Twisted Sacrament

by Zoe Blake

  “Get on with this or you’ll both earn a lashing.” The old man grunts, shifting in his chair.

  I startle when Dinah touches me on my private parts, it’s unnatural and unclean, but my body reacts to it. I am merely a man and all women are seductresses, put on earth to tempt us into worldly sins. This is no sin, this is a part of the passage from boy to man, from unmarried to joined for all eternity. This is the price I have to pay for killing Naomi.

  Her nimble fingers wrap around my length and grip me in a way that no man could ignore.

  “Watch, Vashti,” Dinah says, and I look to where my fiancée sits with her eyes closed. “This is for you to learn, both of you.” Dinah’s voice is soft and sad, not harsh and angry like my father’s. Vashti opens her eyes, but she won’t look at me. My mother’s hand still warm around my penis, she begins to tug on it. The same way I did once as a boy, the sting of the lashing I got still hisses over my skin just thinking of it now. She pushes me so that I am forced to sit down on the end of the big wooden bed, where she drops to her knees before me. Facing my father and Vashti now, I can see the cruel grimace on his face, and I know I will pay for this later. Any pleasure I get will be punished with pain. As her lips wrap around my erection, my eyes lock with Vashti’s. They are wide with shock and red with the sting of unshed tears. She doesn’t move, determined to be a good wife. She sits there and watches as I take pleasure from my mother’s mouth. I cannot ignore the sensation as I feel my balls pull tight and the burning need to grab her head and hold it still so I can force myself deeper, needing more. I want this to be over. I want to be right in the eyes of God and marry the girl watching me. I imagine her sweet pink lips around me this way, her eyes watering just like they are now as I thrust deep into her throat. The pink of her nipples would match them, I can see them hard against the fabric of her shirt. As much as it hurts her, she’s affected by what she is watching. A subtle shift in my father’s posture lets me know I am over-stepping, going too far, so I put my hand under Dinah’s chin and pull myself free from the bliss of her mouth. My cock glistens with her spit in the soft light, hard and pulsing with all the blood that has drained from my entire body.

  Vashti bites down on her lip and my dick twitches, a bead of my seed forms on the tip and rolls slowly down mixing in with the wetness. Dinah stands up and takes my hand leading me around the side of the bed and we both climb on. I lay down as I was taught I should. Just as she straddled Vashti at the temple, Dinah straddles my lap. I can smell the sweet lavender scent that has been hers since I was just a boy, and heat radiated from her special place as she forces my hardness inside her. Swallowing me into manhood, luring me over the edge of sanity as I buck beneath her. Still, with me filling her she looks up at the roof, unable to look at me as we do what God wants. This is for Vashti, it’s for her to learn, it’s so that I know how to please her too. Dinah lifts herself up and comes back down, her body grinding against mine, the roughness of the hair down there creating friction and sensations that my hand never did. Naomi’s body didn’t feel like this. She was dry, and unwelcoming, hard and stiff.

  My mother moves on top of me. I want to stop her, but I dare not touch her, he would cut off my hand. My seed is burning hot, I can feel it there, right at the tip as I fight to keep it in. I close my eyes and grit my teeth together, but it’s useless I have no defense against the way her body milks mine and I erupt inside her with a roar, my knuckles white as I grip the blood red sheet and every muscle in my body protesting to the reality that I just spilled myself inside the woman who raised me.

  It’s God’s way.

  Chapter 12

  Vashti

  I was escorted home after last night’s nightmare by my father-in-law. He gave me a talk on the way, reminding me that it would be my job to please Ezra that way, that a good wife does not leave her husband needy, and since Ezra now had only one wife it would be my duty to meet all of his needs. Fear settled in me, because I wasn’t sure I could be everything he needed. Would I be enough to fill the place of two women? The things Dinah did, I was horrified, such sinful acts. Yet, my insides burned with a strange warmth as I imagined myself in her place. I will learn to please him, if that is what he needs. I will do it, because now that I am no longer a virgin and I have committed a murder, I know I cannot return to the convent to serve God. I have nothing else but Ezra. Today we will be joined, and my heart is filled with joy, sadness and fear of what will be expected of us.

  There is no virginal white gown waiting for me in my room, instead a black dress and veil hang from the back of the door. Miriam and Dinah are both here to help me prepare for the celebration, Miriam is excited. She has told me that I have made them all proud, and that I will be a good wife. Dinah is quiet. She seems different after last night; it’s as if she is ashamed. Her eyes won’t meet with mine and she hasn’t said a word all morning.

  Miriam sits down beside me after my bath. “You are going to be a beautiful bride, there will be many envious men in the temple today.” She takes my hand and I know whatever comes next will not be good, nothing has ever been right for me, and I have begun to wonder if it ever will be. My life was simply never meant to have good in it. “After the temple joining you will be taken together to Ezra’s home by the congregation, they will be there for your physical joining.” I want to act as if I don’t understand, to pretend that she’s not telling me they will all watch as we do what he did with Dinah last night. But I know better, this is not going to be the princess wedding that little girls dream of. “After that, the doors will be locked from outside, and you will spend seven days inside with your husband. On the seventh day, his father will open the doors and end the wedding rituals with you.”

