Dawn. I had been probing the peripheries of my deviant dreams long before then. With the rise of the four broken moons that night, I was to be ceremoniously bred. The rituals’ themes were not new to me. I had witnessed them many times, as had the others in the village, as had the others in the other villages throughout the colony. Yet every time, the rituals themselves were fresh.
The Ministry gave me a week to prepare. “I’ll be naked,” I uneasily explained to Jan.
Some best friend—she laughed at me. “So will the eight studs, Harli.”
My mind had dodged the material parts of the ritual, as was its wont for most of my life’s challenges. Even now, I’d prefer to say that I was to be fertilized or inseminated, or any number of more polite terms but the fact was that I was to be fucked from dusk until dawn by eight men, strangers or at best (or worst), acquaintances.
“Have you ever thought about who you’d choose to be a stud?”
I had. Every woman thinks about who she’d choose if she herself was chosen to be a Mare and it’s often a wine-fueled topic of discussion or gossip.
Whenever they needed to take a paddle to the gene pool, the chances were that they had already picked the studs soon after they identified the Mare. “They” are the Genetic Diversification Ministry, which was ordained aboard ship long before planetfall and the establishment of the colony.
The population had been in danger of a genetic collapse so the governors tried to impose and restrict mating amongst the people. That approach was expectedly not well received even with the most faithful. Instead, the Ministry sanctified the precious few women who were both genetically correct and willing to pledge their wombs to the good of the people.
Generations later, nature and the goddesses gave us the Mares, and then the goddesses made me one.
“Am I bad?” I asked Jan. I had been taught to be modest. We were all taught to be modest. “Am I bad that I want to bare myself now? Am I bad that I’ve always wanted to bare myself?”
Jan hugged me. “No, not at all. It’s a Mare thing, Harli. Every Mare I’ve painted has felt the same way. And trust me, not every woman is as modest as you’ve forced yourself to be.”
Every Mare’s body is painted for each ritual of the breeding ceremony and my dearest friend wanted to clothe me with her brush strokes. I was doubly blessed.
~~~
CEREMONY
Even with all those squirmy babies wrestling within the walls of her stretched-out belly, the animated Prima darted between the four stages of the amphitheater. Malorie had been the Prima for many years, taking a break only once when her predecessor, her mother, returned when Malorie herself was chosen as Mare.
Six independently bouncing breasts, sore enough without the extra jostling, meant six babies. Malorie blotted a tissue on one leaky teat after another. She wasn’t due, but she was close. What a ceremony it would have been if she had delivered while I was being bred!
Jan made me stand still in the wings as she dabbed her loaded brush on me. As good as she was, she marveled at Malorie’s body paint. “I need to find out who her artist is. My goddess—the colors, the shading…” She helped me into my gown.
Primas officiate in the nude and Mares traditionally forgo clothing from the breeding rituals at least through the deliveries. I knew Mares who needed to be reminded that some places are not clothing-optional, even for them. I wondered how long it would be after my insemination before the last veil of my modesty would fall away; I couldn't imagine. Malorie made it look easy, even natural.
Earth, air, water, and fire, four rituals, eight studs—the eager villagers congregated as the sun neared the horizon. My heart pounded in my chest like Malorie’s babies pounded against her uterus. I was so scared of being a disappointment. Malorie paused long enough to kiss my hair as she rushed by. “You’ll be fine; you’ll be great.”
The Prima glittered before the crowd. She always commanded attention even off-stage but her charged condition and spectacular body paint awed them into silence before she hit center stage.
“Our ancestors who long ago emigrated from a planet we only know from textbooks and stories would be proud. We have maintained and I dare say added to our genetic heritage. The goddesses have sent Mares to us and we thank them. We thank them for the Genetic Diversification Ministry and the wisdom that they bestowed upon them.
“Harli is our newest Mare—remember her name and praise her strength. Encourage her this night as she gives her body to her community so that we might share that strength.”
Malorie caressed her babies, gazing at the congregation as they gazed upon her.
“On old Earth, most were fertile with an abundance of genetic choices. Here, most are not and choices are limited. The Ministry, conceived aboard ship, has guided our colony even as the goddesses blessed us with Mares.”
I took a deep breath and held it. Jan was at my side, tactfully ignoring my wetted fingers.
~~~
EARTH
Earth. Once and never our home, we call the fertile soil under our feet after you.
A circle of colorful rocks with a bed of crisscrossed fronds was at the center of the intimate, sandy stage.
My ruby red gown had four long slits that reached its hem: one from my breastbone, one from the small of my bare back, and two by my ribs. I took long strides across the sand to tantalize the spectators with glimpses of my painted flesh. The gown’s deep, scooped neck brashly stopped shy of my plumb nipples. The stage lights came down until a single spot was cast upon me. A simple touch of the clasp below caused all of the silky fabric to billow and float to the ground.
