The Moon Goddess Festival

The night before the moon goddess festival, I lay in my spacious bed in my grass-roofed hut. Despite the breeze, it was a warm night, and I stayed on top of the sheets, running my hands very sensually over my nude body, visualizing and savouring all that had happened since I came to the tropical island of Vahinaki and was chosen to become the Matuatele. My whole body, my whole being, was trembling with anticipation.

I am honored as a living goddess in a Polynesian community of women, a matriarchal society based upon pagan, female-centric sex worship.

How delicious. And even better than I could have dreamed since receiving a three-year, $100,000 grant from the University of Washington to complete my Ph.D thesis in anthropology.

In just a year, I had already lived out many of my most decadent, self-indulgent, and kinky fantasies in a public setting, with beautiful, pliant native women.

There was my favourite slave, the buxom Mahina, with whom I had lain on a hillside, lapping at her cunt as she tasted mine, until two svelte moon goddess dancers came by to watch and slid sweet red berries into my slit for Mahina to devour. There was Mahina's friend, Halia, heavily pregnant and rejected by her female lover...until she came to the Matuatele to beg for my favor, and I rewarded her with my goddess tongue, knowing she too would become my slave in time.

Punishing Mahina in public for transgressing the sanctity of my chamber, whipping her in front of the village women with a jade butt plug thrust deep up her ass...that was a wonderful moment. And then my preoccupation for the last week: teaching Mahina's 19-year-old daughter Ailani and her 21-year-old friend Noelani -- the younger sister of Halia -- all about the delicious pleasures of sex between women.

On this very bed, we had all lain together naked the night before. I reclined in the middle, in true goddess fashion, my body turned toward Ailani's, kissing the tall, coffee-skinned girl deeply and breathing in the sweet fragrance of her long, dark hair. Noelani -- all warmth, giggles, and flashing eyes -- was nestled up against my buttocks from behind, stroking and kissing my body while I made out with Ailani.

"Make the Matuatele feel good, baby," I told Noelani between kisses. "Touch my beautiful pussy now, sweetheart. Don't be shy. Put your hand on a real woman's beautiful pussy -- just like I showed you on the beach yesterday. Lick your fingertips for me now...oh yeah, you make me so proud. I want you to rub me good, Noelani. Put those fingers together and rub down in a nice, diagonal line right across your Matuatele's wet clitty. Oh shit...that feels so lovely. Oh yeah, Noelani...rub me off so that I come hard, so that the whole fuckin' village can hear, while I suck your best friend's tit into my mouth..."

Tonight the girls were sleeping on separate, woven grass mats at the foot of my bed together. I could hear their gentle, contented breathing, and I was tempted, but I needed to save my strength for the moon goddess festival. At last I fell asleep myself.

During the day, all the women were busy preparing the village for the festival. Outside each hut, a small, stylized wooden idol was placed. The statuette depicted the moon goddess, her breasts proudly thrust outward, holding up a perfectly round white quartz stone, polished to a glistening sheen. Around the pole honoring the moon goddess in the village square, small pyramids of fresh fruit and vegetables were erected and wood was stacked in preparation for the sacred bonfires.

In the morning, canoes arrived from the nearby island of Nukunga, and the menfolk who lived there took the youngest girls away for the day. This ensured that the festival could unfold in the traditional spirit, the spirit I desired -- a bacchanalian, anything-fuckin'-goes orgy for women exclusively.

I had heard the tales from the women of the village council, but never experienced it myself. I could feel the excitement mounting as I walked around the village to inspect everything and confirm it was in order. Women approached me, eyes downcast in even greater submission than usual, eager to kiss my hand or foot in passing. "Thank you for representing the moon goddess here on earth," they murmured. I rode high on the sensation of power as I gracefully accepted my due.

Strolling back toward my hut, I smelled the delicious feast of pork with fresh pineapple slices that my slave Mahina had spent hours preparing. I would need plenty of strength for the excesses that were to come. As I entered, I noted with pleasure that my slave had also laid out my ceremonial robes for the evening: long, white, flowing, breathable silk adorned with depictions of the moon in her various phases, and the word "Matuatele" embroidered in small gold letters around the hem. A long slit, designed to showcase my legs tantalizingly, completed the ensemble.

Mahina was kneeling, nude with a collar around her neck, next to the table where the food awaited. Without a word of thanks, I sat down to enjoy myself and feast on the food I deserved. It felt good to see my slave knowing her place, getting the real goddess ready for the festival of a lifetime.