  “Thank you.” These are the only words I can muster, because if I fail at this I will be out on the streets, somewhere alone and not even God would take me after what I have done, so I need to make the best of this. I have a roof over my head and a good man, or so everyone says, at my side.

  “Ezra will rise in his position because of your joining, this is a good thing, Vashti. God chose you for him, to mend all the hurt of his past. You are a good woman; I have no doubt you will be happy here. I know this was all a shock, you weren’t raised here, these are all strange ways for an outsider, but you have made him a very proud man. Restored his place in heaven and made him whole in the eyes of God. You are a good woman, Vashti.” She sounds so convinced that she even manages to soften the doubt inside me. Maybe God did choose me for this.

  The black dress clings to my body, hugging it in a sheer embrace. My face is lightly painted with soft makeup and dark wine red lips, Dinah puts a heady perfume between my breasts and the smell intoxicates me. My hair is twisted and pulled back off my face before a crown of silver crosses is fixed to it, a sheer back veil covers my face and I am a bride. I am his bride. I am about to be joined to Ezra, for eternity, not even death can separate a wife from her husband.

  “You look as beautiful as Miriam did in the dress.” Dinah speaks as I turn in front of the full-length mirror. Moments later, I am ushered from the house into a waiting car and whisked away to the temple, where I wait in the room with the white altar and bad memories of just a week ago.

  I didn’t understand many of the things the Prophet said in the temple, but I didn’t care, because the way that Ezra looked at me made none of it matter. In those moments with hands joined and eyes locked I lived to please him. Nothing was more important than being a good wife, because I had nothing else to live for but him. I’m so lost in him that he has to remind me to answer the Prophet.

  “Say yes,” he whispers, reminding me that this is my choice.

  We walk out of the arched temple doors into the blustering wind and bright sunshine. People I don’t know shower us with confetti and well wishes. Then we are driven home, behind a long line of black cars just like the one we are in. Outside we wait as people file out of them and into our small home. My legs shakes with nerves and the hand that Ezra has
silently held all this way home trembles in his grip.

  “Don’t be afraid, Vashti, don’t ever be afraid. I have not let you down yet have I? This is a happy day. God has given me a wife and a second chance,” he says. His thumb runs over my knuckles, catching on the shiny new band that adorns my finger.

  “I just want to please you. I want to be a good wife,” I say softly, because the fear of failure is there. The memory of my palm being lashed with the cane every time I had failed before still makes my eyes water. “I want you to grow to love me, Ezra.” I say the words I have silently held in, because if he loves me, it won’t be easy to leave me, or worse.

  “I already love you, Vashti,” he answers me and we share a stolen kiss. It’s sweet and soft and whispers of unspoken promises. Ones that not even the Prophet could tell God. “Let’s go inside.” The car door is held open by Joseph who greets us both with a false smile. I sense he and Ezra have fallen out, but know that it isn’t my place to ask.

  “Congratulations,” he says shaking Ezra’s hand. “I cannot stay, I’m sorry,” he says, his mouth pulled tight with anger and frustration.

  “Why? What’s wrong?’ Ezra asks his friend with genuine concern.

  “Because someone has stolen my wife and I need to find her before my father does to her what you did to Naomi.” Joseph’s voice is a deep growl; it rumbles from him with rage. “Noelle has been taken, Ezra, I don’t expect you to understand, but I expect you to cover for me.” Ezra nods and Joseph jumps into the car we just got out of and speeds off.

  Chapter 13

  Ezra

  The Elders and Deacons of the church line the walls of my bedroom, where the bed is covered in black linens and candles are burning on the end tables. The Prophet stands at the foot of the bed as we wait for Vashti. The women have taken her into the other room to prepare. She didn’t need to prepare; she was so beautiful in her dress, the black made her soft milky skin glow and her dark lips tempted my mind into sin every time I saw them.

  Surrounded by men who have known me all my life, I remove my wedding suit and hat, folding them and putting them on a chair. Naked, with nothing to hide from them or God, exposed as they try not to look at me. My father however looks me dead in the eye, a threat, an unspoken instruction not to fail now. I close my eyes and think of her, because the room full of men has my penis soft and shriveled more than a swim in the winter pond. Turning so that I’m angled away from their beady eyes, I grab myself, pull and tug like Dinah did, while I think of Vashti’s dark red lips, and slowly I harden just imagining the feel of her softness. The door creaks open and the talking dies to a few hushed whispers as my bride is led inside. She is naked beneath the sheer black robe that covers her, I see their perverted old eyes on her. There are only a few beautiful women of marrying age in our community and they are all jealous of what I have. I can sense the green mist of envy filling up the room. I have a young beautiful woman to take to my bed, when many of them are joined to cousins or women who aren’t pleasing to look at. God has blessed me, and I will not be ungrateful like them and covet what isn’t mine, I trust God has given me what I need.

