Becoming A Greek Fertility God (part 1)
The alarm on my phone went off at 6:45, as usual, a sound engineered in hell to be impossible to sleep through. I killed it and rolled out of bed, straight into a pile of laundry that still smelled sour. My bedroom looked like a sad warehouse, a couple of boxes and a mattress on the floor, and the rest of my wardrobe in loosely organized stacks. The only wall decoration was a faded poster of a Lamborghini, tacked up so long that the corners had curled away from the paint.
I headed to the bathroom, clicked on the light and did that thing where I checked myself out in the mirror as if expecting some kind of overnight improvement. There was none. I was still me, five foot ten, with skin that could not decide if it was olive or beige and went for somewhere in between, and dark hair that always looked a week away from needing a cut. My body was what you would expect from someone who quit soccer after tenth grade, with softish arms and a flat chest, not fat but not cut either. I was average and I hated that word more than anything.
I turned sideways, watching my reflection and judging the non-existent muscle in my legs and the way my dick hung. It was not small but it was not something you would brag about on a forum. When I was little I had assumed that at some point you just turned into a man, maybe by getting hairier, taller or angrier. But now, at twenty-one, my body had hit cruise control and decided that mediocrity was the destination.
I splashed water on my face, rubbed my eyes until they stung, and tried to will myself into looking awake. I pulled on a shirt that looked clean and jeans from yesterday, then headed downstairs to the kitchen. Alexis was already there, laptop open on the counter, phone wedged between her shoulder and jaw. She was talking in that calm, hyper-professional voice she saved for clients. “Yes, yes, of course, but that is not something we can process retroactively. I know. I understand. No, listen, I am not doubting you. But we have to set boundaries.”
My family situation was a mess. My biological mother died from a drug overdose and my father disappeared when I was six. Alexis had always been on the periphery of my life. She had been my father’s therapist once, before cutting ties with him. By my teens I could not deal with the system anymore. That is when she made me an offer, a place to stay. She had a daughter, Cleopatra, around my age. We got along easily, but currently, she was studying in a different state.
Alexis was still a therapist and a pretty damn good one. I slunk past, trying not to be noticed. It never worked. She pressed the phone to her cleavage. “Morning, love. Grab a plate, I made pancakes.”
She had stacked them perfectly, dusted them with cinnamon sugar, just the way I liked. She put her phone back to her ear and started typing, eyes flicking from the screen to me and back again. Alexis could do three things at once and still make it look like she was fully present. If you asked me to list her superpowers, that would be number one. Number two would be looking like a hot woman without trying.
It was not in the embarrassing MILF way people on the internet talk about. She was just stunning. She had high cheekbones, big eyes, and skin without a single pore out of place. Her hair was the real feature, long, thick, and this shade of honey-gold that looked expensive even though I knew she was all natural. She was wearing leggings and a t-shirt with a little hole at the hem, but somehow, she still looked put together. Her figure was a subtle hourglass shape, and her breasts were amazing, which I believed to be a double D cup. I had never dared to look at her bra, even if it was tempting at times.
She ended her call with a sigh and shut the laptop. “Sorry, I know it is early. Crisis hotline, or the next best thing.”
“It is fine. You want tea?” I poured two cups without waiting for an answer.
She smiled at me. “Thank you, sweetie. You are a lifesaver.”
I forked into a pancake, watching her glance over a stack of mail on the counter, mostly bills. Her fingers kept tapping the countertop, a little sign she was stressed.
“You got work today?” she asked.
I nodded, mouth full. “Ten to seven. And tomorrow. And the day after.”
She winced sympathetically. “You are a trooper.”
“Thanks.” I tried to make it sound like I did not hate my life. “It is not so bad. Sometimes I get to listen to music in the stockroom.”
She laughed a little and nudged my shoulder. “Always the optimist.”
She looked at me then, long and hard, like she could see past the jokes. “You know, Alexander, I am proud of you, right?”
“Yeah. You tell me every day.” I smiled. “Thanks, Alexis.”
“You are a good man,” she said, and I believed her, even though it did not line up with anything I actually felt about myself.
She finished her coffee and looked at the clock. “Cleo called last night. She is doing amazing in her lab. The professor wants to write a paper with her.”
“That is great,” I said. “You should brag more.”
She rolled her eyes. “She is still my problem child. Got caught sneaking alcohol into the dorm last week.”
