Bealtaine

*Hey everyone, it’s Oghma once again! It’s been a hot minute, but life’s been hectic and I’ve been suffering a lot of burnout. But nonetheless, life must go on and I give you this little brief window into Breeder religious festivals. Thanks as always for stopping by, and I hope to see you all again very soon.*

**Disclaimer: Unrealistic sizes and impossible anatomy ahead. All characters depicted within are of 18 years of age or older.**

“How do I look?” Clara asked hopefully, spinning around in place to show everything off. One would almost expect she was displaying a brand-new dress. Instead, she was sporting naught but her birthday suit and a collection of jewelry. She was a young woman of 18 years, a high school senior not too far away from graduation. One would be hard pressed to find a more overtly Celtic looking girl these days, for her hair was long, wavy, thick hair was a striking reddish brown, streaked occasionally with brighter patches here and there, and her eyes a lovely green shade. As was quite obvious by her appearance, Clara was a Breeder. Though she had only recently entered into adulthood, her body was a collection of all the best sensuous curves. Her breasts were, as one would expect, large and round. Each one bigger than her head by a significant margin (at the moment she was between cup sizes, having just graduated from I) with perfectly proportioned light brown nipples standing erect in the cool air-conditioned atmosphere. Her hips were wide and spacious, well past her shoulder span, an almost textbook demonstration of “breeding hips”. A bit lower, her thicc sturdy thighs supported a massive juicy peach, the sort entire rap albums would be devoted to.

“Darling, you look absolutely ravishing.” Reassured her mother, Rose. Clara was in many ways the spitting image of her mother, for they both sported their signature auburn hair and jade colored eyes. The biggest difference between the two of them was, naturally, the magnitude of their curves. Not to say that Clara wasn’t stacked, indeed she had a body most porn stars payed a fortune in surgery to emulate, but Rose was on a whole other level. Tempered by 18 years of breeding, she looked almost like a fertility statue come to life. Her deep ruby lips were full and plump, practically stuck in a permanent pout or kiss. Massive pumpkin sized tear-drop shaped breasts adorned her chest, displaying that perfect paradox of maternal softness and the firmness that allowed them to keep their shape, capped with light tan colored nipples and areolae. At the moment she wasn’t lactating, for her youngest had been weaned quite some time ago. Beneath her tremendous tits, her waist curved inward, before rapidly flaring out as her broodmother level hips were reached. Even when viewed from the front, her monstrous ass was plainly visible and evident, a money-maker beaten by few in the entire world. There was a reason she was a multi-time twerking champion after all (complete with multiple trophies).

“Thanks Mom.” Clara responded, giving her a tender kiss on the cheek. “Can’t help but feel a little nervous tonight. ”

“Oh I understand completely.” Rose said, gently stroking her daughter’s hair. “I remember my first Bealtaine…” she sighed in remembrance. “I was nothing short of a nervous wreck.”

“How’d you cope with it mom?” Clara queried.

“Well, once I got into it, I realized it wasn’t all that different from having sex normally. You lose yourself in the sheer joy of Breeding, it’s almost like…” she paused, trying to put this into words. “It’s like you become one with the Goddess herself.”

“Whoa…” Clara beamed in awe.

“You had the implant removed right?” Rose asked in a firm, serious tone. Clara was her firstborn daughter, and as such she had to make sure she made it to adulthood before her first breeding. This meant birth control until her 18th birthday, as unpleasant as it was for her. Luckily for her, the IBE’s specialized implants had hit the market properly right around the time her daughter hit puberty. It had served her pretty well for the past few years, but naturally all forms of birth control were forbidden on Bealtaine.

“Of course Mom!” she responded with an eager nod, gesturing towards her arm. A slight scar was barely visible, indicating the recent removal of said object. “I’m all set!”

“Mmmmm… not quite…” said Rose with an exaggerated expression of contemplation. It was clear there was something missing, and she new exactly what it was. But this was a day for theatrics and ritual, so Clara was fine with indulging her. Reaching onto the nearby table, Rose produced a pair of flowery wreaths. They were exquisitely crafted, nearly perfect in their shape and the distribution of the flowers, almost as if they had been made by some kind of professional florist. Primroses, marigolds and gorse blossoms were arranged carefully, creating a perfect collage of yellow shades. Without a word, she placed one on Clara’s head, gently maneuvering it until it was firmly nestled in her hair and supported by her ears. “There.” She said happily as she placed the other on her own head. “Now I think you’re ready. Shall we?”

