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Romy and I found ourselves physically and emotionally exhausted with all the sex action in the town square, and so we gratefully accepted the mayor’s invitation to rest in a private room in the town hall, grateful also for his official invitation after the rest period to take supper with him and his staff. He told us someone would let us know supper was being served with a discreet knock on our door.
When the knock came on our door, we descended the stairs to the grand dining hall. The mayor, other municipal officials, and the police force were all present at the table, and the conversation was lively.
They chatted cheerfully with us, asking who we were and where we were from and what we did for a living and how we met each other. We asked them questions about how the village of Johnson was founded, how it managed to maintain its isolation from the rest of the state, and how it developed such a unique society and set of sexual practices so remarkably different from those of the outside world. In our exchange of views, I came to see sex differently and accept that shared sexual activity could be therapeutic as well as enjoyable.
The conversation continued until dessert was over, and we were lingering over coffee. Then the mayor got up and stood behind Romy’s chair, and as he spoke to us, he massaged her neck and then moved his roving hands down to her breasts.
“Now I mentioned to you earlier that we have the finale to the Summer Fuck Festival after supper. We’ll take a short break back in our rooms now to freshen up and meet you in fifteen minutes out front on the town hall steps. Then we’ll walk across the town square to the community center, that low cinder-block building with the flag pole in front. I’m the master of ceremonies at the festival, so they won’t start without me, but we don’t want to be late. They will be waiting to see you both naked again. After all,” he said nudging me conspiratorially, “you brought us a new vagina on the day of the festival, and we want her to be our festival queen.”
Squeezing Romy’s full breasts with both hands, he told her, “I’m sure you and your partner will enjoy the festival finale as our chosen queen. I know we will all enjoy you.” He gave a devilish chuckle then that told me that the festival queen was more likely to be a festival victim in some way, a notion that proved to be altogether true.
The short break after supper passed in nervous silence. Back in our room, Romy and I stared at each other or out the window, lost in thought. Based on this afternoon’s overwhelming encounters with the sexual practices we had seen and experienced in the Hidden Valley, we anticipated either the best or the worst sexual encounters of our lives, and possibly both at once.
Soon another knock came at our door, and the mayor flanked by police marched us down the town hall steps and across the green to the community centre doors. They wanted us both to attend the festival and were taking no chances that we would get cold feet and try to leave the village. As we walked, Romy nudged me and nodded to the flag flying high in the summer breeze on the flag pole in front of the community center. It featured an anonymous female with wide spread thighs entertaining a monster cock and balls deep in her prominent cunt.
The double doors of the community center were brightly lit and surmounted with a banner announcing the Summer Fuck Festival. It occurred to me that there could also be Fall, Winter, and Spring Fuck Festivals here too. Needless to say, the lettering on the banner was flanked with graphic images of giant erect penises penetrating moist cunts.
We stepped into the lobby of the community center and found concession booths for food, drink, and souvenirs of Johnson. As you might imagine, the mugs and T-shirts on sale all featured erect penises invading willing vaginas.
On the walls were signs pointing to washrooms and change rooms for men and for women, as well as signs pointing to the doors leading out into the main hall. Windows in the wall beside these doors revealed a large meeting hall, its roof supported with sturdy wooden beams and brightly lit.
These we opened and went into the hall for a preliminary look. I could see people already busy with final preparations for the evening’s activities. Some were seated on bleachers attached to the wall, taking a break from their labors. Others were setting up a podium with microphones at the far end of the hall on a wooden stage. Pole-mounted cameras on dollies were being set up at all four corners of the hall. A table near the podium held more hand-held video cameras being charged up to record the night’s debauchery. I wondered what they did with the resulting video.
My attention was distracted by the entrance from a set of double doors in the rear of the building of a crew of burly men in overalls dragging large pieces of equipment into the center of the hall: beds, pommel horses, padded benches, low wooden tables, boxes of electric bahis firmaları cables and sex toys, leather cuffs for restraining women, and whips and canes of all designs and sizes.