Jan’s canvas was my body where she had painstakingly painted melding vistas of ancestral Earth and our true home planet, countless lightyears away from there. Offering the crowd my upthrust tail, I strutted in smaller and smaller circles until I knelt down and regally settled close to the earth on my forearms and calves. I planted my ankles into the sandy soil, impatient to be mounted.
My first stud’s arrival was heralded by the appreciative murmurs of the crowd. With my forehead pinned to the ground, they knew before I did the man who was about to breed me. I sensed him before I felt his cock tap against my ass. He put his full weight on me and breathed behind my ear, “Hello, Harli.”
Lek! The Ministry was generous and gave me an experienced and familiar lover as the opening stud! Lek wrapped his arms under my belly and teased my entrance with his manhood. He wet it top and bottom, resisting my wriggling to slide him inside.
“Don't tease me, Lek. Don't tease the congregation. You're my first and my first. Give us the breeding we deserve.”
Ooh, I engulfed him then. Inward or outward, hilted or withdrawn, his cock met no resistance regardless of how much my pussy fought to grip his girth. The pitch of his pounding increased as he fucked me perhaps more for the enjoyment of our attentive witnesses than for his own pleasure. I drew in the mixture of his breath along with the earthy aromas of the herbs and flowers scattered throughout my bed of leaves.
I gasped at a violent thrust, not his last but the first of his short, fretful drives to completion. I howled like a cat as he pumped and dumped his cum. He lay panting on my back and I wondered, even hoped, that I had already become impregnated. I shivered at the thought, yet I was still anxious for my next mating even as my cunt sucked on the straw of Lek’s withering, withdrawing cock.
I clamped his seed in as I had been taught. His was only the first—a cool breeze chilled my sweaty, exposed back while I anticipated his replacement.
As the earth is seeded, so is the womb. Varied seed makes for a lusty crop.
Halting footsteps shuffled across the mat. A long time after a brief touch, soft, trembling hands held my hips. This stud was neither familiar nor experienced. My place was to stay grounded and so I remained silent as his tip tottered between my legs. As wet as I was, my patience soon ran dry.
“Fuck me!” I whispered loud enough for only him to hear. He lay and mounted me, his young steel only needing that push to push. He didn’t move much after he moaned and I couldn’t easily guide him from my almost prone position. I arched and hunched my back, establishing the rhythms he readily took up, thank the goddesses, but not for long.
As happy as I was to feel his warm splash, I couldn't risk that he hadn't given all that he could. He lifted himself off of my back but I uprooted my feet from the sand to entwine our ankles. Once he was trapped, I whispered, “You're not done.”
“But, I...”
“But you're a stud breeding a Mare.” The eyes of the hushed villagers must have weighed on him. “Fuck me like an animal, stud!” I didn’t know what I meant by that. It meant something to him, though, as he jerked our hips together and humped me like he’d hump an old pillow. I made encouraging, appreciative noises throughout the not entirely unpleasant ordeal.
I openly sighed as he emptied himself—really emptied himself. He slapped my ass before strutting away, full of himself but no longer full of sperm and that’s what really mattered. I lifted my tail high to make sure every drop could find its way to an egg.
~~~
AIR
We fell from the sky in search of heaven. The scents of living surround us even when the winds take our breath away.
As I hovered just above a gently-humming disc, the surrounding audience could almost touch me. My body glowed blue and white as if my silhouette was plucked from a mid-afternoon sky. I twisted my torso and tested my limbs but remained where I was. My illusions of flying were dashed by the absence of wings.
I amused myself while awaiting my stud. I rolled into a ball and unfolded myself upside down. Orientation has no meaning when you’re weightless but I did it again to put the audience right side up. A stud approached the disc but did not step up. He was followed by others until five of them encircled me just out of my reach.
The studs wore flowing, white, floor-length skirts with slits in the front, stroking and tugging at their impressive erections as if vying for my custom at the market. I learned to pivot without a floor under my feet and watched each in turn. I made a choice and pointed but he shook his head and redoubled his masturbatory efforts. I couldn’t believe that he might give to the air the seed that belonged in me!
He grimaced with an expression of both expectation and surprise—he was about to cum. Then he threw his hands into the sky and stared into my eyes…and nothing more. He had brought himself to the edge of ecstasy and then denied himself, and me. The cocky bastard centered himself and curled his fingers around his cock again.
I curled my fingers toward my cunt and thought twice—no, this wasn’t right.
Each man in their turn danced the same sick dance: threatening, promising, and reneging. I foolishly massaged a breast and twisted a nipple to distract myself which of course had the opposite effect. I pleaded beyond my intangible barrier but a man slapped my outstretched hand which sent me into a slow spin. I had no choice but to watch them not cum over and over again.
I could have closed my eyes but I couldn’t.
