvelg, ensuring that what leaked out of humanity down in these southern lands stayed right there. It was then with great haste that he traveled back up north, to inform Freya of his doing, his way to punish the people that had angered her so. In but a short while, the dark skinned men who lived down south would notice their cocks losing length, their stature shrinking and their muscles diminishing.

Freya heard of Loki's news and couldn't be any less than delighted, not just due to how he had managed to punish the people who had been foolish enough to try to remove the orgasms of women, her gift to humanity, but what truly excited her was the opportunity which had been bestowed upon her by Loki's little trick. She took the form of a cloud and sailed south, back to the people she had taken interest in. Unbeknownst to her however, another god followed her on her way down south. Taken in by her story, Freya's brother, Frey, shadowed her, curious as to what he would find south of the mediterranean.

Back to the southwest of the red sea, Freya could see the doings of Loki. She smiled at the sheer amount of possibilities that were starting to become possible with the amount of sexual energy that hung in the air. Already most of the men were shorter than the women, the princes who had been present at the most of the newly created ritual had their masculinity so reduced as to make them develop small breasts from their inherent femininity no longer having anything fighting against it.

Freya took a deep breath, readying herself to make use of the energy which hung in the air, fragments of the men's former masculinity. It was in the moment when she stood ready to make use of it all, when her brother shouted from behind her. A big, loving, smile adorning his face as he asked her for a request on how exactly these people might be transformed with the use of the leaked masculinity. The resulting plan between the twins filled them both with happiness, as both of them got something they desired out of it.

* * *

Nils stared up into the blue sky that draped across the waters, whose vastness stretched towards the horizon. The winds were as friendly as they could be and the long-ship softly floated in the direction which they had been ordered to follow. The favorable weather was a factor which yielded the short respite he and his brothers were enjoying, the only one who kept entirely active during this hour were the chief of the ship who sat back at the rudder.

In just a moment however, the resting onboard was over with a clap from the man at the rudder. Another man started to diligently drum. To the beat, two rows of oars, one either side of the ship, moved in unison. The seafaring implements propelling the great vessel forward. Each and every man onboard using every muscle at their disposal to accelerate the dragon headed boat, stirred forward by the promise their god had made.

It had been a long journey, through the still waters of the eastern swamps, upstream until their arms ached. Down the Dnieper river into the black sea, through the narrow straits where great castles and temples were built, into the mediteranean sea. The sea faring continued southeast to a desert isthmus, over which the men needed to trek with the ship on their back, carrying their vessel across the burning sand. After which they continued south along the shores of this southern continent.

In truth Nils' and all the other men's muscles were still sore from the arduous carrying of their ship across the isthmus. Yet all of them still continued their rowing, despite the pain which emanated from their muscles. All the men onboard held their promised prize within their thoughtcages, women who could finally handle the giant cocks they had all been endowed with.

These ships who sailed south were filled with observers and worshipers of Frey, the god of king's who had managed to get drunk at the receiving of one particular sacrifice and at that moment managed to boon a whole litany of men with cocks too large for any woman to handle. In fact, the traditional nude bathing in the cold rivers during the autumn months had often left participating women straight up fearful of the monstrous schlongs which they saw.

It was with the promise of a place with women built and made for them, who would love and cherish their massive sizes to the ends of the earth and back, that the men rowed until their arms and backs pulsed and ached. They wanted to spill and spread their seed. They wanted families, loving wives for them to adore and experience life with, they wanted sons and daughters to carry on their legacy and the god which they all observed had informed them that this was the way to this goal.

It was at the most demanding part of a row when Nils finally heard the order and a moment later he felt it. The long-ship swung inwards towards the shore, the chief of the voyage had finally gotten a sign that this was the spot. This was where Frey wanted them to go and after pulling the large ships up the sandy beaches, the men took a few breaths of relief, resting their muscles but a tiny amount before they started to take the final few steps of their journey.

The sun burned brightly in the cloudless sky as the pale skinned men traveled further and further in-lands. Each step an ordeal after the long journey, yet one which they all undertook with gusto for the promise which had been made to them. For that promise, the men wouldn't turn away even if this final leg of their journey had been a million times more testing.

Nils was the first to see them, the people who Freya had spent time first punishing and then molding. There were a lot of what looked like really small, brown skinned, women; barechested, which revealed the apple sized breasts that sat right beneath narrow shoulders, their hips reaching farther out than their shoulders did. Loincloths being their only form of cover for their naked bodies. At the sight of the invaders, the little women all aimed what looked to be ridiculously light spears, weapons which would break at only a stiff breeze, at the approaching bearded men.

The men all grouped up, preparing themselves for a minor scuffle, when a different figure stepped up behind the tiny women. This one also a woman, but different from the first group, her breasts were the size of her head and her skin was just as dark and brown as the other ones. The differences between her and the spear wielding women were clear, for one she was a full head taller than the tallest spear wielder and circumference of her hips could easily encase two of the smaller figures.

