This is the story the Pixies brought me this year. I told them it wasn't Celtic because it wasn't Irish. That was a mistake. Don't ever piss off a swarm of Pixies. I would prefer to knock a hornet's nest out of a tree. After they calmed down... a little... they said if I was going to be so ignorant about Celtic history they would stop bringing me stories. It is now indelibly imprinted on my mind that the pre-Norman Welsh were Celtic!
Anyway, this is the story of a descendent of Gwenllian Ferch Gruffydd, a warrior Queen of the Celtic Welsh. As with all of my Celtic stories, some of it is based on history, some on myth, and some just springs from the depth of my twisted mind. I leave it to you to figure out which is which.
I had a really difficult time deciding which category to use for this story. It is a Halloween fantasy, and it has some elements of BDSM, but in the end, I decided its primary running theme was female-female sexual situations so I chose Lesbian Sex as the category.
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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2020 by The Technician.
Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.
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Laura Broderick was named for her mother. Most Americans wouldn't recognize that because her mother's name was Lowri. But if you were from Wales or knew any Welsh history, you would recognize that Lowri and Laura were the same name. Names aside, there was no doubt that Lowri and Laura were mother and daughter. Both had the very fair, burns-red-in-the-sun pale skin common of someone with Celtic heritage as well as pale green eyes, and reddish-orange hair. According to her father, Thomas Broderick, Laura also shared her mother's temper and determination.
The most recent showing of that determination-- and to some extent her temper-- was when Laura and her father disagreed about having the Serene Sisters of Sibyl at the house for a Halloween Party.
"You know your mother is going to be home visiting relatives," her father argued. He had met Lowri while studying in England. They fell in love and were married before he finished his year of study. She agreed to return to the states with him with one provision. She claimed that she was a descendant of Gwenllian Ferch Gruffydd, the Welsh Joan of Arc / Maid Marian / Queen Guinevere, and had to be free to go back to Kidwelly every year for two weeks to visit family and participate in some ceremonies of remembrance. The two weeks she needed to be gone were always the last week of October and the first week of November. Thomas thought that was a small price to pay for marrying such a beautiful woman. He wouldn't know until long after the wedding day that she was also rich... very rich.
"And you know that I will be on duty all night," he continued. Thomas was a police officer in Wexford. It was a relatively quiet town and the small police force made it a point to know the people who lived there, including the students at the local college. Such close relationships between the people and the police leads to a quiet, peaceful town. But Halloween was always a trying time with teenagers up to this or that and some of the college students getting a little excessive with their partying, so all officers were on duty overnight.
Laura was a senior at WCC -- Wexford Community College. The college was originally a two- year, all commuter college, but had grown into a full four-year college in recent years with a significant number of students living in dormitories and apartment buildings in and around the campus. There were no official fraternities or sororities, but there were several "special interest groups" that used Greek letters to identify themselves.
One such group was the Serene Sisters of Sybil, known on campus as the Triple Sigmas. Laura was the president of the Triple Sigmas. Actually, she was their Chief Wise Woman, but for purposes of representing the Sisters to the outside world, she was their president.
The Serene Sisters were dedicated to the wisdom of nature. In the past, they would have been called witches, but they eschewed that designation and preferred to think of themselves as modern-day wise women. Since they also did not adhere to many of the religious aspects normally associated with wise women, they did not use the term "Wiccan." They did, however, recognize that many of the mystical and magical practices normally associated with wise women had some basis in reality. As Laura said to all new members, "There may not be a scientific explanation for them... yet... but that doesn't mean they don't work."
One of those practices that seemed to have some efficacy was the "Witches' Sabbath." That practice can be traced to the Dark Night celebrations held in Ireland, Wales, and to some extent, in England in the old days. Dark Night was a time of renewal. Everything was made new. Homes and barns and storage areas were totally cleaned. Fires were extinguished and hearths and chimneys cleaned out. Then on the first dark of the moon following the autumnal equinox, a sacred fire would be built by the local shaman. There would be dancing and celebrating around the fire and then at midnight, after the bonfire had burned down, the people would take a glowing ember home in a carved-out turnip to relight their home fires.
People who did not follow those practices often encountered disease and misfortune over the winter. People became sick. Houses burned. Women miscarried. Today we would say that the careful cleaning of homes and storage places was what prevented the diseases and miscarriages, and the thorough cleaning of the hearths and clearing the build-up of creosote from the chimneys was what greatly reduced the likelihood of chimney fires over the winter. There was nothing necessarily magical about Dark Night. There was nothing necessarily sacred about the bonfire, but the people who followed the practices of Dark Night benefitted greatly from what they did.
Laura and her fellow Sisters knew that there was nothing magical about their Halloween ceremonies-- which were based on Dark Night-- but somehow, something about opening oneself to the sky and each other allowed an increase of consciousness and knowledge. And there was, of course, the sex.
Again, from a purely scientific point of view, being able to create the personal courage necessary to dance naked in the moonlight would enable a woman to find the courage for many things as she journeyed onward in life. Standing open and receptive... and naked... around a fire trained a young woman's mind to be open to many things in the future. And what better way of forming lasting bonds than becoming intimate with someone in a ritualistic setting. Most of the Serene Sisters of Sybil had boyfriends or significant others. Most went on to marry and raise families, but the relationships they formed as a part of Triple Sigma were with them forever. The good ol' boy network may have once ruled the boardrooms, but networks such as the Triple Sigmas were becoming just as strong.
It had taken Laura a lot of convincing to get her father to agree to the party. It had taken even more to get her fellow Sisters to agree. Normally they went out of town to an alumnae's farm or large estate and held a bonfire. This year, besides being in town, Laura wanted the fountain in her backyard to be the center of their dance. Even in Wexford, known for its warm weather, the end of October tended to be cool. Midnight on October 31st would tend to be downright chilly. The fine spray of a fountain as they danced around it would not help. After much discussion, a compromise was reached. There would be a fire... in the corner of the Broderick's walled in back yard. But the ritual dance would take place around the fountain.
Laura's house was not ostentatious. From the street it looked very much like many of the other homes in their suburb. But the back yard, walled for security, composed several acres. It was as quiet and secluded as any of the farm fields on which they had built their bonfires in the past. The walls on the outside were surrounded by a pasture which was used by a local woman who raised goats and sold boutique-style goat cheese. People in town wondered how she could afford to rent such a large area of land right at the edge of town, but in reality, she paid nothing in rent. The land had been purchased by Lowri to ensure privacy and the goats, themselves, paid the rent by keeping the grass cropped short and discouraging trespassers.