Fertility Moon
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Fertility Rites free porn video
Fertility Rites
By DemiUrge
I sketched the tree in my notebook, it was a great subject. It had a face
already implied in it; if I could just capture the tree accurately it would look
like a very subtly and well implanted face. A good thing to learn how to draw. I
was just killing time before I went on a nice trip to some Polynesian island or
other, drawing natives and native structures. Just for the experience really,
and to get away from the city. It would be a nice vacation from college.
A major in the Fine Arts and Music wasn't what most people considered tough, but
they were fucking morons. You heap on core curriculum to time two majors that
demand lots of time and you get a hellishly difficult time. Worth it though, I
was studying what I was good at and loved. The practicality of the majors were
in question, but I figured it was more about getting a chance to master ones
arts and hone talents instead of actually flashing the degree around.
It was time for a vacation, a chance to restock the creative stores and just not
have to worry about things. My winter break was going to be spent on an island,
a nice little one, a friend of mine majoring in Anthropology suggested it.
Authentic enough to be worthwhile, exposed to western folk enough to be safe.
Although she helped me pick up a good bit of the language over the semester I
would be more comfortable with people who could at least understand some English
and had some contact with people wanting to study them.
My final projects were all done, all that stood between me and my vacation was a
physics test. I didn't take bullshit classes for core, which I probably should,
but I've always been a fan of doing something the right way. Most people called
it the hard way, they were lazy asses. It was another four hours or so, I hated
evening tests. I preferred them in the middle of the day so I could get up at a
time I liked, get it over with and then have the evening for myself.
Picking up my fiddle I played a bit of a murder ballad, lots of people were
kinda squicked by them but they were good tunes and they were definitely funny
in that dead baby joke sort of way. I was more nervous than I thought; I just
couldn't get into the music. Sighing I decided to just do some pacing around
campus, I picked all my stuff up, dropped it off at my dorm room and started
wandering.
I liked Boulder's campus a lot; it was one of the reasons I attended. Not to
mention the nice tuition break for instate students. Even though I'd just been
living instate for a little bit my parents had residency. They were always on
the move for work and the like, and I was put in a boarding school for a few
years for some stability. It was sort of better than bouncing around all the
time. I finally stopped wandering around at the large sundial in front of the
library. I'd never been able to read it right or it just didn't work for me. I
checked it, modified it appropriately by the chart below it, and checked my
watch. Damn, once again it was way off. Shrugging I headed to the physics
building where the test was going to be held. I had wandered the campus for a
good few hours; it was a good way to just get inspired. Meandering aimlessly,
catching bits of conversation and noticing interesting people. Cleared my mind
and got me ready.
The test sorta breezed by, I was glad I was a pretty good test taker. All of my
struggle was before the exam. Notetaking, reading and studying weren't things I
enjoyed or was good at, but I forced myself. Better to suffer outside of the
test room than in it. Handing in my paper I headed out, pleased to see some of
the physics majors in the class still doing the test. So I was a bit petty,
everyone's get some faults.
My flight left tomorrow, and I was pretty well packed. I just finished up my
packing, mostly my sketch stuff and my fiddle. Even though I planned on trying
to pick up local instruments I didn't like to go most places without my fiddle,
it was the first instrument I learnt to play.
I slept, thankful that my roommate had already left for his winter break. He had
a habit of not just staying up later than me but also being noisy.
My alarm buzzed me awake the next morning; I gave myself plenty of time to get
to the bus that would take me to the airport and then on a very long flight. It
would stop in Australia where I would pick up a special charter water landing
air plain that would put me down right by the island. Since they were relatively
used to students and professors coming to study, and even just visit with
friends, the islanders probably wouldn't mind. My friend had been a bit vague on
exactly how they receive visitors, saying that it was part of the fun.
The bus wasn't that crowded, most people had either already gone or wouldn't be
going for another few days. The airport was of course swarmed with people. I got
all my stuff set and got on the flight, which was pretty empty for a flight. It
was nice to actually have some room. I spent most of the flight brushing up on
my vocabulary. It was hard to get some of the single word sentences, but I was
managing. My pronunciation was good according to the people helping me learn,
and it sounded pretty good compared to the tapes I had.
As soon as the plane landed I hurried off to grab my luggage and meet the pilot
that I had arranged for. He was waiting at the lounge next to the gate we'd
agreed to meet at, smoking a cigar.
He shook my hand and gave a friendly introduction, "So heading out to study some
island natives? Anthropology student?"
"No, Music and Art. Broadening my horizons."
"Aye. They have some fascinating stuff in their culture. Well want to get off?
If you've got your things we can head out now."