In the center of the hall, they set up a large, circular platform, motorized so it could rotate slowly. Romy looked at me and trembled. She knew the mayor had promised to display and fuck her tonight and do it publicly. It seemed to be her fate as this year’s Summer Fuck Festival queen.
Another crew in overalls brought in a large, free-standing St. Andrew’s cross and placed it beside the round, revolving stage in the middle of the arena. Others set up tall ladders that reached the ceiling where a set of mounting brackets were bolted. To these they attached electric pulleys threaded with laid rope and activated by remote control.
The citizens of Johnson did their preparations for the Fuck Festival swiftly and confidently, suggesting long practice. The rear double doors were then closed, and a crew member informed the mayor that all was ready. He mounted the podium and spoke into the microphone. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. You may now go to the change rooms and get naked.”
People in the hall, including the crew, cheered at this and streamed through the door to the lobby. Romy and I followed them, and when we got our turn to exit the hall, we found they had formed two lines in the lobby, men and women, moving slowly into the change rooms. I nodded ‘see you soon’ to Romy as she disappeared with the women into their change room, and I followed the other men.
In the change room, I found a locker for my clothing in a bank of lockers beside the other men. We all stripped off our clothing. Once nude, the men openly inspected each others’ packages, including mine, commenting to each other admiringly on the size of each others’ balls and especially the size and length of cocks now on display. They inspected mine with great interest, being the new boy in town.
“Don’t think he’ll win the size contest,” one opined, “but he’s pretty good. Introduce him to your missus, Paul. He should give her a good ride.” They all guffawed at this.
“What’s the size contest?” I asked innocently.
“Oh,” he answered almost politely, “we all line up and the women suck our pricks until they’re hard. Then Emily Peters comes along with her measuring tape and measures length and girth. She has a special device for a separate size and volume measurement for your cock head. That’s all entered into a mathematical formula in a computer, and the biggest penis wins.”
“Land of the Giant Penis,” I murmured, remembering the sign back on the highway.
I was about to ask what the winner received as a prize when he went on. “Of course, nobody is bigger than the Four Horsemen.” They all nodded silently at that name.
“Who … who are the Four Horsemen?” I asked, almost afraid to do so.
“Oh you’ll find out,” he said quickly and stopped. He looked unsure whether to go on.
“Ah, tell him, Alan,” said one. “He’ll find out soon enough, and he’ll have to deal with it.”
Alan looked at me with a combination of pity and challenge. “You’ve seen lots of big cocks today, right?” I nodded.
“Well, the Horsemen are freaks. They have the biggest cocks ever seen on a human. They live on a horse ranch out on Whatsnatch Creek, and they’re so big, they can even fuck their own horses. If they fuck your woman, her cunt will be so stretched and sore she won’t be able to fuck properly for a week.”
“So they’re the reason this is called the Land of the Giant Penis?” I asked.
Alan shook his head. “No, that name came from a long time ago. It’s just that the Horsemen, they’re our heroes. They love fucking, and they have these giant cocks that few women can handle. It’s like watching the best football player you ever saw scoring touchdowns, and you wish you could be him, but you know you never will be, but he represents your town, your people. That’s the Four Horsemen.”
He stopped for a moment before continuing. “But they only come to town occasionally, usually for festivals like this. We never know when they will show up. When they do, they demand a woman to fuck, a kind of sacrifice. On Festival Days, it’s always the festival queen.”
“And it’s not just one of their guys that fucks her either,” a guy called Phil added. “All four of them take turns fucking her and blasting their cum in her cunt.” I noticed he was stroking his erect penis at the thought.
“Our women are all terrified of them,” Alan continued, “and they try to be on their best submissive behavior before Fuck Festival Day so they won’t be chosen queen in case the Horsemen turn up. They don’t always appear, but we haven’t seen them for a while, so there’s a good chance of seeing them tonight.”
It suddenly hit me. “And my Romy is the chosen one tonight, the festival queen.” The blood drained from my face as I realized what was going to happen to her, and I would have to watch. kaçak iddaa Would I like it?