“Yes please!” Said Clara with a laugh. And with that they gathered up a pair of long, grey colored trench coats (they still had quite a drive to make, even Breeders had to obey the law after all) and exited into the night.

*

“Once more, a year has passed.” The high priestess spoke. As prominent as “Breeder Paganism” (At some point they really needed to come up with a better name) had become in just a few short decades, there was still some pretty strict requirements to become clergy within it; In-depth knowledge of the various rituals and traditions, proficiency in the ancient languages, and of course a voracious sexual appetite. This particular priestess, one Eileen Flannery certainly wore that title on her proverbial sleeve: Her long dark hair flowed down her back, a veritable forest of thick ebony locks. She was about as… overdressed as one could be right now. Nudity was the standard amongst the attendees, and it seemed there were no deviants from said standard. About the only clothing to speak of were the crowns of flowers, worn by men and women alike, and yet the priestess was adorned in the most ornate one of all. If Queen Victoria had used flora for her crowns, it probably would have looked something like this. Her voice was stern and proud, at a pitch slightly beneath alto. No microphone or speaker amplified her speech, yet it echoed through the cool night air all the same. She stood before a tall, powerful bonfire, towering high and illuminating everything around them in its dim light. “Once more, we gather here before the Goddess for Bealtaine, the day of fertility and renewal.”

Clara found herself biting her tongue to keep herself from giggling aloud. An evangelical preacher would have had a heart attack if he ever witnessed this ritual. After all, when one heard the words “pagan ritual”, images of a far more sinister practice were what usually came to mind. Dark invocations, blood sacrifice and conjuring up demons. But that was not what the modern Bealtaine was about. No, this was the day of renewing life, not death. Clara wasn’t old enough to remember a time before this had become a major holiday, indeed she could not imagine a time when it wasn’t as big as it was. All around her were Breeders of various ages and ethnicities, all as naked as the day they entered this world. Exceptionally curvaceous women that tested the extent of her bisexuality, and men that put horses to shame surrounded her all over, all displaying various signs of readiness. Clara’s teeth shifted from her tongue to her lip in an obvious gesture of arousal, one accented by her visibly soaked pussy. She was certain people had noticed, yet she wasn’t nearly as nervous as she thought she would have been.

“Tonight, we celebrate the coming of the sun’s zenith, the birth of a new summer, and the resurgence of life.” Continued the high priestess. Cheers and applause rang through the crowd, forcing a brief smile upon her lips. “May our seeds take root, and our wombs be bountiful.” She said in a tone of maternal warmth.

“May our seeds take root and our wombs be bountiful.” Repeated everyone. Clara was a little late on the repetition, first time and all that. But luckily it seemed she wasn’t the only one, as the chorus of voices carried with her, and ceased slightly after she did. The high priestess then spread her arms wide, turned her head up to the sky and began the song.

“Samhradh buí na nóiníní gléigeal. Thugamar féin an samhradh linn. Ó bhaile go baile is chun ár mbaile ‘na dhiaidh sin, Thugamar féin an samhradh linn.” It was the traditional Gaelic folk song, Babóg na Bealtaine or “Doll of May”, which had now become a staple of the holiday. No instruments supported her crooning, allowing the full majesty of her singing voice to be as laid bare as everyone’s bodies. Unlike her speaking voice, her singing pitch was a melodic opera soprano. Yet, it was no less powerful and moving, it seemed to resonate with everyone right down to their soul. Some of the attendees were moving their lips silently as if they were trying to sing along, but did not wish to try and ruin it by blending their voices with hers. It wasn’t a particularly long song, just about 4 and a half minutes. But as it ended, a relaxed silence fell upon the crowd. Something in the air just seemed to infuse everybody with a sense of relief, of community and of unity. Was this the essence of the Goddess? Some kind of group induced euphoric trance? Well, whatever it was, Clara found her eyes closing gently and her mouth curling into a smile as she basked in the good vibrations. A proverbial calm before the storm.

“Now…” continued the priestess, breaking everyone out of their trance. “By the grace of the Goddess Danu… let the festivities begin!” With that, the ceremonial silence of the crowd was shattered, and the loud murmur of dozens (if not hundreds) of voices speaking at once began to fill the air.