Nodding I lugged my bag to the small plane that was capable of water landings
and got into the relatively cramped passenger space. The pilot didn't mind me
being quiet as I looked out the small window at the islands and ocean below. It
wasn't a very long flight at all. Soon we were setting down on the water no more
than ten yards from a beach. There were a few people along it, who didn't seem
particularly phased by a plane landing. A few of them came out to greet us. The
pilot gave a friendly greeting to one of the men, like they were good friends.
The man turned to me, "An artist, well I can show you to the guest hut and once
you get settled in our Eleta can speak with you."
I nodded my thanks. My friend had made a point to teach me what an Eleta was, as
well as some of the other hard to translate words. An Eleta was a musical
history keeper, sort of like a bard but they also had lots of religious
importance. They would open the way to the gods with special songs, as well as
prophesize musically.
"Thank you, your hospitality is much appreciated."
Smiling the man lead me to the hut, it was nicely furnished. They obviously
wanted to impress their visitors, which worked fine for me. Putting down my
stuff, thanking and saying good-bye to the pilot, I collapsed onto the bed and
went to sleep.
I woke up to the Eleta calling the morning. "Gevos, lord of the sky, lord of the
spirit. We awaken to you, thank you for your blessing. We welcome your warmth,
we welcome the sun's light filling the earth's womb."
The meter was interesting, as was the sound of the instrument that he was
playing along with the words. It reminded me a little of old English poetry,
with the ceasura in-between the segments. The instrument was definitely a
percussion one, probably a special drum of some sort.
Rolling out of the rather comfortable bed I dressed and got out there. The Elita
was finishing the morning ritual near my hut. He was a pleasant looking middle-
aged man, obviously healthy and still fit. He spoke in a melodic tone in his own
language, I wondered what kind of accent he'd have if he spoke English.
"Welcome! I'm glad to have someone who'll be interested in the actual music and
songs instead of just their cultural significance."
"I bet you get tired of interviews about that."
The Elita nodded, "Every single bit of it over analyzed. We don't even have
words for some of the concepts they wanted to learn about because they are so
worked into our culture."
I nodded, "I'm curious about the meter that you were using for the morning
song."
"It is the spirit meter, all of our sacred songs are in it. Let me demonstrate
it for you." he played a relatively simply series of beats on the small drum he
had with him.
I listened closely as I watched his hands to make sure I got the time. It seemed
like it was 10/7 time, an odd meter. But it seemed to go with their language
when chanted.
The music lesson continued for a while, the Elita didn't have any formal duties
until the farewell to the sun. He was as interested in learning my music as I
was in learning his. The fiddle fascinated him, they had a few harp like string
instruments but no bow across string ones.
Over the next few weeks I got acquainted with the Talah, the drum used for the
sacred songs, as well as the Iltan, it resembled a panpipe but had a much deeper
and more resonating sound. The Elita, who told me his use name of Horon, picked
up fiddle and western meter rather quickly. I had also brought my flute and
guitar, which he was still trying to pick up. My current project was creating my
own Iltan, the Talah couldn't be created without a special sacrifice and so I
couldn't make one. However an Iltan just required some of the wood from the
island. Horon was going to attempt a violin creation using the Iltan wood and
using strings of the same material of a Talah top. As the Elita he could make
the sacrifice, and he was hoping to have a new instrument to offer songs to the
island gods.
While I stayed it became clear to me that the island was experiencing some
trouble with its food supply. They were dipping into their stores, and never
mentioned it really. I had known they were very hospitality oriented but this
was a little over board. During my fourth week, which was my second to last
before I had to get back for the next semester, I decided to ask Horon about it.
His face darkened slightly, "If you've noticed the songs have become more
pleading. Gevos is withdrawing his blessing, we have tried many of our fertility
rites yet he still seems angry."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
Something moved across Elita's eyes, as if he was considering something very
dangerous, and then he shook his head, "No. Do not concern yourself, we will
survive, Gevos is merely testing us as he does occasionally. When I was a boy I
worried about such things, but now I have learnt that our gods are not cruel.
Really, do not make mention of it again, it would not do for a guest to be thus
concerned."
He gave a quick look around, and then continued helping me make my Iltan as he
struggled through my poor translation on the makings of violins.
Another fertility rite was being held that evening. They were ritual marriages
of sorts, or when there wasn't a young couple to be wedded then a young married
couple would be used. They had long since run out of individuals they could wed
together without causing major upheaval, and so the chief was doing a remarriage
to his wife, an attempt to show the desperation of the people and their
adherence to the proper rituals.
I'd been allowed to see a few of them after my first two weeks, when Horon
started vouching for me as a Derangra, accepted friend. I wasn't part of the
tribe by any means, but I was one they would trust with greater secrets and who
could be counted on for aid.
The ritual was much like the others. The woman sat on a special raised alter,
wearing very little except for ritual beads and leaves. She was to play the part
of Kala, earth goddess who was very fertile and awaiting only Gevos's touch.