“Legend,” I said, and it made her laugh again.
“She misses you, you know,” Alexis said. “You should call her.”
I nodded, though I probably would not. Cleopatra had always been better at the new life thing.
The conversation lagged. Alexis glanced at the bills, started to say something, then changed her mind and grabbed her purse. “I will be home late. Do not wait up.”
“You got a date?” I waggled my eyebrows.
“If you call Zoom group therapy a date, then yes. Very hot and heavy.”
She ruffled my hair as she passed. “Love you. Hang in there, okay?”
She kissed my cheek and headed out the door, leaving a hint of her perfume and a damp spot where her lips had been.
I sat there, chewing pancakes and staring at my reflection in the microwave door. Some mornings I looked at myself and thought at least you made it this far. Other mornings I wondered how I would ever get out.
*****
I worked at a luxurious clothing store, and the drive to Beverly Hills took forty minutes. My car, a 97 Corolla with a cracked windshield and one blue replacement door, looked like it had been borrowed from a police impound. The AC did not work, so I rode with the windows down. Other cars on the road were German, Italian or at least detailed and shiny. The Lamborghini poster in my bedroom felt more like a joke than a realistic dream.
Pulling up to the storefront was always the worst part. The display windows were big enough to house a small apartment. I parked two blocks away, feeling like a trespasser the whole walk over.
I entered, and Ms. Blackwell was already rearranging a table display. “You are early,” she said, without looking up.
I clocked in and grabbed the rolling rack. The store smelled like Velvet Icon, something so expensive I would probably never afford it. Every label was French or Italian. I liked the routine, though. There was a logic to it.
At 10:00 the doors unlocked and the first wave drifted in. The woman who came in first wore leggings and a loose white button-down. She looked like she had walked off a magazine set. “Just browsing, thanks.” Her voice was low and lazy, which sounded sexy even when it was not meant to. She drifted around, running her hand down fabrics, brushing so close I caught her lemon and musk perfume. She left without buying anything. I wondered if she noticed me at all.
Then the morning rush. Two guys my age, shirts that probably cost more than my car. They pulled people in without effort, women gravitating toward them. A blonde in a red silk blouse asked me for a dress in a zero. Her eyes followed me. “You are fast.” She smiled with a hint of approval, then moved back to the tall, rich guy.
I went back to folding, pretending not to listen as she laughed at something he said. That was my whole life, helping people find the things they wanted, being close enough to see it all, but never close enough to matter.
The hours passed in a fixed pattern. By closing, the store looked untouched again. I clocked out and stepped outside. The sun was lower, gold-washing the windows. I walked to my car in silence, letting the luxury sink in, feeling how close I was to the world I wanted and how impossible it felt.
*****
Traffic back was worse. In the lane beside me, a neon green Lamborghini purred and accelerated. The engine growl vibrated in my chest. “Someday,” I whispered. But even as I said it, I knew it was a lie.
By the time I pulled into our driveway, the house was dark. I ate leftovers cold, standing at the kitchen counter. I was twenty-one years old, living under Alexis’ roof, with no degree and no prospects, just folding shirts for people who spent more on lunch than I made in a day.
But then the knock on the door surprised me. Through the peephole, I saw a man in a dark suit. “Alexander Orthios? My name is Martin Reeves. I represent the estate of Philip Orthios. Your father.”
I opened, and he told me my father had passed three days ago. I waited for grief or anger. Nothing came. Then he said, “Mr. Orthios left you a substantial inheritance, including a multi-million-dollar property and his business interests. The main property alone is valued at approximately twelve million dollars.”
That stopped me cold. “What?”
Right when he was about to answer, Alexis pulled up. She tried to send him away, but we took his card. Inside, the tension followed us.
“I thought my dad was just some junkie,” I said.
“That was not a lie, not exactly.” Alexis took a deep breath. “Your father was not just a failure. He belonged to a rare bloodline. An ancient one. Connected to Priapus, a fertility deity. The business he left behind is a high-end fertility clinic. But it is not the kind you are thinking of.”
I stared at her. “A fertility god? Are you serious right now?”
“I know how it sounds. But there is power in that bloodline, real power. Your father had fertility powers. It was not normal. Nothing about it was normal.”
She explained it made you very potent. You would get multiple erections a day without effort, with significantly stronger stamina and a sex drive that would exhaust normal men. “Your father could impregnate dozens of women in a single day without needing a break.”
