D|s-M Theatre | May’s Beltane Illuminati Rites
The stage is once more the living woodland clearing, black sky above, real moss and hawthorn heavy with bloom. The stone altar bears a symbol, a pyramid, the All-Seeing Eye. Torches burn low and hungry. The drums were welcoming when you were received, but now they play more urgently, almost desperately, a heartbeat racing toward something it cannot yet claim. The audience sits around a circular stage. Your skin is already prickling. Most in attendance have been to these shows before. Every breath, the air thickens with a raw, collective need. Beltane’s fire is not for sowing seed, but for burning, for the first time. The ancients have sown the soil. This is the time to seek pleasures, while crops grow. The soil and sky feel like virgins again, a renewed, aching, urgent to fill. The rite exists only to prepare every nerve for the long, hot months ahead. The ultimate consummation waits for the Solstice. Tonight, we only satisfy burning desires and sharpen our play for future rites.
Act I – The Green Man Prepares (Solo Masturbation – Laddering the Urgent Flame)
The Green Man emerges from the trees, antlers crowned with fresh may-blossom, body painted in living green and dusted with gold pollen. His cock stands rigid, thick and veined like lightning-struck oak, already seeping with desperate need.
He circles the altar with predatory grace, then stops before it, facing the audience. He begins laddering his cock. Proudly, climbing strokes that grip and release, imagining it’s her mouth. He squeezes hard, hand gliding upward in deliberate rungs, thumb pressing the swollen, wet head on every pass. He oils himself with crushed hawthorn petals and his own leaking urgency, the wet, obscene sounds sharp in the still air. Grunts and low growls escape him as each stroke edges him closer to the brink. Hips snap forward. Breath ragged. He denies himself release again and again, climbing higher with every rung.
His voice is low, rough, edged with hunger:
“By root and thorn… I stoke the flame that cannot yet burn free. Peak Desire awakens.”
The audience feels heat rising in their blood. Skin blushes and Breaths quicken. The rings of fire to each side of the stage smoke, treated with special wood chips, adding to the erotic scent of may blossoms and his arousal. Torches flare higher, feeding on the growing pheromones.
Act II – The May Goddess Prepares (Solo Opening – Becoming the Vessel of Urgent Need)
The fire’s lower. A single shaft of moonlight (spotlight) strikes the altar. The May Queen steps forward, naked, crowned in white hawthorn and wild rose, skin shimmering with pollen and sweat. Her eyes are green, reflecting a fresh spring virginity, lips parted, body trembling with the same urgent ache.
She kneels wide on the moss, thighs opening shamelessly to the circle. Fingers part her outer lips slowly, revealing the glistening pink within. She circles her swollen clit with slick fingertips, groaning softly, then slides two fingers deep inside, scissoring and stretching herself open. A third finger joins, pumping with deliberate urgency. Juices coat her hand and run down her thighs in shining trails. She pulls her fingers free, rubs her slickness over her hardening nipples, and gasps as they tighten in the cool night air. Soft, needy whimpers fill the grove as she prepares her body, making herself wet, open, and aching for the green man.
She whispers, voice shaking with raw need:
“By flower and fever… I open again as virgin fire. Peak Desire prepares me.”
The audience shifts in their seats, thighs pressing together. Cocks twitching. Cunts pulse. Their collective pheromones thicken the air like sweet, heavy incense. The Pyramid on the altar begins to glow with inner heat.
Act III – Mutual Masturbation of the Divine Couple
Green Man and May Queen face each other across the altar, eyes locked in desperate recognition. No words, only mirrored ritual.
He ladders his thick cock in long, urgent strokes, twisting at the head on every upstroke. She plunges three fingers into her dripping cunt while her other hand grinds her clit in perfect sync, occasionally teasing her own ass with slick fingers to wet each hole. Their free hands clasp across the stone, energy crackling between them.
Everyone, including the couple, envisioned cum in heavy strands from his cock on the altar. Her ejaculate splashes onto the moss with every thrust of her fingers. They edge together, bodies straining, moans and gasps rising louder, never letting the fire crest. The drum pounds harder, matching their ragged breathing. They move facing one another on the altar, and he reaches between her thighs and takes over, stimulating her. She moves her wet hand and wraps her slick fingers around his hot, red, worked cock, again working one another but not climaxing.