A pregnant silence followed, and then Alan spoke sadly. “Yes, your woman is the sacrifice tonight. I’m sorry. You are new to the valley, and she has agreed to share her vagina with us. It just happened to be the day of the Summer Fuck Festival. You can decide to leave Johnson after the festival, but tonight you are more or less our prisoners, and the mayor has decided she is the queen and would have to fuck the Four Horsemen if they show up.”
I asked whether Romy knew about this. Paul spoke up. “No, we told our women to say nothing to her. The less she knows, the better. If she knew, she might lose it and be no good at all when the sex begins.”
A bell rang then in the lobby. “It’s time,” he said simply. “We have to go into the hall.”
Out in the lobby again, this time stark naked, the line of men joined the line of naked women emerging from their change room, and the two lines eyed each other’s naked bodies with obvious lust and anticipation of the sexual activities to come. As we passed through the doors into the hall, couples grabbed cocks, tits, and cunts as they paired off and found seats in the bleachers, kissing and fondling each others’ sexual parts.
The mayor appeared with his deputies, all naked except for boots and belts, and sporting erect penises. The deputies each took one of my arms and marched me toward the podium. Other deputies corralled Romy and brought her along to sit beside me on the stage next to the mayor, who got up to the microphone and announced grandiosely, “Let the Fuck Festival Finale begin” to loud cheers.
“First off is the Penis Measuring Contest. Can we have all the men who are volunteering up on the stage in front of me now, and the same number of lady volunteers to suck them up so no one lady gets too tired. Unless you really want to suck as many cocks as you can in one night.” A ripple of laughter followed this as people got up from the bleachers and came forward.
The men formed a line at the front of the stage facing the hall, and the women knelt in front of them. Each took a penis in her mouth and began rocking her head back and forth with her lips firmly clamped around the penis shaft, her tongue licking around the corona head. The idea was to get each man as hard as possible and, of course, to stop before making him ejaculate, which would have reduced the cock at least temporarily to its normal, flaccid state and washed the man out of the contest.
The mayor and his deputies did not take part because they had to appear impartial, being the final judges of who sported the biggest prick. The mayor noticed me sitting on a chair beside him and grabbed my arm. “You too,” he enthused and received nods of approval from some of the women in the audience who wanted me to display my cock and balls, the stranger in their midst. Sex loves novelty.
The mayor also whispered to Romy, urging her to join the fun, so she got up from her chair and knelt in front of me to take my penis in her mouth and suck me.
The older men in the audience who chose not to participate in the contest—as young men, they had had their own time in the spotlight with upright penises, now no longer as upright—came up close to the stage now because they wanted to see Romy’s creamy buttocks rocking back and forth, her pussy mound clearly visible between her butt cheeks.
When the cocks were all suitably erect, the mayor rose to the microphone again. “Alright, ladies, that’s enough, thank you. We don’t want the boys shooting off prematurely, do we?” He chuckled at his own joke. “Can we have Emily Peters now to do the measuring?”
A robust naked woman in her early fifties mounted the stage holding a measuring tape and tablet computer in her hands. In addition, she carried a little cup with what looked like a blue gel in it. She had short, thick, curly blonde hair and a cute face. Her medium tits and flat tummy spoke of an athletic lifestyle, and the trimmed bush of blonde pubic hair on her mound spoke of many hours of great sex greatly enjoyed.
She immediately got to work, moving quickly along the line of fourteen men, measuring with sure hands the length of each penis and its girth. Then she stuck each cock head up to the corona in the blue gel and held it there, reading from scales on its side the width and volume of each glans penis. When she measured mine, I found the blue gel quite a pleasant, a warm fragrant touch on my penis. Each set of measurements she tapped into the tablet and went on to the next man.
When Emily Peters was finished measuring, she sat on a chair beside the mayor and totaled the columns in her spreadsheet. The mayor got up to the microphone again and dismissed the fourteen contestants, thanking them for the shameless display of their sex organs. Everyone laughed at this since everyone was here at the Fuck Festival to display—and use—their sex organs publicly. That was the fun of it.
Emily kaçak bahis got up and planted a wet kiss on the mayor’s lips before whispering something into his ear. As she did so, her hands were busy stroking his naked cock for good measure.
