In the summer, Phaedra, a journalist well known as a strong pen and stubborn character, a real adventurer, visited the Forest of Nymphs with her friends.
After they had put up their tents in a good spot, she donned her backpack and started off in search of a location that would resemble ancient legends, that would have a touch of the mystery of the past. She spent some time wandering, until she came to a clearing that appeared to be the inspiration for Rubens's masterpieces.
In fact, she noticed a rock resembling a recliner, as if the years had faded its details but left its form untouched. She sat down on this warm rock, which she found surprisingly soothing. She closed her eyes and began to imagine the Nymphs who had once dwelt there.
A woman in a delicate dress approached her, lightly touching her arm and inviting her to follow. She pointed to an opening in the clearing that she hadn't noticed earlier, interrupting her thoughts. Her manner and echoing voice filled her with warmth and confidence, compelling her to follow the stranger named Leda without hesitation.
Today is a splendid day, a grand celebration, and our Council has selected you, Phaedra, to participate in the significant Fertilization Ceremony of our Queen, which will enlighten you about our culture.
As they strolled through the forest, she couldn't help but admire her youthful elegance and the way she moved with such grace. Although her direct gaze and deep voice suggested maturity.
Clad in a tantalizing pair of scorching denim shorts, which accentuated the curves of her ample posterior, and a T-shirt, she couldn't help but feel slightly overdressed in comparison to Leda. Sensing her thoughts, Leda coyly suggested that upon their arrival, they could procure a custom-fitted tunic for her, should she desire.
She conquered her ambivalence and graciously declined, fearing that such a venture would leave her feeling far too vulnerable.
How could she possibly know!
In the heart of the central square, a platform had been erected.
In the radiant sunlight, the Chosen Stallion stood before them, his countenance veiled by a somber black ribbon that concealed his eyes.
Clad in resplendent maroon robes, his form exuded an air of regality. His body, devoid of any trace of hair, glistened with a captivating sheen, while his sinewy muscles spoke of strength and vigor. As the wind caressed his lengthy tresses of blond, they danced gracefully, adding to the ethereal spectacle.
The youth, scarcely two decades in age, whom the Queen, in accord with the Council's approval, namely the Seven Wise Ladies, had been selected as her mate for procreation.
"He intended to consummate their passion by bestowing his essence upon her in full view. " in the words of Leda.
"So this beautiful guy is going to fuck their Queen in front of the whole village? Un-fucking-believable!" thought Phaedra to herself with a devilish smile of anticipation.
Indeed, the platform and the entire scene, adorned with an intricate wooden bench reminiscent of the Olympic hoops bench, had been meticulously arranged for this very occasion.
In the distance, nestled towards the posterior and veering towards the starboard side, there resided an immaculate table hewn from the purest alabaster. This table, bestowed with the official title of The Bank, proudly displayed an assortment of sundry articles upon its pristine surface.
To the left stood an immense Gong. Adjacent to it, utterly immobile, stood a substantial busty woman. Despite the sun's relentless blaze, she adorned herself in a garment of black leather.