She explained how it changed how people saw you, especially women. It made you irresistible and magnetic. They became fixated, obsessed. They wanted to please you. It affected all women around you. She also explained what happened to my father, how he succumbed to drugs and alcohol.
She could not quite meet my eyes. “If you choose this path, it would change things between us too. The power affects all women around you, even me. Ways I have not fully come to terms with.”
I thought about my invisible life, the bills and the way people looked past me. “I am tired of being average. If this is real, it feels like a way out.”
She nodded. “We need to see Helen.”
Helen was Alexis best friend, tall, confident, sexy and of Greek descent. But what I didn’t know was that she was a priestess of Aphrodite. And she could awaken the dormant power through a ritual.
Before going to bed, Alexis kissed my forehead. “Try to sleep … it’s been a long day.”
I nodded and closed my eyes.
*****
The following day, we drove along the coast to Helen’s Mediterranean villa on a cliff.
Once we were there, Helen greeted us warmly, hugging Alexis tight, then me. Her body pressed against mine, soft curves, warm skin, jasmine and musk. Her white summer dress clung to her body, neckline low, which flashed her tan cleavage. She was stunning as usual.
Inside, amid Greek artwork of gods and mortals intertwined, some explicit, Helen listened as Alexis explained why we were here. “He knows. He wants to awaken it,” Alexis said.
Helen studied me. “The awakening is not something to take lightly. Once begun, it cannot be undone. Your body will transform, stronger and more virile. You can have as much sex as you want without tiring, impregnating dozens of women a day. But the true change is in the essence you will emit. It is a pull that affects women. It creates a hunger in them. They will want to be close to you. They will want to please you. And it will affect all women in your presence.”
I asked about control, about my father losing himself to excess and drugs. Helen warned the power amplifies what is already there. Restraint or temptation, it magnifies both.
“I understand the risk,” I said. “But staying as I am is not an option anymore. I am tired of feeling like I do not matter. I want to become something more. Something powerful. I want to become a god.”
Helen smiled, pleased. “I will prepare the room. It will be intense. Afterward, you will sleep for about a day.”
Alexis and I stayed in the kitchen till Helen had prepared the living room. She called for me when she was gone.
Alexis touched my arm. “I will stay here. This is something you have to do alone. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The living room had been transformed into a sacred space, circular area with candles, amber light, erotic tapestries on the walls depicting worship and ecstasy. Incense hung thick in the air, making me aroused. Helen stood in the center in a thin white robe that clung to her curves, dark hair adorned with white flowers. She glowed from within.
Helen stood before me, her eyes level with mine. She explained, her voice serious despite the intimacy of the moment, “This is an invocation, a sacred act that will awaken what sleeps inside you. Once we begin, there is no undoing it.” She searched my eyes. “You must choose this freely.”
“I choose it,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected.
She nodded once, accepting my decision. Without another word, she reached for the hem of my t-shirt and slowly lifted it over my head, her fingers brushing against my skin as she did so. I stood before her, bare-chested and suddenly self-conscious about my average physique.
Helen didn’t seem to notice my insecurity. She reached for the small vessel of oil and poured a small amount into her palm. The scent was sandalwood, citrusy, and underneath it all, a musk that seemed to speak directly to something primal inside me.
“Focus on my touch,” she instructed as her hands pressed against my chest, spreading the oil in circles. “Stay present. Feel everything.”
Her fingers worked, tracing patterns across my skin that felt both random and precise. The oil warmed under her touch, seeming to sink deeper than just the surface. My breath quickened as her hands moved lower, across my stomach, then back up to my shoulders.
When she finished, she reached for the goblet of wine. “Drink,” she said, holding it to my lips. “Not for intoxication, but as part of the offering. This is shared between us, between the mortal and divine.”
I sipped the wine, which was richer and stronger than any I’d tasted before. It seemed to burn a path down my throat, warming me from the inside out.
The fruit remained untouched on its plate, and when I glanced at it questioningly, Helen simply shook her head slightly. “Its purpose is symbolic, not meant for consumption, at least not yet.”
Helen began to speak then, calling on Aphrodite to witness and guide us, acknowledging Priapus as the source of the power that lay dormant within me.
“We ask that the blood of Priapus that flows through this man be awakened,” she said, her hands moving to the button of my jeans. “That his gift be realized in fullness.”
