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It's all I can do to try to remain calm as I approach the platform. I stop just before it, waiting for instructions.
“Come up here with us,” Father Daddy murmurs. His eyes are green. I never really noticed that before. They are intense and dark, almost as dark as the forest in shadow.
I have to let go of my garment to raise my knee to step up. I feel it slide open almost all the way to my armpits. Brother Owen's eyes flicker toward my side and I wonder how much of me he just saw.
“It's all right,” Father Daddy says in a low voice. “You don’t have anything to be worried about. We will help you. We're here to help.”
I stare at him, trying to connect. I want to know if this is punishment for my confession. I feel the answer must be in his eyes. Is this one of the traditional forms of discipline? Is that why the aunties had to leave?
But there's nothing but intense curiosity in his eyes. Well… actually, there is something else. Something that burns.
He clears his throat. His voice is gravelly and ominous. “Brother Owen and I have discussed your situation… do you remember? What you told me this morning?”
My hands fly up to cover my mouth. Oh! So it is all about that. I’m so embarrassed. I want to run away. I want to explain.
But before I can say anything, Father Daddy reaches out and grasps my hands lightly, drawing them away from my mouth.
“There's no need to hide, child,” he scolds me gently. “You can’t hide anything from us.”
I glance at Brother Owen, who was also nodding. He looks at me with the same sort of intense, smoldering gaze. His features seem thickened, more masculine I've ever seen. He is breathing through his parted lips, and I can almost hear the sound.
“I want you to remember what you told me. Are you remembering it?” Father Daddy asks me.
I nod quickly. Yes, I remember every word. In fact I feel it throbbing just under the surface, pulsing like a light.
“That's a natural part of you, Angel. It’s hidden to children, and even some adults. Brother Owen is going to show you… how to access it.”
Brother Owen breathes sharply in, exchanging a very serious look with Father Daddy. Father Daddy nods almost imperceptibly, as though giving him permission or something.
Brother Owen unties the cord around his neck and removes his cloak. It falls to the ground with the soft sound, revealing him in all his masculine glory.
He looks different close up. Smooth, like leather. His skin is tanned and beautiful, rippling under over rows of muscles. There is a neat V shape over his hips that points directly down into the wiry thatch of hair that crowns his erect manhood.
My breath catches my throat. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. Obedience opened her mouth. Am I supposed to…
“Please sit,” he says in a gentle growl. He holds his hand out to the throne behind him. I choke back a gasp. His throne? He wants me to sit there?
Obediently I shuffle toward the throne and tug my shift upward slightly so that I can sit on the very edge. It's quite tall, a little too tall for me. I have to balance on my tiptoes.
“That's good,” he tells me. “Now, please lift the front of your gown.”
My heart beats wildly against the inside of my chest as I nod nervously and try to command my fingers to do as he's asked me. Slowly I gather the fabric into my hands and raise the front of my dress above my knees, then over my thighs. His eyes are transfixed on my skin as it is revealed, inch by inch.
“That's good,” he murmurs again, and to my surprise he falls to his knees in front of me. I've never seen this. Is he praying?
I watch in awe as he kisses the inside of my knee. His hand traces the top of my other thigh, nudging it gently outward. I bite back a mewl of discomfort as the demon twists inside me. I don't want him to know about it. He can't know.
“It's all right,” Father Daddy says, coming alongside me. He also unknots the cord and removes his robe. “What you are feeling is completely natural. It's the womanhood that lies inside you. It's the holiest part of you, and you're blessed to know it.”
I gasp as Brother Owen slides his tongue along the inside of my thigh, nudging himself toward my flower. This is really happening?
“That's it,” Father Daddy encourages me. “Open yourself to Brother Owen. Share yourself with him.”
I hold my breath and let my thighs fall further open. Brother Owen groans deeply and presses his face closer to me. I feel his breath at my sex. Then I feel his tongue: slippery, soft, and incredibly warm. It flicks slightly across my seam.
Brother Daddy takes my hand and disengages it from where I have been clawing the arm of the throne. He turns my hand over and lays his erect member across my palm. My fingers close automatically over it and I'm momentarily diverted from what Brother Owen is doing to explore this new, strange sensation. It’s velvety soft, rigid but covered with skin that slips back and forth. It’s so thick that my fingers barely close around it. When I use a little bit more pressure, he begins to pulse against my palm, thrusting slightly.
I glance up at him, surprised to see that his expression is so intense, so focused on me. Has he been staring at me this entire time? He looks magnificent, looming over me like a god. I find myself smiling in gratitude. He nods as though he understands and begins to pulse a little more, drawing his member a couple inches b