“What happens now?” queried Clara as she turned to her mom.

“Pretty much whatever you want to honey. “she replied with a sly grin.

“Oh.” Clara glanced around and noticed people pairing off already. Couples and those in poly relationships were the first to get started. Quickly following them were people who had hooked up before. All of the sudden, a thought occurred to Clara; How was she going to stand out? True she’d had no problem seducing the boys at school. But there were very few Breeders in attendance there, and even then, she was the only female one. It seemed she had gone from being a big fish in a small pond, to just one more in the sea. Clara couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated.

“Not sure what to do?” asked Rose warmly. Clara turned her gaze back towards her mother and cracked a sheepish smile.

“Is it that obvious?” she asked with a nervous chuckle. “Not really sure what to say y’know? ‘Hey there… wanna breed me like a bitch?” It was a clear attempt at deflecting the worry with humor.

“Well, that might work.” Replied rose with a low chuckle of her own. “But maybe something a little more… visual will bring the studs over to you.”

“Like what?” Clara asked as Rose brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. A slight heat flowed through her body before eventually settling in her now pink cheeks. She had a slight inclination of what was about to happen, but she still had that lingering confusion that needed conformation.

“Oh… perhaps a little mother/daughter show?” Rose responded with a sly grin. With that, she drew Clara’s head towards hers and kissed her tenderly on the lips. It started as fairly tame smooching, before devolving rapidly into full on snogging. This wasn’t the first time Clara and Rose had kissed this way, indeed they’d gone much further many times over ever since she’d turned 18. But of course, it was the first time they had been so open about it. Even if Breeders lacked the taboo about incest, it was still frowned upon by the normals. As such, a bit of embarrassment still remained in her, but it was quickly washed away as she got deeper into it. Before too long they were grinding, groping and coiling around each other in a sensual display of incestuous lust.

“My my my! Putting on a show this year are we?” Came a voice clearly directed at the two women. Immediately they both snapped out of their trance and drew their attention to said voice. Before them stood a rather tall man of obvious Middle Eastern decent. His skin was a deep tan, a reflection of his sun-tempered lineage. Atop his head was a short coif of dark curly hair, a matching shade to the well-trimmed beard adorning his face. Yet there were 3 features in particular that stood out above all others. The first was his eyes, they were a strange shade somewhere in-between blue and green, the sort that would change depending on the light. Next was his muscles, they were large and well-cut, highlighted by small amounts of chest and body hair strategically placed everywhere but the pubic region. Which incidentally, was where the last of his especially eye-catching features lay. Or rather, stood proudly. An olive pillar over a foot and a half long jutted from his groin, practically pulsing with blood. Like most Breeder men, he was uncircumcised and his erection had peeled the foreskin back pretty far, creating a tremendous color contrast between the tanned outer skin and the purplish flesh beneath it. Beneath the behemoth in a smooth, hairless sac hung a pair of testicles one might normally expect to see on a breeding bull (then again, that was a fairly apt description of Reza). Clara nearly did a double-take, as she was utterly blown away by how ruggedly virile this man came off as.

“Reza!” exclaimed Rose as she recognized the man. With that, she broke off from her daughter, drew Reza in for a deep embrace and gave him a long, deep kiss. The name was enough to snap Clara out of her trance, as it was a name she knew all too well. This was the famous Reza, one of her mother’s favorite squeezes, and the father of 3 of her siblings. While it was a guarantee that her praises were laced with exaggerations, Clara couldn’t help but hope for a grain of truth in them. Her cheeks turned scarlet and her lips parted long enough for her to sink her teeth into the lower one. Any envy she was feeling towards her mother right now was washed away in a tide of pure reproductive arousal.

“Glad to see me?” he chuckled as they broke apart, cracking a wide smile of pearly whites. Clara felt her knees growing weak, nearly toppling her over. If this were an anime series, blood would be erupting from her nose like a busted fire hydrant.

“And then some!” Rose responded with a giggle one would expect from a schoolgirl. Clara likely would have expressed surprise at that, but her mother’s demeanor was one of the last things on her mind right now. “Oh! Where are my manners?” continued Rose, turning to gesture towards Clara. “This is my eldest Clara. ”

“Oh, nice to meet ya!” said Reza enthusiastically. “How’re you enjoying your first Bealtaine?”

