The Great Copulation

Guthrun was 19, and a few months. In the time-measures of those days, she was of age 254 new-moons. Her mother had kept her away from temptation, especially men, so that an advantageous match would be made in due course. But Mamma's plan was about to go wrong.

Guthrun's family lived very many years ago, on the west coast of an island off the continent not yet known as Europe, but gradually coming under the control of a violent empire centred on a city called Roma. There were no countries, as such, anywhere on that continent: only tribes, communities, language-groups and trading partners. Guthrun's people called themselves the Family of Sedonda, and they occupied a long stretch of the west coast of an island that Roman invaders would eventually name Britannia. It would take five days of steady walking and horse riding to cover the Family's territory along a coastline with many estuaries, inlets and tiny islands. And the Family made its livelihood from fishing, coastal farming and trading around neighbouring coasts, islands and seas. The Sedonda did not regard themselves as a tribe: they were more civilised, sophisticated, better organised and led than a mere tribe. They were a Family.

No one knew who Guthrun's father had been; not even her mother, for certain. She had been an affectionate and sensuous young woman herself all those years ago. He was probably a dairy farmer, since that was the dominant occupation in Brymburgha, at the southern end of Sedonda territory.

Actually, no one was sure who Sedonda had been. Some said he was a fierce warrior that had conquered the lands now occupied by the Family. Others said she was a prolific mother [beautiful, of course] who had given birth to dozens of strong sons, who had then roamed the world for wives and mothers of the new nation. The Family was governed by myth and legend.

There was no doubt that Guthrun was a beauty. In fact, she was the most attractive young women in the Family, and everyone agreed who met her; or had simply heard about her. Her hair was raven-black and shone like the starry night sky. Her face was a picture of human perfection; shapely nose, bright and wide eyes, full lips that smiled and spoke with animation, a throat that a man may almost hold with one hand. Guthrun also had adopted the figure style since her childhood of wearing a broad horse-leather belt at her waist; closed with buckles at the front and laced to tightness with hardened leather thongs through metal eyes at the back. So her waist was small by comparison with her hips; and with other women. Her breasts were perfect for a young virgin, strong and shaped upwards, with small dark nipples and needed no support from the usual chest girdle used by other women at the time. Her skin was the colour of milk from one of the family's goats. Such a beauty; and her mother was proud to have given her life. But Mamma's plan for Guthrun was about to go wrong.

The chieftain of the Family was known as the Dwysoch, meaning the Father of the Family. In modern times, this title can be seen still in the Welsh word Tywysog, meaning Prince; and the Irish leader, the Taoiseach. Their Dwysoch had reached the age of 500 new-moons, without a living son. Such a situation had not arisen for three generations, but now precipitated a crisis in Family leadership. Accordingly, Dwysoch had declared that the Family should employ the process of Gurt Trwytho. Guthrun's mother was dismayed. Literally the name implied a great impregnation, a great fathering, and she knew that this was a way to procreate the next Dwysoch. Girls and young women were selected to engage in a great copulation with many men from within the Family. This was the Sedonda version of democracy; with so many men involved, it was impossible to say who was the father. Many men could claim to be the father of Dwysoch, and thus that special honour was shared around the whole family.

Sometimes, the Gurt Trwytho was called humorously the Gurt Tranken: the great soaking or drenching. Guthrun's mother did not know why this term was used but she found the idea not at all humorous. It had not happened in her parent's time, or even in her grandparents'. And now her beautiful daughter would not marry a notable landowner or trader or great warrior; which had been the mother's plan. Even if Guthrun did not become pregnant, which high-status man would want a wife who had copulated already with a 5 or 10 other men; and maybe 20 or 30 other men? Who knew how many it would be?

Accordingly, twenty young women, all virgins, were chosen from all the females in the Family; aged between 240 and 300 new-moon. And, of course, Guthrun was chosen because she was well-known to be of an age that made her a potential baby-maker. The fact that she was also known for her great beauty ensured that many men would be happy to impregnate her if possible. The Gurt Trwytho was popular, as one might expect, but required massive organisation. This was placed in the hands of the Guardians, the main legal personages of the Family, and the Handmaidens to the Dwysoch. The roles of these Handmaidens was as contentious then as it has been among historians ever since. Were they concubines, or housekeepers, or nannies for prospective children, or secretaries and organisers? No one knew and no one asked, in case it opened a serious question on the lifestyle of the Dwysoch.

