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.