The audience is breathing with them now, shallow, fast, desperate. Some unconsciously rock their hips. The grove fills with the wet sounds of self-pleasure, the scent of sex, and rising pheromones that swirl visibly in the torchlight.
Act IV – The Consummation (Vines, Plugs, Mouth & Anal)
Green Man lowers the May Queen onto the altar. Living vines, thick and green with spring’s virginity, coil up to bind her wrists overhead and spread her ankles wide to the four winds. She is displayed, open, glistening, and aching.
He reaches into the altar bowl, crushes fresh wild mint leaves between his palms, and slowly rubs the cool, sharp juice directly onto her swollen clit. A sharp, icy tingle blooms across her pearl. She gasps and arches hard against the vines as the menthol fire awakens every nerve.
“By the wild herb of the grove,” he growls, “your desire is sharpened… urgent, virgin, and ready.”
He then selects the plugs from the earth-washed sack:
- A smooth wild white carrot, lubed in her own dripping juices, pressing deep into her ass as she cries out and clenches around the urgent stretch.
- A small, firm red beet pressed tight against her mint-kissed clit, pulsing with every heartbeat.
BDSM elements layered in sacred darkness:
- Light stinging kisses from hawthorn switches (crop) across her breasts and inner thighs.
- Hot beeswax dripped in slow ritual spirals over her belly and aching nipples.
- A Black blindfold (or an Illuminati mask) tied so that only sensation and sound remain.
- Rose-thorned leather flogger teased across bound skin, awakening without breaking.
Green Man kneels and forms the Illuminati Pyramid with both hands, showing the audience. He then drops and presses the living symbol against the spring goddess’s open vulva, pulling her lips wide and hooking his fingers inside, pulling open her cunt. He leans down, licks her deeply, tongue-fucking her until she begs in broken whimpers. He then replaces his tongue with the curved parsnip, plunging in and out. Leaving both holes plugged, he moves to the other end of the altar.
He wants to take her mouth. The vines give slack as he moves to her head. He places the throbbing, weeping head of his cock at her lips. She opens eagerly and swallows him, humming with desperate need. He fucks her mouth with slow, deep thrusts, growling as her tongue works him.
Finally, he returns between her spread thighs. He pulls the carrot from her ass, replaces it with the thick, curved parsnip lubed in her own slickness, and ever so slowly pushes his cock into her tight ass. The first penetration feels raw, urgent, almost virginal, as if both bodies are discovering this fire for the first time. He fucks her ass with controlled ferocity, long, punishing strokes that make her cry out to the heavens. The beet grinds against her clit with every thrust. Vines tighten. Her moans turn into screams. His growls echo through the grove.
He looks out to the audience, voice a deep Beltane growl:
“By the Eye that watches all… we prepare the flesh. Peak Desire rises. We do not plant tonight; we sharpen the blade for the months to come.”
The audience’s pheromones explode upward. The fires roar. The Pyramid blazes white-hot. Every thrust drives raw sexual energy outward, flooding the circle, making hearts hammer and bodies ache with renewed urgency.
They ride the edge together, bodies locked, energy cresting but held back. When the wave finally breaks, Green Man pulls out and sprays his hot seed across her belly, breasts, and throat in thick ropes, marking her without planting. Her body shudders as her cunt and ass spasm beneath the warm rain of his release.
Final Tableau
They remain entwined on the altar, vines loosening into soft leaves, bodies shining with sweat, slick, and seed. The Green Man’s antlers cast the Pyramid’s shadow across her marked belly. The May Queen’s eyes open, glowing with fresh, sharpened hunger.
They speak as one, voices low and resonant:
“The Eye has seen. Peak Desire has been whetted. The bodies are prepared. The audience has become the flame. We wait, urgent, virgin, ready, for the Solstice fires.”
The drums fall silent. The torches sink to glowing embers. Only the heavy scent of sex, crushed may-blossom, mint, and living want lingers in the grove, proof that every person here now carries the sharpened edge of Beltane through every warm night to come.
End of May D|s-M Theatre scene.
The woods remember. Your desire is awake. Carry the urgency until Midsummer calls us to burn completely.
Blessed Beltane. The Illuminati of Peak Desire has been served.