She noticed the invaders straight away and it didn't take long for her to take a keen interest. It only took as long, in fact, as it took her eyes to wander down Nils' flax-pant leg. His clothes still encased him and hid most of his skin from the outside world, but what still remained hard to hide, impossible at times, was the giant shaft that snaked down his inner thigh, only terminating with its bulbous glans at his knee. The thickness more reminiscent of an arm than a mans genitals ensuring that a bulge would be noticeable even in the loose flax pants he wore.

The big breasted woman flushed almost instantly, her dark skin somehow yielding to hues of red and pink in her face as her arousal became apparent. She yelled something in a strange tongue and the smaller figures that stood before her dropped their arms and then to their knees. The tiny figures bowing their heads down, following after the big breasted blushing woman as she left, almost kissing the ground as she marched away and beckoned to the white invaders to follow her.

The entourage, of which Nils were a part of, followed the woman and her crawling companions, right up until they came upon a small village. The houses were made of sandstone and situated around a central plaza whose main feature was a water giving well. the many feet of the invaders soon found themselves at this gathering point, right next to the well.

As the pale faced men came to a standstill at the plaza and the big breasted woman resumed to hungrily spy between their legs. A gathering soon formed around the visitors, all women it seemed, either of the short and petite variety or of the type with giant breasts. What seemed to be missing for the muscular white invaders with heavy beards was men. In this moment they could only see female inhabitants of this community all around them.

The woman who had led them to this gathering point invited someone to step up and hesitantly Nils obliged. It was almost as soon as he had managed to separate himself from the group that made up his shield-brothers that the big breasted hostess dropped to her knees and crawled to him. She stroked his bulge up and down in fascination, her eyes bulging out as she leered at the indication of manmeat that trailed down his leg.

After a confused turn of his head, where Nils looked back questioningly at the people he had come here with, he loosened his pants to let the curious woman receive a better look and what popped out simply awed her. His cock had stiffened during its pat-down by the woman, ensuring that what emerged was closer to its full monstrous form than it was anything else.

The mast protruded from between the confused man's hips. It extended out from him by a little more than a forearm's length, its width became apparent for the lustful woman, who had taken a seat on her knees right before the foreign man, as close to his cock as possible. It became even more ingrained in the onlockers just how massive Nils was, as the woman's right hand only managed to stretch halfway around the shaft's titanic girth, veins traveling along the length on every unit of its surface.

At just the right time, Nils managed to pull his schlong away from the receptive woman. He screamed out passionately as he did, informing the people who listened that it was wrong and that only by following the correct ceremonies and with the proper worship of the gods set just right, only with that being done should a man ever lay with a woman. The brothers who had followed him all the way from the north agreed with him fully and the drooling locals seemed to stand in agreement with whatever propositions he brought. That being concluded, the locals started to acquiesce to the visitors demands, following their every whim, all in hopes to finally feel the massive white meat between their black thighs.

* * *

Azizi, now more commonly referred to by the name Abeba, kept his eyes focused on the fabric before him as he embroidered the exotic item. He took a moment of respite from expertly guiding the needle in his hand and placed the project down on his crotch. The motion reminded him once more of what he lacked, what had started to diminish with time. Had he been at his past size, the mass of fabric and thread wouldn't sit in quite the same position, but what he had once possessed was now no more. It having been replaced by something of the same size as a pinky-toe on one of his feet, who had, similarly, grown dainty with time.

It had been about a year since the tall strangers came to Abeba's land. Abeba had, like many other men of his tribe, initially tried to reject and repel the white strangers. The women of his tribe however had other plans, plans which no man of his tribe had any chance to resist. They would have been unable to ever resist since the physical strength of the tribe's men had been vastly overshadowed by that of the women.

Abeba once more tried his hand at guiding the needle through the fabric he had been given, his tasks and duties now being that of a servant, a servant for a woman. He was meant to perform all of her duties to nothing less than perfection. He pricked his finger on the needle he was guiding, a tiny droplet of blood emerged from his finger, the color of his palm being the only thing that matched that of the invaders, the rest of him being a deep brown.

Abeba brought his hurt finger up to his face, placing the bleeding digit in his mouth to soothe his wound. His forearm pressed against his small breasts as he did. In truth, it was hard for him to perform a woman's duties in this moment, because he was distracted. His diminutive cock being the source of his distraction, as it twitched pervasively from his thoughts of the sexual bond between the woman who ordered Abeba around and her white husband.

After many thoughts in his head, some swirling this way and others swirling that way, he decided to give up on the project he had been given for evening. Prompting instead to go out and committing to something he had been warned against partaking in.