The spirit, a shimmering entity shrouded in a viscous pink hue, giggled with a predatory delight that echoed only within the silent confines of its own consciousness. "Found you... It's going to be fun... Fufu~." It hovered momentarily above a modest hut, a dwelling constructed of mud, thatch, and ancient stones that housed a family of seven. Within these walls resided Rana, the stern patriarch; his wife; their two daughters, Sara and Lara; their son, Manu; and Yasu, the husband of the eldest daughter. But the spirit's focus was singular: the nineteen-year-old youth named Fuyu.
Fuyu was an enigma, a beautiful stranger found half-dead in the myriad, mysterious depths of the forest and brought into the fold. "This person surely doesn't look like an ordinary person. His looks are exquisite; it will be easy to get along with him, for I truly loathe the sight of the ugly," the spirit whispered to the shadows before diving, a streak of rose-colored light, into the sleeping form of the young man.
The next morning, the sun pierced through the gaps in the thatched roof, casting golden needles across the floor where the family slept in a communal huddle.
"Fuyu, wake up. Father is calling for you. You need to go and help him with the work in the fields."
The voice was sweet, a feminine melody belonging to a girl in her early twenties. Fuyu let out a long, rattling yawn, his limbs feeling strangely heavy, as if his muscles had been replaced with lead and fire overnight. "Ahh... yawn... Yeah, yeah, I remember. So, stop shaking me," he grumbled. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, but a peculiar sensation—a thrumming, insistent heat—was radiating from his lower abdomen.
"What? I'm only thinking of your own good..."
Fuyu looked up. Standing over him was Sara, his twenty-two-year-old step-sister. Her deep blue hair fell in a silken waterfall behind her back, contrasting with the vibrant green of her attire. She wore a primitive skirt and top fashioned from broad, waxy leaves. Despite her pregnancy, which caused a gentle bulge in her belly, her assets remained far too bountiful to be contained by such meager foliage. She seemed entirely unconcerned with the modesty of her outfit.
Fuyu blinked, confused by her sudden silence. He noticed her eyes were fixed, wide and shimmering with a strange intensity, on a specific spot between his legs. He followed her gaze and his heart nearly leapt into his throat. Because he slept in the raw, without his leafy coverings, his manhood was on full display. It wasn't just visible; it was standing tall, a rigid pillar of heat waving in the morning air, pulsating with a life of its own.
"What? Why is it standing like that...?" Fuyu stammered, his face erupting in a scarlet fever. "It last happened years ago... but now, out of sudden...?"
He felt a primal, intense heat boiling within his marrow. For eighteen years, Fuyu had been a paragon of innocence. Unlike the other boys in the village who obsessed over the village girls, Fuyu had remained a virgin by choice and lack of interest. He wasn't slow, but the "urges" his friends boasted about had always felt like a distant language he didn't care to speak. But now, the spirit's presence had unlocked a floodgate. The blood was rushing to his weapon with such force it felt as though it might burst, radiating a flame that demanded to be quenched.
"Hmm... it seems someone has finally reached the age of marriage," Sara said, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her lips. Her eyes traveled up and down the length of him, a flicker of enthusiasm crossing her face. "Ha! Although the other boys are far ahead of you, it's alright. Finally, you will also get married. I am very happy for you."
In their tribe, early marriage was the norm, and Fuyu's lack of development had been a point of quiet concern. Sara reached out, her hand resting supportively on his back, though her gaze lingered a second too long on the thick stick between his legs. For reasons she couldn't explain, the sight of Fuyu—the boy she expected to be a monk forever—suddenly transformed into a man of such potent vitality sent a thrill through her own body.
"Don't worry too much, Fuyu. It's perfectly normal," she said, her voice dropping to a soothing coo. "You've reached your prime. I'll tell Mother to find you a partner soon."
Fuyu pulled back, his hand hovering uncertainly near himself. "What...? Find a partner? I don't want to get married..."
"What? Why not...?" Sara asked, genuinely baffled. In this world, a male's greatest desire was to secure a wife, or a group of them, to ensure his legacy.