At length, I plucked a roast plantain from my plate, and without making eye contact with Mahina, held it out for her to eat from my fingers. When she had finished, I told her: "Go find the girls. Tell them to join me for dinner."

Mahina replied, "Of course, Matuatele." She left the room on her hands and knees. Minutes later, Ailani and Noelani hurried in, both decked out in floral-patterned sarongs. I cast an admiring eye over my young proteges and indicated they could sit at the table with me.

"I'm nervous about tonight," said Noelani, licking pineapple juice off her fingers. "Never before have I attended the festival."

"It's the same for me," Ailani said, her dark eyes flickering with concern.

I laid a comforting hand on both of them. "This is my first time too. You're going to have a wonderful time. How many girls your age can say they have served as the handmaidens of a true goddess? Stay close to me, and always remember to do what I say."

The rites began when the sun slipped below the western horizon. The women of Vahinaki assembled on the beach in the warm night as the full moon cast her bright, shimmering light across the still sea. Each wore what she desired, from light sarongs and skirts to freshly made grass skirts, like the 20 drummers who delivered a steady yet deliciously sensual undercurrent for my opening incantation.

Surrounded by flickering torches, I rose from my carved wooden throne and raised my arms toward the sky before the watching eyes of the Polynesian women. "Hear us, O Moon Goddess! We praise you for your light, for your beauty, for your rhythms that carry us through the years. As we worship you tonight at your sacred festival, we worship every woman and the power she holds within. We worship ourselves!"

Except for the torchbearers and drummers, every woman prostrated herself on the sand at my words. "Hail the Moon Goddess! Worship the Matuatele!" they chorused.

"Tonight, bless us, O Moon Goddess!" I continued, striding slowly over the sand, hypnotizing the women with my voice. "After a year of hard work, we come closer to you with a night of infinite pleasure. We celebrate your goodness in different ways, some submitting, some rising up and becoming even stronger. We celebrate our voices and our appetites. And in keeping with our carnal nature, we celebrate our bodies -- our breasts, our buttocks, our wet yearning cunts -- and we have no shame whatsoever!"

The Polynesian women were electrified. "Worship the Matuatele! Worship the Matuatele!" they chanted. One tall woman stepped out of the crowd and pulled her sarong down to her waist, fully exposing her dark-tipped breasts in the moonlight. "I have no shame!" she cried. She threw a wreath of flowers toward my throne as I remounted it. Two 18-year-old girls -- incredibly excited -- tore off their grass skirts and began to dance sensually in front of me, touching, swaying, and kissing. The volume of the drums increased.

I waved my hand, and Ailani and Noelani, among others, quickly grasped the carrying poles attached to my throne and lifted me up. "To the square!" I commanded. "Let there be dancing for all!"

Beneath the pole of the moon goddess, I joined the village women -- hundreds of them -- in uninhibited, sensual dancing. Next to the bonfires, beautifully trained dancers gyrated in intricate patterns, while I led the singing of lascivious, ancient Polynesian songs that celebrated the wantonness of women.

I opened up my robes and began to play with my now-thoroughly aroused cunt right in front of the crowd, encouraging others to do the same. I snatched up fresh berries and tropical fruits from the pyramids honoring the moon goddess, hungrily thrusting them into my mouth, squeezing their juices over my tits and inviting Ailani and Noelani to come and lick it off like the good girls I had made them into.

It was exciting to see one of my favourite villagers -- a 47-year-old, round-hipped seamstress with a sweet, shy smile -- aggressively approaching another woman, flirting and daring with her eyes, caressing her own breasts, thrusting her half-exposed crotch in an unmistakable gesture. She'd been too shy for too long, but at the festival of the moon goddess, she could finally get the girl she wanted.

As the drums reached a crescendo in the full moonlight, I realized there was yet another ceremonial task for me to perform. I reached deep into the right pocket of my robe, and produced a conch shell modified to serve as a horn. I blew hard into it, and the high, full, golden note brought everyone to a standstill.

"To the houses of pleasure!" I cried. "Let each one satisfy her lust to the full."

With amazing swiftness, brought on by the incredible intensity of our ritual, the women moved off beneath the moonlight toward the large huts that had been set up in a circle around the village for this night.

Each house would hold an unforgettable erotic memory for the Matuatele that night.