Finally, they scattered into the wind and a stud, a real stud wearing a red skirt, sprinted onto the disc. We collided when he leapt, causing me to tumble ass-over-head. I caught him between my legs on the upswing and was rewarded with a hard cock and a welcoming kiss.
Fuck gravity—fucking without it is heavenly. Every thrust and counterthrust took our lovemaking literally in new directions as his skirt billowed and collapsed around us. We clung to each other not only for the impassioned coupling but to keep us physically coupled.
This stud did nothing to tease me and everything to enjoy me. When the time came, he grabbed my hips with his knees before one last shove and poured out his sperm.
We drifted apart and he blushed a little as he covered up his spent cock. He kept me steady when we touched down and said goodbye by way of a soft kiss on the cheek.
The air is the air, almost intangible yet easy to miss. How easily are we smothered with kindness, kisses, or love?
A hard gust carried a stud to me by silky black sails lashed to his wrists and ankles. The second he landed and stripped off his silks, a glass cylinder rose from the floor and encompassed us, towering high overhead.
Suddenly, with a loud clunk and a whoomph, all of the air was evacuated from the chamber. My lungs struggled to draw a breath but before I could panic, I was knocked against the glass by a blast of fresh air. The stud appeared to be recovering quicker than I was.
The stud took my hand as if to dance, then gently kissed, tickled, and teased me all over as he laid me on the soft floor. He straddled me on his knees and covered my face with his hands as his rubbery cock grated against my breastbone. My breath against his palms was loud and harsh in my ears.
He left a trail of unneeded pre-cum down my body until his cock flopped past and slowly, maybe sluggishly, flipped up into my place. I just lay there and took it with my fingers and toes tingling as much as my cunt.
He rested his head on my shoulder and his body on mine. He raised his hips, I judged, and dropped them, I supposed. I was being fucked the way a canoe drifts with the current—a forever fuck.
My heart was beating fast and I was short of breath which in hindsight seems odd but at the time added some urgency to the fucking—that is, if we were fucking. I wasn’t sure. I had a hard time finding my crotch.
I pushed the mountain of muscle off of me. I found my cunt, saw his cock, and remembered that we had to fuck. I didn’t remember why but then I don’t think I had tried. I climbed on and after a few tries managed to aim him back inside.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, I chanted as I bounced. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…
“Sing it with me, stud! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” He didn’t sing but that was okay. I talked to his cock instead. “Sing it with me, cock! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” But suddenly, as clear as the cock in my cunt I knew that if I didn’t make him cum then his ever-swelling cock was going to blow itself up. That would have been tragic for him, of course, but I was feeling giddy about it because either way, I was going to be filled with his cum.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Faster! I told myself. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…
I knew that if I would cum, he would cum. It just made sense. I was getting closer and closer when I heard a hiss and felt a cold breeze on my face. I gasped for air as if I had been holding my breath forever and rolled and rolled through an amazing orgasm. The canoe had reached the rapids and crashed on the rocks below.
The stud’s eyes shot open wide. He forcefully grabbed my forearms and shook me as he too crested.
The cylinder retracted into the floor and I could smell the crowds and their arousal.
~~~
WATER
We are our own water and baptized this planet. In return, the new, ancient waters give us life.
I was wet. I would have danced in the warm mist were I not afraid of forfeiting the sperm I had cached thus far. Still, I swept my feet through the puddles and laughed like a girl. Sitting with a splash, I discovered that I could draw through the watercolors on my skin. The paints stuck to my fingertips but refused to be washed or rinsed away. For a short time, I forgot about my onlookers in their darkness.
The mist turned to showers and I lifted my face to drink. A theatrical flash and crash of thunder introduced my next stud. Behind the serpent in my face was a man large enough to wield it. Without thinking, I relaxed my jaw but before I could taste him, he scooped me up and devoured a tit while cradling me. I moaned and let myself go limp in his arms.
He carefully walked us down the steps that led into a lighted glass pond at the edge of the stage. Great palms possessed each cheek as he slowly, gallantly impaled me. He stuffed me, filled me, or so I thought until he filled me more, and then more. I swear we could have let go of each other and I would have remained securely hooked.
Stepping waist deep, he settled onto his back and we easily floated in the heavily salted bath. I fucked him, tentatively at first until I learned how to use the ripples and waves that we made in the water. Just as I crested, he rolled us over. My face was barely above the water as he took over and quickly gave me another orgasm.
We fucked and rolled and ceded control over and over as if we had been born to breed in the sea. I felt a rumble in his chest and he sprang like Neptune, roaring wave after wave of his semen into me. When he was done, he lifted me high as if he was inspecting his work and then set me next to him. We emerged from the water hand-in-hand and he returned me to where he had found me before exiting into the darkness.
Storms flood quickly. Persistent showers last longer.