Gevos was played by the man, who wore an elaborate mask and feathers. Horon
started playing the music, joined by chants from the men and women in a strange
sort of round chorus.
Soon the woman would be overtaken by the spirit and dance a special fertility
dance, half formalization, half inspiration and completely erotic. The man would
then be carried away by lust and bring her back to their hut. It was to goad the
gods into the same sort of behavior, though that wasn't entirely accurate it was
the best way I could understand it. They were very big into correspondences and
the link between the actions of humans and their gods.
After the ritual the shaman, an old man who was adorned with all sorts of
piercing, bells, feathers, shells and employed a likewise decorated walking
stick, approached me. "Derangra Tomas I heard that you seek to aid us in this
difficult and infertile time."
"Yes honored one who speaks with that above."
"There is a ritual, performed in our other sacred site." he was talking about
where the noon sun cast no shadow. A small staircase like structure was there,
it was where spirits could climb down to earth and humans climb up to the
heavens, "I have heard of the fertility of your soul. This ritual brings it to
your body and thus draws the fertility of the gods back into the earth. Will you
act as our Pempen, our spirit bridge?"
My friend in the Anthropology department would have a fit. Not only would I get
to see a ritual that wasn't on their records, but perform in it. Of course that
would violate some of the rules of anthropological study, but that really didn't
matter as much. "I would be honored."
Smiling the shaman went to speak to Horon, who gave a slight frown, and
eventually seemed to give in.
The ritual occurred under the noonday soon, and so about two hours before hand
preparation began. All the married males, and even unmarried ones, donned their
sacred Gevos costumes. The shaman told me that we needed to really attract his
attention for the ritual to succeed. Likewise all the married females were
wearing their Kala costumes. It took the shaman and his apprentice an hour to
prepare me. I was left to soak for half an hour in sacred oil, and then
completely cleansed of it. Then I was wrapped in the sacred bird skins with the
feathers meticulously reattached as well as some shells. It looked sort of like
a cocoon, which the shaman said was the point. Some of the stronger men in the
village lifted me unto the top of the stairs, as I had to descend them without
ascending them. It was amazing how sturdy the simple wood and stone structure
was. It was a good ten feet in the air, and I was glad it wasn't windy because I
couldn't do much but stand precariously on the top step.
When I asked the shaman my part he said just descend when the music shifted. The
rest would be inspiration, which would translate my creativity to fertility for
the land.
The music began; it was a somber and dirgelike song. The chants indicated they
were morning the coming death of their land, and they were seeking help. They
pleaded with Gevos and Kala, who refused to even look at each other. From what I
could see from my cocoon the men and women were refusing to look at each other.
Then the music shifted, they chanted faster, I couldn't make out the concepts as
clearly anymore. Something about the coming of bodily incarnation, of true
proxies. I started a slow descent, forced to take very small, mincing steps. As
I descended the building frenzy of the music inspired me to sway a little, to
start trying to dance. The cocoon got in the way, even made it painful. I almost
lurched down the remaining half. But finally I managed to get down the stairs,
cocoon ill fitting from the tugging. At the bottom I needed to get it off, but
could not. I felt the fertility of body they talked about, a sort of hot and
sweaty feeling all over. I cried, in their language no less, for release. The
damned cocoon was snuggled all over me.
One of the men, unmarried by the way that the Gevos costume was arranged, leapt
forward. His costume was oddly ill-fitting, as if it had been made for a
smaller, less masculine individual. All I carried about was that someone was
letting me out of this claustrophobic thing.
He tugged the cocoon off and I felt dizzy from the sudden rush off cooling air
and something else. When the cocoon ripped free and left me naked large, full
breasts bounced in new freedom. Wind played along very smooth coppery skin.
Looking at the revealing costume of the man before me I licked full very
kissable lips. I was a fertile and beautiful island girl now, about to unmaidned
by the very attractive man in front of me. I welcomed it.
Gevos and I are considered spiritual figures of sorts; we get to bear the names
of the gods. After the first night I knew I had become pregnant, but we kept
going at it. Judging by the sudden up swing in hunting success and grains our
godly namesakes were doing the same. The pilot returned and he was told that I
had been lost at sea on a fishing trip. It was sad that I had to lie to my
former people like that, but they weren't as important my new ones.
Or as important as the child I bore. It was wonderful to give birth, despite the
pain. It was what I had been trying for with all my art and music, the ultimate
act of creation. The only time I expressed myself now was to sing prophecy, my
voice was improved a lot by the change. It didn't bother me that I was only
interested in creating by procreation or prophecy anymore; I was Kala, the
goddess proxy.
I inspired indirect creation, and created directly. It was more than enough.
Blaze
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