I took Noelani to the House of Punishment first. I felt very aroused and aggressive, my nipples standing out through my robes, and that sensation became almost overwhelming when I contemplated the kinky training that I wanted to give Noelani inside this dark house. Beyond her giggles and sweet demeanor, there was something I sensed inside her -- a latent streak of delicious, mistress-like cruelty and decadence, much like the one I'd learned to cherish in myself. It was time to bring it out of Noelani.

Before we entered, a woman handed each of us a full black cloth face mask, representing the moon's dark side. I felt myself getting wetter, more disinhibited as I pulled mine on and watched Noelani's young face disappear beneath hers.

Inside, masked women, their voices whispering and humming with dark lust, sat around the fringes of the grass walls. In the center, next to a single blazing torch, kneeled the nude, curvaceous figure of Mahina.

Oh yeah. A slave, for use, right in front of an audience. Mahina's back was to me, but she glanced back just for a second and she surely recognized me.

I smiled openly as I reached into the other pocket of my robe and pulled out my favourite flogger with its polished balsa wood handle and nine leather tails. "Matuatele! Matuatele!" the women screamed. "Please whip her! Whip her hard, for us!"

I leaned over to Noelani and kissed her masked, mouth to mouth. I opened my robe to show every woman in that room my aroused cunt. I slowly, tenderly ran the leather tails through my pubic hair, over my exposed labia. I was completely ready to give Mahina her fuckin' thank-you for being such a good slave.

Moving to the center of the room, I rubbed myself with my left hand while brandishing the flogger with my right. "Take this, Mahina," I said in a loud, dark, full voice. "Take this, you fuckin' slave!" With a loud lash, I brought the flogger down on my slave's soft brown ass. Mahina screamed with the shock of pain and pleasure, putting her hands down on the dirt floor to brace herself. Her neatly trimmed pubic hair couldn't conceal the swelling of her ripe, fat pussy lips.

I began to flog Mahina steadily, raising dark welts on her slave ass. "Mercy, please!" she cried out, but who said I was a goddess of mercy? Instead, I was a goddess of queenly domination, enjoying my complete power. I laughed at her entreaties, knowing how overwhelmingly aroused Mahina was now. The masked women clapped along to each blow and chanted, "Whip her! Whip the slave!" Noelani nestled next to my left leg, getting a great view of the action.

At last I paused, and tucked away the flogger. I looked down at Noelani. "Do you want to please me?" I asked.

"Yes, Matuatele!" she responded.

I waved for a wooden chair to be brought into the center of the room, and motioned for Noelani to sit on it. "Now, it's time for this slave" -- I gestured toward the moaning Mahina -- "to get over your lap so that you can give her a good spanking in front of everyone."

Noelani's mouth opened wide. I could tell that she was both shocked and aroused. I knew she'd never been sexual with Mahina before. Due to things she'd confessed while we were masturbating each other on the beach the other day, I also knew that she fantasized a lot about Mahina -- and that had only increased since she'd seen Mahina acting as my slave. Most of all, though, I remembered bringing myself off to thoughts of fucking the mother of one of my best friends when I was Noelani's age, and the idea of watching Noelani use Mahina in the House of Punishment got me really fuckin' hot.

Hesitantly, Noelani sat down. Roughly, I grabbed Mahina by the hair and forced her to lie across Noelani's lap. "Do it, baby," I told Noelani. "Bring your hand down on Mahina's ass. I want to see it."

Noelani ran her hand with clear, growing desire over Mahina's well-beaten cheeks. But she didn't raise her hand.

As the Matuatele, I demanded obedience, and I would get it. "You want to make me proud, Noelani?" I demanded. "Then you do the shit I tell you to do. Discipline this slave cunt!"

At last Noelani complied, to the cheers of the masked onlookers. I love hearing women scream out with excitement, and Mahina's was almost too much for me to take. She tried to wriggle off Noelani's lap, but the younger woman held her in place. "You make me so proud, baby," I exclaimed. "Oh shit, I need to come. Oh God, this feels so fuckin' good." I needed a fuck partner to suck me off now. I reached out to a tall, slender beauty craning her head forward for a better view, and she eagerly crawled forward, removing her mask so she could lick my cunt with complete abandon.

Noelani's sweet mouth was curled in a cruel sneer now as she relentlessly spanked her best friend's mother's ass. On a whim, I tossed Noelani the flogger. Without hesitation, she told Mahina: "Open your mouth!" She forced the older woman to suck on it. Then Noelani spread Mahina's ass cheeks open and to the amazement and pleasure of everyone watching, she slowly, deliberately inserted that polished balsa wood handle deep into the slave's ass. Oh yeah.

