Sort of. It's not easy

Shortly after ejaculating for the first time, Layla realized that it was already ten o'clock, and she'd spent most of the morning gawking at herself and jerking off. She sped through the cleanup process, wiping down her mirror and floor of any residue she might've left, and a quick rinse washed away the cum trails on her lower half too. Layla shoved her junk into the baggiest pair of sweatpants she could find, grabbed her bag, and was out the door.

"Shit, I'm gonna be late." she cursed. Layla hated being falling behind in class.

College life wasn't always easy or fun for Layla, and now she had a whole new heap of problems to add into the mix. She skipped breakfast to make it in time for her first lecture of the day. There, her combined hunger and anxiety made it difficult to pay attention. She played it off to the best of her ability, but you best believe she was the first student out the door when class ended.

Her other morning class wasn't much better. Though she'd snuck in a meal in her down time, Layla had a whole new problem to deal with: the awkward boner.

"I'm twenty years old! I thought I could leave sexual awkwardness behind with puberty!" Layla muttered to herself partway through.

The course content itself wasn't helping. This was her anthropology class, and it just so happened that today they were discussing the cultural impact of clothes and nudity.

Once more, Layla wasted no time fleeing at the lecture's end. Only now, she made a mad dash for the bathroom instead of the cafeteria.

"Go away go away go away!" she whisper-screamed at her erect penis from behind the safety of a stall.

Unlike this morning, she had no intent on savoring the moment. It was strictly a biological response to her situation. Layla considered herself lucky none of the other girls were around to hear her pounding away at her cock, or her not-so-subtle moan when she finally came into the toilet bowl.

Layla pulled up her pants and exited the stall, moving to wash her sticky hands in the sink.

"You're doing it wrong, you know." a familiar voice echoed.

When Layla looked up into the mirror she yelped out of surprise. The demonic form of Slaanesh had replaced Layla's counterpart in the reflective silver.

"Jesus! Don't do that! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Layla cried.

"Oh, you and I both know I wouldn't let that happen. No fun in just killing you." the chaos god remarked.

"So what do you want now? I'm doing something wrong?" Layla asked.

"Yes. You're supposed to enjoy the gift I've given you. Masturbation is beautiful, the art of self-gratification, not just some magic spell you cast that makes erections go away."

"Well it's kind of hard to do that when I have a schedule and appearances to keep! I don't want people thinking I'm some sort of freak! And I can't live a normal life if I have to jack off every hour!" Layla ranted.

"Oh dear, society's really done a number on you, huh? Listen, Layla. When you woke up today, you took that delicious cock in hand and had the best orgasm of your life. And when you were shooting that load, I was right there with you, drinking in all that ecstasy right along side you. That's all I want, Layla, for all mortals to feel that good, to be as close to them as I am to you. Is that really so bad?"

The deities' words were sincere, profound even.

"I get that, really, I do. But I don't know how to make that happen and not end up an outcast. Not yet, at least. If it's even possible." Layla reasoned.

"I know it is. And I know you can do it." Slaanesh comforted her. "I apologize if I've seemed ignorant to your plights. But it will get better, you'll see."

Layla smiled weakly.

"Thanks. Honestly, you're being a lot **** than I expected. It's.... nice. Before I go, can I ask you a question? Why did you give me a cock in the first place?"

"Oh, that? I assumed my disciple might enjoy having a body more akin to her patron's. Was I wrong?" Slaanesh answered.

Layla looked down to her crotch, where her deflated penis sat undetected.

"No. You were right."

Layla grabbed her bag and left the bathroom feeling a little better about herself. And now, she was developing a plan for how to proceed. If Layla was going to truly become Slaanesh's herald and free herself from persecution, she'd need to stop acting like a lowly disciple, and start acting like a prophet. And every good prophet has followers.