One moon later, the day came when Guthrun's mother was ordered to deliver her daughter to the Dwysoch-Harstell at Clyvalla, at the northern extreme of Sedonda territory. In modern language: the Chieftain's Hall at Cleveleys. It involved five sunrises of hard travel, with two perilous estuary-crossings; renowned for their cross currents and sudden tidal surges. When Guthrun reached the Hall, she was the tenth to arrive and she knew some of the young women; distant cousins Aoife and Moirin; and neighbour Uinagh. None of them knew what to expect, except that sexual penetration would be required, and they spoke excitedly about the ritual; and not without some trepidation since they were all virgins. They did not wait long in their ignorance.

Early in the morning, all were ceremonially bathed by the Dwysoch's Handmaidens, and told they could wear one item of clothing. Otherwise, they were led naked to the Dwysoch-Harstell. Aoife tried to wear her petticoat that but was refused; so she chose her neck-scarf. Moirin chose her hat, which she thought showed off her hair and her height. Of course, Guthrun chose her broad leather belt and pulled it a little tighter to exaggerate her waist. Other young women selected shoes or necklaces or bangles; all of which were permitted. But nothing that covered hips or buttocks.

All twenty were taken to the special Hall and each was instructed to kneel on a narrow padded bench facing a wall in a large room. Guthrun was leaned forward against a padded support between her breasts and down her torso. Then instructed to place her hands on two shelves in front of her knees. To her consternation, her knees were parted as far as she could manage and strapped to the bench. Also, her shoulders were strapped to the front support and her wrists to the front shelves. Effectively, she was spread out like a frog. She could not move at all and she rebelled.

"Nay, gadiwch i mi fynd. Mae hyn codi ofn i mi," she burst out in her local Celtic dialect.

"No, let me go. This scares me."

"Fy annwyl, ei fod ar gyfer eich diogelwch eich hun," the elderly Handmaiden started her attempt to comfort Guthrun.

"My dear, it is for your own safety. Trust me. The men may push you around a little, otherwise. Rest now and be easy. I shall be here to watch and help you if you need me."

And she kissed Guthrun's forehead, as an aunt or grandmother might do.

Guthrun was not very much comforted and looked along the line of women; each also strapped into the same kneeling position. About four strides apart, and each in her own mating-frame. Aoife was crying out loud. Uinargh had her head down on the front support, her shoulders rising and falling with her silent sobs. These sights did not reassure Guthrun at all. And then Guthrun's entire wooden frame was raised and tipped forward, so that her bottom was higher than her shoulders. And she could hear all the other mating-frames being tipped forward at the same time.

After less than a few heartbeats, a door opened behind the women, and a crowd of people came silently into the Hall. She could not see the crowd but detected that there were many. She did realise, though, that these people would be confronted with twenty raised bottoms, vulvae, widely-spread thighs, upturned feet and almost nothing else.

It was the custom in Gurt Trwytho that as many men could copulate and attempt to impregnate as many young women as they wished. The first boy-child to be born would be the next Dwysoch and his mother would become immediately the Dwyshona: the Royal Mother, and would be privileged for the rest of her life. So copulating with more than one woman gave a man a sense that his seed was more likely to create the next chieftain. At that time, no one knew that women produced eggs in their bodies and that men's role was simply to fertilize them. It was generally believed that a man planted seed in a woman, like a farmer does in the field.

Guthrun looked to one side and saw a queue of men, mostly naked but some still wearing their short shirts, forming behind the first girl in the line; named Dervla and she knew her a little from their childhood. The queue seemed to be 6 or 8 men.

Then she looked the other way and saw a queue of 10 or 11 men behind a stranger whom she knew was named Luagha.

And so it seemed behind each of the twenty virgins: between 5 and 15 men, say.