She undid my pants and slowly pushed them down along with my underwear. My erection sprang free, harder than I’d ever been in my life. Helen smiled, trying hard not to grin.
“I’ve thought about this,” I admitted, the words tumbling out. “Since I was a teenager … being with you like this.”
Her smile deepened. “And I’ve thought of you,” she confessed. “Watching you grow into a man, knowing what slept inside you.” She reached for the tie of her robe. “Knowing this day might come.”
She undid the knot and let the fabric fall away from her body. I couldn’t help but stare, drinking in every inch of her revealed skin. Her breasts were full and perfect, somewhere between a C and a D, tipped with dark nipples that stood erect. Her waist curved inward before flaring into generous hips, and between her thighs, I could see the neatly trimmed dark hair covering her sex. Her skin was flawless, glowing with that same inner light I’d noticed before.
She looked like a goddess come to life. The curves of her body told stories of pleasure and experience, of wisdom gained through centuries of worship.
“You’re gorgeous,” I whispered, the words inadequate for what stood before me.
Helen reached for me, her hands sliding up my chest to my shoulders. “Let me guide you,” she said, gently pressing me backward until my legs hit the edge of the platform. I sank down onto the soft fabrics, and she followed, her body moving over mine.
Her thighs straddled my hips, her breasts swaying tantalizingly close to my face. I reached up to touch her, but she caught my wrists, placing them at my sides.
“Not yet,” she murmured.
She bent to kiss me, her lips soft against mine. What began as gentle quickly deepened, with hot breath and plenty of tongue. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, and I tasted the wine we’d shared, sweeter now on her lips. Her hands roamed my body, tracing paths that seemed to leave trails of fire in their wake.
As she moved against me, I began to feel something strange: a warmth spreading from where our bodies touched, radiating outward. It was deeper than arousal. I could feel energy flowing from her into me, pulsing in rhythm with our accelerating heartbeats.
Images began to flash behind my closed eyelids: a woman of impossible beauty rising from seafoam. It was Aphrodite. I saw temples where women danced in ecstatic worship, their bodies offered in service to divine pleasure. I saw men with my father’s face, surrounded by adoring women, their bodies transformed by the same power now awakening in me.
Helen guided me inside her with a smooth motion of her hips, and I gasped as I penetrated her. She was tight, wet and snug. As she began to move, setting a slow flow, the visions intensified. I could feel something changing inside me as if my very essence was being rewritten.
“Open yourself,” Helen whispered, her voice seeming to come from everywhere at once. “Accept the gift of your bloodline.”
I surrendered completely to Helen’s instruction, letting go of any resistance. The moment I did, a surge of energy coursed through my body like fire. Helen’s pussy gripped my cock tightly, each undulation of her hips sending waves of pleasure through me. I could feel her inner walls pulsating, massaging my length with deliberate control as she worked her body against mine.
“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes half-lidded but focused entirely on me. “Feel it awakening inside you.”
And I did feel it, something ancient and powerful stirring in my blood. With each stroke of her pussy, Helen’s wetness increased, coating my shaft with her essence. The slick, hot friction was maddening. Her pussy seemed to know exactly how to squeeze, when to relax, creating a flow that felt both natural and supernatural.
I couldn’t help myself any longer. I reached up to cup her breasts, feeling their weight in my palms. Her nipples hardened against my touch, and she moaned, arching her back to press more firmly into my hands, feeding me her tits.
“Your power grows,” she whispered, grinding herself down harder on my cock. “I can feel it swelling inside you.”
The heat between us intensified, and suddenly I could see golden light emanating from where our bodies joined. Helen’s body seemed to shimmer with divine energy that flowed into me with each thrust. Her pussy contracted around me, drawing me deeper into her womanhood.
“Let me...” I said, wanting to move, to take control.
Helen nodded, understanding my need. She rolled onto her back, never breaking our connection. Now above her, I drove into her, my hips moving with power I hadn’t possessed before. Her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me deeper as our flesh slapped.
“Gods, yes,” she moaned.
Her breasts pressed against my chest, her hardened nipples dragging across my skin with each thrust. The sensation of her soft flesh against mine, combined with the tight, wet heat gripping my cock, was overwhelming. I could feel her breath hot against my neck, coming in shorter gasps as I increased my pace.