"I just... I just don't want to..." Fuyu whispered.
"I know you wanted to remain a virgin forever because you weren't getting erected like the others," Sara said, her eyes softening as she tried to bridge the gap. "But the case is different now. Believe it or not, your body is screaming for a girl."
"No... no I don't—"
"Well, never mind," Sara interrupted, patting his shoulder. "We can discuss your reluctance later. For now, get ready. You must go to the fields with Father, Manu, and Yasu. If you are any later, Father will scold you. Go, freshen up."
Fuyu nodded, scrambled to his feet, and bolted toward the washing area, his face still burning.
After he left, Sara let out a long, shaky sigh. She closed her eyes, her hand moving to her pregnant belly. The image of Fuyu's sheer size was burned into her retinas.
"His thing was big, no?"
Sara jumped at the voice. Her sister, Lara, was standing behind her, peering toward the door Fuyu had just exited. Lara was only a year younger than Sara, possessing the same striking features but with a more stubborn, fiery disposition.
"I thought it would be small since he never showed any interest before," Lara continued, her expression one of clinical curiosity mixed with something darker.
"Haha... true," Sara chuckled, her voice a bit breathless. "Even Manu and your husband, Yasu... they aren't that big. Not even close."
Lara leaned back, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm... true. Brother Manu is quite modest, and Yasu... well, you know. But tell me, sister... as I am to be married soon, should I seek a man with a big thing or a small one?"
Sara turned to her sister with a coy, wicked smile. "Well, in the end, you'll just end up pregnant regardless. But I suppose... a big one would be fun. It can stir so deep inside you... it's a different kind of pleasure entirely."
Lara nodded solemnly. Unlike Sara, she had resisted marriage for years, mirroring Fuyu's stubbornness. But looking at the empty doorway, she felt a strange shift in her perspective.
"Let's go help Mother with breakfast," Sara said, shaking off the thoughts. Oh, damn... what is getting into you, Sara? she scolded herself internally. You shouldn't have stared. You are a married woman. You must uphold the morals Mother taught you. If Yasu ever knew these thoughts were dancing in your head... your reputation would be ruined.
Meanwhile, in the "bathroom"—a cramped enclosure of jagged stone, mud, and dry hay—Fuyu stood in the shadows. The heat in his groin had reached a fever pitch. He looked down, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch himself.
When his palm closed around his weapon, he gasped. It was so large that his hand couldn't even encircle the base. Using both hands, he began to explore the crimson, hot tip. "I never felt this urge... Hiss... so good... why... why does it feel like this?"
He began to stroke, his movements rough and unpracticed. Every slide of his palms sent jolts of electricity through his spine, making his knees buckle. His breathing deepened into ragged, heavy gulps of air. As the friction increased, the tip began to feel dry and sensitive, the pleasure veering into a sharp, insistent sting.
He grabbed a pot of cold water and splashed it over himself. The initial shock made him gasp, but the fire within was a forest fire that a mere cup of water couldn't extinguish. The blood flow only intensified. He resumed the stroking with a desperate, frantic energy.
Suddenly, his entire body stiffened. With a pleasure-filled groan that bordered on a sob, Fuyu experienced his first release. He watched in stunned silence as his large thing and heavy balls pumped out thick, yellowish seeds in a series of powerful, long-range shots. The liquid splashed against the stone platform, stinky and viscous.
Huffing and exhausted, Fuyu watched his weapon slowly go flaccid. He reached down, touching the sticky, yellowish liquid with a fingertip. "What is this? Something came out...?" He sniffed it, a look of profound confusion on his face. He was a complete novice to the mechanics of his own body.
"Forget it, I don't have time for this," he muttered, shaking the thoughts away. Despite the lingering urge to touch himself again, the fear of his father's temper won out. He quickly finished his routine and stepped back into the main hall.
The women were already serving a hearty breakfast. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and the clinking of wooden bowls—a picture of a happy, domestic tribe.