At this point, one of the Handmaidens came in front of Guthrun and whispered in her ear,

"I'm so sorry, my dear, this is going to be very difficult for you. Just be calm like the water of a deep pool and try to be serene like that swan on that pool. There are many men who want you."

She did not tell Guthrun that the queue behind her upturned body was maybe 500 of the 620 men who had been selected by lots to take part in the Gurt Trwytho. Guthrun's attractions were famous among the entire family of the Sedonda.

The men were all standing behind a woven fence, maybe ten strides from the girls, when another man appeared. He also was naked but he wore a hat with a plume that indicated his office. He was the official "breaker of hymens" and was chosen specially by his personal attributes. He was at least 400 new-moons of age, no children of his own, and married for at least 100 moons to the same woman. Also he was required to have a good reputation for gentleness and honesty. He was called The Breaker. This particular man was new to the office, of course, since Gurt Trwytho had not taken place for two previous generations. It was his job to gently and with as little trauma as possible to deflower each of the virgins, but not to spray his seed inside any of them. At the end of the row was another woman, specially employed, into whom he was allowed to empty his body any way he wished, once his hymen-breaking duties were accomplished.

Starting at Dervla, he spread some honey mixed with goose-grease onto her labia; stood up close to her and slowly let his member penetrate her. For some seconds all was silent in the Hall, until Dervla let out a shriek as he stretched her hymen to tearing point. At that point, he impaled her fully and she slumped onto the breast board supporting the front of her body. Now all the girls knew what he was going to do to each of them.

The Breaker moved onto the second girl, named Sabhinagh. As he did the queue behind Dervla was allowed forward and one-by-one they took hold of her legs of waist or buttocks or ankles, and thrust themselves into her. Dervla's gang-impregnation was under way; she was silent although the men were grunting and occasionally whooping in their excitement and their ejaculations.

Guthrun's interest became very much more self-centred as the Breaker reached her. Mamma had not mentioned anything to Guthrun about her hymen or the need for it to be broken before sex; so the next few minutes were an ordeal, as you will imagine. With deliberately gentle touch, the Breaker daubed his lubricant between her legs and she could sense the slickness and the coolness. Then she felt a little pressure on the spot where her moon-blood left her. She could tell that he was separating her labia with his member and felt the stretch of her tissues. She could feel that the bulbous end of his member was almost inside her but something was stopping his progress and she became tense as the tightness increase. With no warning, her body gave way and to his pressing and she felt simultaneously both a searing pain as her hymen ripped, and also a sense of fullness as he thrust deep into her. The second of these sensations gave her an unexpected pleasure as she felt the bulge inside and the swelling of her own organs responding to his movements. The thought passed through her brain, amid the conflicting sensations,

"This makes me a woman – no longer a child."

As gently as in all his actions, the Breaker withdrew from her and momentarily she was disappointed. She felt empty in a way that was new to her. Similar to the experience of the strong effective enema that Mamma gave her sometimes: a mixture of camomile, rhubarb and peppermint juices. Now she felt empty in a similar way but not the same. She felt a strong desire to refill the space, which never happened with an enema.

But Guthrun had only a few moments for these thoughts and sensations. Without warning, her thighs were grasped and she felt the urgent thrusting of a different male member into her labia, into the new opening and into her insides. This man was bigger than the Breaker and stretched her more. He filled her more and pressed on organs of which she knew nothing; her cervix, uterus and her intestines, especially.

Then this man began moving more urgently and speedily. Thrusting strongly into her, and pulling her body about as he sought better and bigger sensations for his pleasure. Guthrun was lifted as far as her bonds would allow. The leather of the straps dug into her thighs, her ankles and her shoulders as this man tried to lift her from the bench; which was impossible, of course. But he tried so hard, that Guthrun felt she was being separated into her limbs and torso.

Her head flopped about on the end of her body as this man tried to throw her around.

Her eyes were wide open and seemed about to pop out from her face.

She thought she could feel him in her throat; pressing against her tongue. No; he was in her chest, pressing on her lungs.

Then her head began to feel inflated; he must be pumping up her head in some way.

"Oh, our God protect me," she prayed silently, "he will explode me. He will kill me."

