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We all understand, even if we don't know it yet.
That's the true purpose of this ceremony: to take us back to our purest knowledge. Before words, before lies in society. The truth is that God created the perfect, wordless animals. They knew without needing to be told. We only suffer because we are arrogant. It's only through humility that we become reunified with the holiness within us.
I hope that's what the auntie told her. That this ceremony will reunite her with her holiness. I hope that she understands. And I think she might. The way she's looking at me now is much steadier. Less like a spring lamb terrified, before the blade. More knowing.
She comes forward in three scuffling steps. She mounts the stairs and stands between us. The aunties take our shoulders then, moving our bodies so that Owen and I face her.
“Look at Father Daddy,” the voice behind me says. Gina pivots, lifting her chin toward me and blinking her big, brown eyes. Half-scared, but maybe… half-excited?
“That's good,” I tell her. I'm not supposed to speak but I want her to know she's doing well.
“Now look at Brother Owen,” comes the other auntie’s voice.
With far less hesitation, Gina pivots one hundred and eighty degrees to look at Owen. His chest is heaving, his cock rigid and glistening. He's staring quite intensely at her and I sense her stiffening, resorting to her natural arrogance.
“On your knees,” the other auntie tells her. She could sense it too. Gina’s attitude has to be made pliant. She has to be remolded. That's why it has to be this way. That's why we have to do what we’re doing.
“On my knees?”
“No more questions,” I tell her. She needs that. She needs a man's voice to guide her.
She drops to her knees, the sound dull but still distinct enough. I hear it like another step has been taken toward her new self. That hard texture against her soft flesh. The marks she’ll have for the next few days to remind her of her transformation.
“Open your mouth,” an auntie says. “And signal your willingness.”
I'm sure she does it, because Owen narrows his eyes at her, sucking his lips between his teeth. He leans forward.
I don't see it. I only watch the top of her head. She leans back and raises her eyes to meet mine. I'm standing behind her as she tips her head back, opening her mouth to take Brother Owen in that first, sweet breach. The first time a man has invaded her borders. The first time her outline has been crossed by our secret, holy flesh.
Owen lays the tip of his cock against her lower teeth, pulsing slightly there before pushing further in. Her pale pink lips stretch around his girth. When she begins to lean too far backward, the aunties catch her by the shoulders.
“Accept this flesh,” they murmur in low, practiced tones. These are our secret words, our whispered ritual.
“Accept this flesh,” they say again, “so that you may know the majesty of a man.”
Owen pulses again, his hips moving slightly, beginning that slow piston. He looks at me briefly, calculating his thrusts to make sure he's not too insistent with her, not too rough.
I shake my head slightly. Not too much. I need him to know that. She's developing nicely. We want her pliable. Not broken.
I see disappointment flash across his features. He never does get what he wants, does he.
“Accept this flesh,” they say again. I see Gina's nostrils flare slightly as her lips close firmly around Owen’s member.
That's it. That's perfect. She's taken the initiative to submit to him.
He sees it too. With a sad smile, he withdraws, his cock still shiny from her spit. She rocks forward slightly, surprised.
“That's it?” she says. Her disappointment is adorable.
“Just a bit more,” the auntie says.
She loosens Gina's elbows as she lifts her back to standing. The other aunties come and rearrange her to face me. Gina blinks again and again. Her features flash. Her lips part as she breathes heavily. The aunties jostle her body back and forth, shaking out her arms to resume circulation there. Gina is transfixed as she stares at me, her chest heaving. She's ready now. I know she is.
The aunties take the front of her dress and sweep it to the side, then lay her down on the dais, facing away from me. Two aunties open her by the knees. Gina doesn't even look afraid anymore. She understands. She knows, even if she doesn't really know with words. She knows without words.
I shouldn't look, but I do. Where the aunties have opened her, that dark patch. That pink spreading. Her sex unfurls before me, opening sweetly like a mouth just gasping in surprise. A swipe of pale pink split by the deeper pink secret inside. Dripping, just a little. Fresh.
“Accept this flower,” the aunties whisper.