“It appears Emily has chosen a winner, folks,” he announced with a little sigh as Emily continued to rub his penis. “Looking at her measurements-the penises, not Emily’s-the judges agree. Emily, please tell us the winners.”
“The fifth runner up is,” she announced, “the stranger.” Light applause. I sat startled in my seat, but Emily waved me to my feet with her free hand. She really did like the mayor’s cock. She kept waving and indicated that I was supposed to step forward and show my package to the crowd again, so I did, making sure my cock wagged in appreciation of the award. After all, it isn’t every day that your penis is awarded fifth place in the Land of The Giant Penis.
And so on from the fourth to the third to the second runner up, each man parading his penis in front of the crowd, each one a little bigger than the last. Finally, Emily leaned into the microphone dramatically and whispered, “And now, the winner of the Penis Measuring Contest … Joel Peabody.”
Wild applause followed, and a young man with curly red hair and a huge pecker stood up and wagged his cock at the crowd. His blue eyes sparkled as he received his trophy, a bronze statue naturally shaped like an erect penis and testicles. But that was not the whole prize.
Emily spoke again into the microphone. “As you know, the winner of the Penis Measuring Contest also wins the right to deflower this year’s Summer Fuck Festival virgin, who this year is … Polly Menard. So go get her, Joel, and let us see the winning cock in action.”
Two deputies disappeared into the crowd and dragged a struggling young woman forward. She was fully clothed, and she was not happy to be there. They hauled her onto the stage where she stood trembling with fear. Emily told the crowd, “Let’s see what Joel is going to get” to a roar of approval and cries of “Take it off. Take it off.”
As the deputies unbuttoned her shirt and unzipped her jeans, I asked the mayor why they were going to deflower her publicly like this.
He replied, “It’s part of a very old belief in this valley, probably borrowed from the aboriginal people who lived here, that the spirits of nature around us can only be appeased by the sacrifice of a virgin, so we deflower a young girl in a public ceremony at each season’s Fuck Festival. The natives probably killed their virgins, but we just deflower her.”
He paused to take in the spectacle of the now naked body of Polly Menard. Her broad cheeks and brown eyes were red with weeping, and her black, wavy hair shook with her sobs. Her boobs were enormous with large, dark areolas and pert nipples, and her cunt mound was covered with dark, fine pubic hair through which her crimson vulva slit showed clearly. Joel had certainly won a real prize.
The deputies fondled her breasts, slapped her ass cheeks, and grabbed her pussy as they marched her down off the stage to a round mattress they had placed on the circular platform in the center of the hall. It was a bed waiting to claim her virginity.
“We select the virgin carefully each year,” continued the mayor confidentially to me as we all rose from our seats to follow Polly off the stage to where Joel waiting beside the bed to deflower her.
“She must be eighteen or older, and she must be intact. Our women are always subject to sexual use by the men, as you have seen, so we have to work with her family to ensure that she has not been fucked and that her selection is kept secret from everyone, especially herself. We found in the past that some clever girls figure out they’re being kept away from men and know why, so they escape. Most hide until the festival is over, but some even leave the valley. Such a shame,” he sighed.
“It’s too bad. They eventually get fucked anyway in the outside world, so why not stay here among friends and family?” He shrugged. “Well, at least some of the clever ones think it through and decide to stay. They know it doesn’t matter whether they get fucked the first time in public or in private. If it’s public, at least everyone knows they’ve done it. It helps them accept their new condition, being eighteen and available for community sexual activity.”
We had reached the floor of the hall and stood with the crowd around the bed where Polly’s virginity was about to be sacrificed. The mattress was thick and covered with a fine, white cotton sheet. It measured about five feet across and sprouted leather straps around its margins.
The deputies were fastening padded nylon cuffs to Polly’s wrists and ankles as Joel’s friends joked with him and wished him luck. Festival crew members brought up cameras and lights to record the defloration.
The deputies forced Polly onto the bed on her back. They fastened her wrist cuffs to leather bed straps above her head and pushed her legs up and wide to the edges of the bed beside her ears, fastening those cuffs to leather bed straps as well. This exposed her dark-haired, full-lipped pussy to general view.
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