She drew a mental image of the massively inflated dying sheep in her father's flock that had swallowed poisonous mushroom or eaten too much bracken.

She was grunting and on the point of screaming.

Then he was finished with her. She felt his surge at the last thrust and the squirt of hot fluid inside her. He relaxed his hold on her thighs and slowly withdrew, with a great sigh.

Guthrun gave a great sigh also but, of course, wondered what was to come next.

Down the line, one of the women shrieked and shouted, "No" but her cry was cut short. Guthrun looked that way and saw a Handmaiden placing her hand across the mouth of one named Gwenhwyfyr.

With hardly a second to wonder about herself, another man entered her and took his hold on her thighs. His treatment of Guthrun was much the same as the previous man. She knew what was happening and felt relief again as he withdrew, having pumped his load of eggs into her body; as she thought.

Guthrun pondered on her situation and her appearance at the Gurt Trwytho. She knew that she was chosen because of her attractions, but was surprised to realise that none of these men could see her face or her breasts, and certainly not her beautiful hair. From their view, she was merely an upturned bottom and female parts, with a thigh sticking out to either side. She felt demeaned for the first time in this ritual; as if she herself, the beautiful Guthrun, didn't matter at all. Only her opening from where the baby would come.

But even in that she was wrong. The next invader smeared her with the authorised grease but entered her anus and rectum instead. This was a serious shock to Guthrun, who had no experience of normal procreation; let alone the practise of buggery. This man was small, so the physical shock was less than it might have been. Years later, she surmised his entry into her tight little brown hole came from his inability to fill her vagina. Whatever the reason, this man thrust his member into her entrails for a long time; longer than either of the previous men. And eventually he grasped her thighs more strongly, took deep breaths with groans in his throat, and finally pumped his seed into her intestines. Guthrun felt less in sensations from this ejaculation, although there had been more at the opening and just inside her rectal area. She did not know what to think about this. Why so much sensation from an action that would not produce babies?

She had no answer, but determined to explore the sensations if the same thing were to happen again.

What shall we say? In the first day, Guthrun gave release to about 75 men. By the time the sun set and darkness began to descend, the Guardians and the Handmaidens needed to make certain decisions about Guthrun and her queue of potential fathers.

"We cannot limit the number of men; you know that. They are all eligible. It is the law from many generations past," said the senior Guardian.

"But this girl may not survive the Trwytho," objected one of the Handmaidens, "are we ready to announce a death in the search for the son of the Dwysoch?"

"Surely it is not so perilous for her," queried another Guardian, "you Handmaidens are there to prevent violence or cruelty, surely."

"There are six of us and there are over 600 men. Tell me how we shall control the Trwytho if violence breaks out, or disagreements in the queue for this girl."

"I fear there is nothing we can do at this time. If there is violence or other unpleasantness, then we can take action with the Dwysoch's household guard if necessary," the senior Guardian spoke again, "That is the end of this discussion. The Gurt Trwytho will continue immediately."

And so Guthrun's insemination continued at the rate of about six men every hour. None of the Guardians or the Handmaidens did any calculation but clearly Guthrun would be accepting men for some days and nights. Without respite, or rest, or cleaning. And how should she be fed and offered drinks with hundreds of men queuing to enter her and pull her around? The question was left unanswered.

Back in the Hall, all the women and girls, except Guthrun, had finished their obligations to the men; and left to return to their homes and their mothers in most cases. But Guthrun remained and her body continued to accept men by the dozens, and ultimately by the hundreds.

Early in her impregnation, she noticed distinct types of men and classes of behaviour. Rough men, noisy men, fat men, tall men, gentle men, quick men and slow men. But also she began to experience a different outcome to the visitations by some men, such as this one: he was perhaps the twentieth man in the queue. He entered her with no hesitation and pumped back and forth for about 100 breaths and suddenly, without warning or reason, withdrew and poured his jet of seed onto Guthrun's back and neck. He was the first but not the last, and raised a question in Guthrun's dazed mind: Why not lay his seed in her body? Did he dislike her or fear her or gain some special pleasure from humiliating her in this way?