When I saw that, I started to cream right on the face off the woman who was eating me out. It felt so amazingly good. I kept coming and she kept licking me. The whole room was spinning. I nearly fell, but the arms of beautiful, masked Polynesian women caught me and embraced me. Dimly, I heard Noelani speaking soft, soothing words to Mahina as I lay there, listening to the murmurs of "Matuatele, Matuatele, Matuatele..."

Half an hour later, I rose, shed my mask, and walked out into the Polynesian night. I could hear moans and screams of pleasure echoing across Vanihaki. Beneath a nearby coconut tree, I saw Ailani, her hair and dress looking rumpled, chatting with one of her girlfriends.

When she spotted me, she leapt to her feet and ran over to hug me. "There you are, dear Matuatele! You'll never guess where I've been."

"Do tell," I said with a smile.

Mischievously, Ailani passed her right hand under my nostrils, and I caught the sweet, musky scent of another woman's pussy. "Remember those things you taught me the first time you took me to your bed? About how I always need to give you the pressure you need, and find that one miraculous spot? Well, I was at the House of Touch. That woman Kamea, the seamstress who made your dress -- she invited me to join her and her new girlfriend...and I was able to teach them something new."

"I'm very happy for Kamea," I told her, kissing her on the lips. "What a beautiful tribute to the moon goddess. I think we should have a drink to celebrate. Come with me to the House of Revelry."

Although it was located on the other side of the village, next to a small creek graced by a waterfall, we could hear the whoops and filthy comments coming from this spacious hut, well lit with lanterns shining everywhere. It was completely different from the House of Punishment. A huge bucket, brimming with Tahitian beer, coconut wine, and imported champagne, sat in one corner. Red and gold silk pillows littered the floor, and village women sprawled recklessly across them, kissing one another drunkenly, sucking one another's tits, and reaching up underneath one another's sarongs.

As I entered with Ailani clinging to my arm, cries of praise went up. "Bring the Matuatele whatever she wants!"

I took the place of honour in a corner stacked with cushions, tucking my arm around Ailani. It was exciting to watch the orgy getting underway here. I snapped my fingers and ordered a bottle of the best French champagne.

"I didn't know you drank champagne," observed Ailani innocently.

I took the full bottle from the server and poured the sweet bubbles over my still-aroused tits, bringing Ailani in close to taste my skin. I then greedily swigged more from the bottle, and kissed some of it right into Ailani's sweet young mouth.

"You didn't know I drank champagne?" I said. "Oh, Ailani, you have a lot to learn about who I really am."

Two women in their mid-30's, intoxicated and emboldened, tottered over to us and requested permission, with raised eyebrows, to lie down next to me. I nodded graciously, and they began to caress, kiss and lick my legs. I love being touched, especially by women, and receiving their disinhibited service felt exquisite.

"I am so grateful to be here, Matuatele," said Ailani, pressing her face against my right breast. "This is even better than...those American TV shows I saw in Papeete!"

I laughed and took another drink out of the bottle, as the women stroked me and licked the underside of my knees. "I should hope so, Ailani. What kind of fantasies did they fill your head with?"

"Oh, there was one show...with a girl in Los Angeles...she got rich..."

"Rich? Doing what?"

"You know -- she dressed in outfits like the ones you gave me..."

"Ohhhh." My cunt clenched, as my arousal began to surge once again. "Is that what you fantasize about?"

"Sometimes," Ailani confided. "Sometimes I would love to do it for...you know. Money."

I smiled as an idea came into my head. "Server! Come here again!"

Half an hour later, Ailani and I strutted across the House of Revelry together, fully outfitted in the nasty, revealing attire that our server had fetched from my hut. The room was heavy with the scent of aroused pussy. Hearing the screams of approval and stunned expressions from the Polynesian women there -- especially the ones in their 50's and 60's who had never left Vahinaki -- got me so fuckin' hot all over again.

Triumphantly, I wore my favourite pair of black fishnet tights with the crotch completely cut out, paired with fingerless black lace gloves, a bust-emphasizing red corset, and my Italian leather boots. Ailani had perfected the "innocent slut" look I desired, with white boots, knee-high white stockings, and a blue latex mini-dress that left nothing to the imagination. Both of us were heavily made up -- silver eyeshadow, black mascara, red lipstick that made our mouths pout like our swollen cunts.