The visions returned more vividly. I saw Aphrodite in her full glory, beckoning to me from across centuries. Behind her stood Priapus, his massive erection a symbol of the power now flowing through my veins. They were watching, approving and bestowing their divine blessing on our union.
“Alexander,” Helen moaned, her inner walls clenching around me. “Take what is yours. Claim your birthright.”
I felt my orgasm building, spreading from my core throughout my entire body. The golden light grew brighter, enveloping us both.
“I can’t hold back,” I said, feeling the pressure mounting to an almost painful degree.
“Don’t,” she said. “Fill me with your seed. Complete the awakening.”
With a final, powerful thrust, I buried myself to the hilt inside her and exploded. My release felt endless, pulsing from me in hot waves that seemed to go on forever. Helen moaned, her body arching off the platform as her own orgasm hit with devastating force. Her pussy spasmed wildly around my cock, milking every drop from me.
The golden light became blinding, and the visions solidified before me. Aphrodite reached out to touch my forehead. Behind her, Priapus nodded in acknowledgment, passing something intangible yet essential to my being. Their power flowed through Helen and into me, remaking me from the inside out.
The intensity became too much. Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision as the pleasure and power overwhelmed my senses. The last thing I saw was Helen’s face, transfigured in ecstasy, her eyes glowing with divine light. Then everything went black.
*****
I woke with a jolt, sunlight streaming through the windows and hitting me directly in the face. For a moment I could not remember where I was. My mind felt foggy like I had been asleep for days. As I blinked away the brightness, I realized I was still in Helen’s living room lying on the ritual platform now covered with soft sheets.
My body felt strange. When I tried to move, I noticed the sheets were tented dramatically over my crotch. Looking down I saw I had the most massive morning erection of my life straining against the fabric like it was trying to escape.
Voices came from the kitchen. Helen and Alexis talked in hushed tones. Helen was saying the transformation was more powerful than any she had witnessed before and that his energy was overwhelming. Alexis’s voice sounded strained as she asked how he took the ritual.
Helen laughed softly. “He took to it naturally. The bloodline is strong in him much stronger than I expected.”
I shifted and the conversation stopped. Helen appeared in the doorway. “Welcome back,” she said. “How are you feeling?”
I could only stare at the enormous tent in the sheets. Helen followed my gaze and giggled. “Ah yes. That is to be expected.” She pulled the sheet away revealing my new cock. It was massive, longer and thicker than I could have imagined possible, standing proudly upright with veins running along its length.
“My god,” I said.
“Indeed.” Helen wrapped her hand around it or tried to as her fingers could not completely encircle its girth. “This is a part of your transformation.” When she stroked it once from base to tip pleasure exploded through me in waves. Every nerve felt heightened and sensitive.
“It is so sensitive,” I said.
“Your awareness has been heightened in every way,” she explained. “Every sensation will be more intense now.”
I noticed I was drooling in my sleep another side effect. Helen wiped my face gently. “You have been asleep almost a full day.”
She helped me stand. I stumbled forward and she caught me. Looking down at her I asked if she had shrunk. Helen laughed. “No Alexander. You have grown taller.” I was now looking at things from a higher vantage point. My chest felt solid when she knocked on it. My hair was thicker and fuller and I had a healthy glow.
I could not believe the changes.
Helen called out, “Alexis! He is awake and on his feet!”
Alexis appeared and stopped short her eyes widening. She hurried over and wrapped me in a tight hug. I towered over her and my erection pressed against her body. It felt good. “How are you feeling?” she asked pulling back.
“Great,” I said surprised by my deeper voice. “Better than great actually.”
We moved to the kitchen where Helen prepared food. As I ate I noticed both women drawn to me sitting closer and touching my arm. Helen admired me openly. Alexis stole glances then looked away.
“How soon can I see the clinic?” I asked.
Alexis said we needed to handle the property transfer first then we could go. “Sounds good,” I said. “I am ready for whatever comes next.” I stretched feeling the power in my new taller stronger body. “I feel divine.”
Alexis looked at me for a long moment her eyes tracing my frame and the bulge in the robe. She took a deep breath. “Are you prepared for the fertility clinic Alexander? Are you prepared to make millions impregnating and loving women?”
I met her gaze without hesitation. “Yes,” I said.
Part 2 will be up soon!
Want to see what happens at the clinic sooner?
Read the full story on Amazon → Becoming A Greek Fertility God
