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My trade as an itinerant man of medicine, dispensing potions and unguents, took me to many places but I was often warned to avoid the village of Yllanysant. Since it lay on a convenient path, I ignored the advice and visited the village regularly.
Yllanysant lies between the rugged mountains and the unforgiving Atlantic. The starved earth yields little bounty, and the villagers are totally reliant on their sheep for their survival and sustenance.
At first the villagers were suspicious of me and reticent, although not overtly rude. I became a regular visitor every Spring while making my way from my winter quarters in the shelter of the city to the coastal towns and villages, and as they got to know and trust me I learned to appreciate them as decent, hard-working folk. The villagers were healthy with robust constitutions and rarely needed my preparations, but they were happy to provide lodgings in return for after-supper narrations of my travels and experiences of town and city life.
On one such visit I remarked to the Village Elder how the village was thriving despite the harsh conditions, and how healthy everyone seemed to be. The Elder considered, then bade me to come back in Autumn, on the tenth full moon of the year.
Curious, I broke my normal routine and returned to the village at the suggested time. The Elder greeted me, and explained that the Yllanysant Sheep Festival would begin the next day.
The next morning, everyone dressed in celebratory clothing and made a procession through the village. It stopped outside a hut on the outskirts where a young girl was led out, dressed in sumptuous finery. She was a slender little thing, aged about ten, with the finely sculpted features which are so treasured in more refined society. A robe was placed round her shoulders, she was lifted onto a throne, and a silver crown placed on her head as she was crowned 'Princess Of The Sheep'.
For three solid days the villagers celebrated with music and dancing, worshipping the Princess by bowing at her feet and offering her sweetmeats, pausing only for a few brief hours of sleep.
Finally, after supper on the third night, there was a mighty drum roll. The women and children left the village hall, leaving only the menfolk and the Princess, sitting on her throne. At this point she was happy and smiling, eager to find out what came next in the celebration.
Two sturdy Priests, dressed in sheepskins and wearing masks complete with horns to look like rams, escorted the Princess from her throne to the middle of the floor. They removed her crown and her robe, and then the rest of her clothes. The Princess protested and tried to protect her modesty with her hands. The Princess was pushed to her knees, a hassock was brought forth and she was forced to bend over it. A stout frame was produced and placed in position over the Princess. Her hands and knees were tied to it so that she couldn't move, with her thighs wide open displaying her womanhood for all to see.
The Village Elder, himself dressed in sheepskins and wearing a ram- mask, then produced a wand, thick as a man's thumb and about two feet long. The end had been smoothed and rounded. The wand was held to the girl's womanhood while the village men recited an ancient chant. When the chant ended there was absolute silence. The Village Elder thrust hard with the stick, piercing the Princess's maidenhead. The Princess screamed and wept and struggled against her bonds. The Village Elder removed the stick and waved it high in the air to show the bloodstained end, whereupon the village menfolk cheered loudly.
The music struck up again and a lively dance ensued around the sobbing Princess, who perhaps hoped that the worst was over. The Village Elder came and sat next to me. The music was again terminated by a drum roll and silence fell, apart from faint sobs from the Princess. The Village Elder explained to me that the Parade of the Rams was about to start.
One of the Priests appeared bearing a mortar containing an unguent, which he proceeded to smear on the Princess's nether regions. The secretions of ewes in season, the Village Elder explained. Then the other Priest reappeared, leading a ram with a rope.
The ram was led to the Princess, where he sniffed her nether quarters curiously. I could tell he was getting excited because his movements became agitated and his cock became erect, protruding from its sheath. Suddenly the ram mounted the Princess and inserted his cock, causing the immobilised girl to scream again. I could see the ram's hind quarters tremble as he filled her with his seed. Sated, the ram dismounted and the Village Elder rose to his feet and shouted the number 'one', echoed by the village menfolk who then cheered loudly.
One Priest led the ram away while the other Priest led in a new ram and the process was repeated. The Village Elder shouted the number 'two' after the ram had serviced the Princess.
After nine rams, the Princess lost control of her bodily functions and pissed herself. Her protests were by now a pitiful croak. By nineteen rams, the Princess had fallen into a deep swoon and the village menfolk were celebrating less loudly, probably because many couldn't count that high. The twenty second ram, or so I thought, refused to mount the Princess and the village menfolk groaned. The Village Elder explained that every ram was brought round time and again until it would no longer mount the Princess, and that particular ram had already serviced the Princess earlier. Sometimes a particularly virile ram would mount the Princess seven or eight times during the proceedings. The more times the Princess was mounted, the better their offering would be received, for which they would be granted a milder winter and a larger number of Spring lambs.
As the count reached the forties and more and more rams were dropping out, I asked the Village Elder how the Princess was chosen. He explained that life was harsh in the village, and there were always several orphan children. They chose the female with the most frail and sickly disposition, the least likely to be able to live a hard-working life and bring up a family. He also explained that by this time of year all the ewes were with lamb but the rams were still frisky, and the ceremony helped to make them more docile and manageable for the winter.
With the count on sixty three, the last remaining ram declined to mount the Princess again. The Village Elder explained that particular ram had already serviced the Princess six times, and sixty three was quite a reasonable total.
The last ram was led away and the village menfolk started to disperse. I asked the Village Elder what would happen to the Princess, now comatose. The Village Elder explained that the Princess was no further use to the village and no man would want her after she had been with ram, so the Priests would carry her body to the top of the cliff and throw her into the sea.
I slept well that night after the three days of carousing. The next day I set off on my way, after thanking the Village Elder for letting me observe their festival and promising to call again in Spring.
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