I lay panting and sore in the rain when my next stud approached. I lifted myself to my elbows as my mind wrapped itself around the contradictions in front of me. He was old, old, and slight of frame. And yet his eyes smoldered with virility. His limp penis, hanging alongside delicate thighs, was at least as long as the giant’s was before him. He smiled knowingly.
This sire squatted and collared me with a black ribbon and ring. I saw no chain or leash but somehow, I felt it there. He stood and straddled my legs, then swatted my hands away when I reached for him. His mighty member lifted itself on its own and aimed at my chest. He peed on me then, a strong and steady stream which the rains promptly washed away. I hadn’t expected that. I didn’t know if I liked that. I was his, at least for the moment, and I did like that.
Without manipulation, his cock grew and I reclined. He knelt between my legs as he became as large and firm as any I had ever seen. I separated my legs more, and more, and he waited until my hips hurt from the spread. He took himself in hand and mixed his fluids with mine. The rain turned to mist as he made his first smooth thrust.
I couldn’t take my eyes away from his as he probed and gyrated as if he was studying me. With each stroke, he varied the angle, depth, and pressure. He brought me so close so many times before I realized he was toying with me. “Please,” I asked, and then I begged. He obliged and before I came down, he obliged again.
He closed his eyes then and without any other effort, he added spurt after powerful spurt to the mixtures already in my cunt. I prayed to one goddess not to let his sperm kill the others and prayed to another to let them. I refused to return the collar.
~~~
FIRE
Fire lives, coaxed but not controlled. Between warmth and scorched is heat. Between lit and blinded is vision.
Jan told me to trust her when she painted me an unimaginative fire red. Fires were already blazing in the two round stone fireplaces upstage. The occasional hiss of steam bounced from the semi-circular pit of glowing rocks downstage. Giant halogen lights flooded from above.
I carried a torch with me and found two hot studs already out there with their own torches stuck in the ground and with sweat cascading from their lean bodies. I’d soon be as drenched as they were.
Before I could reach them, they embraced in a deep kiss while fondling each other’s slick, slender shafts. I panicked and shouted for them to stop. Those were my cocks and they should take care not to give their seed to the ground! I pawed at them to separate but we were too slippery for me to gain a hold.
They laughed as they avoided me, refusing to yield the other’s tongue or cock. I realized then that they were playing with me and so I put an end to that by slithering up between them. One accepted defeat with his tongue in my mouth while the other fingered my butthole. I raised and lowered myself to drag my nipples up and down his chest and the finger up my ass matched that rhythm.
I took a handful of the stud’s hair because that’s all that I could grip and told him, “You’re first.”
He took a step back, holding my hands. “Girl, you’re on fire!” he exclaimed. I didn’t know what he meant until I saw that our sweat had carved rivers into my body paint, exposing yellow, orange, blue, and green flames consuming my flesh; I was indeed on fire!
The stud lay on his back and lifted his dimpled ass just a little above the floor. His was not a fat cock but that suited me well. Lowering myself, I could hardly tell whether I had missed my mark until he twitched and thrust. He bade me lie on him and I did, writhing and willing my cunt to reform itself around him.
Our partner crawled next to us. He tenderly kissed me, then the stud beneath me, and then me once more, before climbing up onto us. I pressed my palms to the floor to keep our slick bodies stacked, as did the stud on top. Before I could accept what was happening, the two studs’ cocks ganged up on my pussy and manhandled their way into me together.
The sensation was indescribably fulfilling. I imagined them twisting and coiling around each other just as their tongues had done moments before. As they feverishly fucked me, we didn’t care where our bodies went when we toppled. Our only concern was to keep the cocks in me until they gave up their loads.
I was so afraid that if I climaxed, I’d squeeze them out, and I held back as long as I could. I screamed and clenched until their crisscrossed cocks quenched my fire. We disentangled and they licked each other clean while I cupped my sex with both hands.
The lights shut down. The remaining fires were extinguished. I cried.
~~~
Dawn. I lay exhausted on the fire stage as someone sponged away the sweat and paint. They gave me water, which I spit out, and some more, which I drank. Jan was with me as they brought me home. On my back in my bed, they stuffed pillows under my tail.
“I couldn’t believe what I saw, Harli! I’ll bet you’re pregnant a dozen times over!”
“Even I don’t want twelve, Jan.” I was proud. I was proud that she was proud. I slept dreaming deviant dreams.
~~~
AFTER
Weeks after, three new nipples erupted on my chest and I knew my expectant body would soon shuffle my flesh and reforge my breasts. I had worn nothing since the ritual, letting my body brag for me. Fuck modesty. I was a pregnant Mare.
Malorie asked me to visit and I helped the mid-mothers place her newborns at her many teats. She looked so tired yet so content. My Prima closed her eyes as she sucked from a bottle of pureed sea fruit that I held for her.
I’ll be a good mother.