“Uh I’m… uh-” Clara found herself tongue tied something fierce. “I’m enjoying it…” she managed to say, unsure if that was the right way to respond.

“But not as much as you could be, eh?” Reza’s words turned Clara a deep scarlet. Still, she managed to force a soft nod in response.

“Y-yes…” her eyes were wide open, almost like a puppy begging for a treat. Reza flashed a glance towards Rose, as if he was asking her permission. A slight nod gave him the affirmation that he needed, and without anymore hesitation he scooped Clara up into his arms and lifted her off the ground. She yelped in surprise, but did not resist and quickly wrapped her legs around his cut, muscular torso in a gesture of eagerness and submission. It was only after she’d done this that Clara realized Reza had let go and she was now resting the bulk of her weight on his cock. She had a miniature orgasm just from that thought alone, spurting pussy juices like a busted fountain all over the expansive shaft.

“Look at that…” his voice had dropped low and primal, drawing out a loud swoon from Clara as he spoke. “You’re all ready for it aren’t you?” Again she nodded, finding herself unable to utter a single word. “I don’t think we’re going to need any warmup…” he continued, his hands returning to her hips. With a grunt, he hoisted her up even higher, until the tip of his cock was aimed at her now soaking wet opening. “Just say the words I wanna hear, and it’s all yours.” Clara found all the moisture in her mouth evaporate in a flash, forcing a loud gulp from her. It took just about all the brainpower she could muster to open her mouth and speak.

“P-please?”

“Please what?”

“Please…mount me.” Clara’s words were a deep, husky whisper. Somehow she was still able to be heard over the din of sexual frenzy. “Mount me like a broodwhore, pound me into the ground and breed me like a bitch!” A single tear flowed down Rose’s face and she let loose a small sniffle of pride. Her little girl was all grown up!

“You GOT IT!” said Reza with a loud growl. With that, he pulled her down, skewering the young slut on his massive pole. Fluids flew wild, splattering not only their combined loins but also the nearby spectators. Clara’s mouth flew open and she let loose a primal scream of euphoria. Her legs quivered, sending tremors rippling through her soft booty flesh. Reza had not taken it easy on her (not that she would have wanted him to…) and had nearly sunk balls deep into her on the very first stroke. It seemed that the only thing that had prevented him from going all the way was the barrier of her womb. Despite her arousal, Clara wasn’t quite at the stage of dilation. It didn’t seem to bother or deter him all that much though, as the moment he hit the boundary he immediately started pistoning his hips back and forth in a frenzied pace while pulling her up and down his length. It amazed Clara just how easily he was manhandling her, almost as if she weighed nothing at all. She felt like a sex toy for this bull to satisfy himself upon. That thought alone was enough to give her an orgasm, just one of many more to come this holy night.

“You just gonna sit on the sidelines and watch?” came the voice from behind Rose, turning her head, she saw a familiar face she’d never thought she would again.

“Owen!” she exclaimed, drawing the Burly man in for a big hug. Which quickly turned into a frantic makeout session. But alas, almost as quickly as it began it ended and they broke off. “It’s been ages! I thought you’d quit!”

“Let’s just say I’ve had a change in lifestyle.” He said with a wide grin, reaching around to cup at her expansive booty.

“Mmmmm… glad to hear it.” She purred, grinding against the stud. “Think you’ve still got what it takes?”

“Oh yes… I’m kept sharp every day now.” Owen replied with a slightly wistful sigh as he looked over at a nearby gathering. Two young pregnant women, one Caucasian and the other Native American, were servicing about 3 or 4 guys apiece. If Rose was paying attention she probably would have picked up on the implications. That was a big “if” of course.

“Well, talk is cheap…” she continued, breaking off from his embrace to get down on all fours and present herself for him. “Actions speak louder than words.”

“So they say.” Owen replied with a chuckle as he gripped her hips. He wasted no time in shoving his tremendous cock into her dripping wet quim. Rose cried aloud with delight as she felt herself getting filled, in a loud an melodic voice that rang through the cool night air. She had more than enough experience to keep herself lucid during this climax, which it seems would be quite handy as she had garnered the attention of another extremely well-endowed stud. Rose then raised her right arm up a tad, and seductively made a “come hither” motion with her index finger. The night was, after all, still very young.