  The robe is taken from her as she stands beside the bed, exposing her to their leering, but also to me. Her small breasts and slim waist, the way her special place is dusted with dark hair hiding it from me. She modestly tries to cover herself with her hands as she gets up onto the bed. Her skin is pure white against the black linen beneath her, her red lips like a bull’s-eye for my attention. She settles in the center of the bed, and looks at me, I can see her chest rise and fall with nervous breaths as she begs me to save her without a word. I no longer need my hand to find the desire needed to perform this task, just looking at her laid out for me is enough. Hushed whispers and movement around the room draw my attention from her to my father’s scowl. I climb on the bed, pull her legs open, exposing that glistening pink slit to me. As I take in every part of her beauty the Prophet begins to talk behind me.

  “That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh before God and his witnesses.” He speaks and his voice rattles my core. “May your fountain be blessed, and may you rejoice in the wife of your youth. A loving doe, a graceful deer — may her breasts satisfy you always, may you be intoxicated with her love.” I’m intoxicated with Vashti, I have been since the moment I saw her, I hunted her like a deer, sought her out and now I will make her mine for all eternity.

  “All of God’s men, we are here to witness that Ezra is right with God and properly joined to his wife Vashti.”

  The room goes quiet knowing that it is time, I see her tears sliding slowly like tortured rivers down her cheeks and yet to me she is still beautiful. Leaning over her, I place my hardness at her opening, waiting for the Prophet to speak.

  “Let that which God has joined never be separated.” I push into her quickly without hesitation or care for her pain. She cries out and I feel her fingernails digging into my flesh as she tries to force me off. “Do not withhold good from those whom it is due, Vashti,” he says reprimanding her. “When it is in your power to do it, you must.” She stills beneath me as I thrust into her over and over, her cries only making me harder, her red lips enticing me with carnal desire. I dare not stop, I will not show weakness. I will take the good that is due to me, because God has given it. They will not leave us be until they know I have planted my seed inside her and not wasted it, she can only be mine if I have done that.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. My white hot semen spilling deep inside her, marking her as mine forever. Vashti is my eternal partner, my wife and my lover. I pray I deserve this gift that God has given me. I hear their feet shuffling out of the room, murmuring under their breaths and whispering about us. About my wife and her spilled tears. The door clicks closed as the Prophet leaves. I don’t look up to see them going, I just look into her eyes and pray she forgives me for being so rough with her virtue. The house will be closed and we will not be able escape one another for the next seven days, an angry wife will make it a very long week.

  We must bathe, and there will be no prayers tonight as we are both unclean, I climb off her after the house is completely quiet and she slides herself up against the headboard. Her face is stained with tears and her chest rattles with each breath she takes, trying to hold down the cries desperate to escape her. “It hurt,” she blurts out, as she tries to cover herself from my sight.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I thought it wouldn’t hurt, because of before. Of what the Prophet did. Why did it hurt me? Am I damaged?” she sobs. “I’m sorry, I let you down. I tried so hard, but it hurt me.” She thinks that she failed me, covering her face she cries into her hands.

  “You didn’t let me down, Vashti, it’s meant to hurt.” I reach for her, taking her hands and uncovering her face so that she can see my sincerity. “I’m sorry, I never wanted to hurt you. I had to do it, I promise it won’t always hurt.”

  “I don’t think I can do it again; what if I fail to please you, Ezra? What will happen if I am a terrible wife?”

  “You won’t be a terrible wife, Vashti, God wouldn’t send me two.” Pulling her so she can sit in my lap I cradle her against my naked chest, our hearts beat as one. I hold her until we both breathe easier and she is no longer stiff and fearful of my touch. “I love you, Vashti,” I say, kissing the top of her head, but she doesn’t say it back.

  Not yet.

  The End

  Author’s Note

  Want to know more?

  Where is Joseph going and what will happen to his wife Noelle?

  SayYes is part of the CULTured series, you can read more in A Lump of Coal for Christmas

  If your curiosity still isn’t satisfied, you can join my Hostage Situation to find out when the next book will be released.

  Join Ashleigh’s Hostage Situation Group

  About Ashleigh Giannoccaro

  Ashleigh lives in sunny South Africa with her husband, child
ren and pet meerkat Porky. She writes dark and twisted romances that will have you swooning over the villain in no time. When she’s not writing, she can be found traveling the country or with her nose in a book traveling to magical places no one has been.

  Check out Ashleigh’s Website

  Also by Ashleigh

  Cirque Act 1

  If no one loves the clown. Then I will make you no one.

  Cut & Blow Book 1

  There’s only one place to shampoo your dirty mob money.

  Written In Flames

  Broken people shouldn’t play with matches.

  For more books by Ashleigh, check out her website!

  I’m Better Than You

  By SJ Cole

  Death becomes them.

  One, step. Two. Watch that shoe.

  Three steps, four, open her door.

  Five then six, look at that bitch.

  Seven and eight, I’ll tell her it’s fate.

  Nine, ten… “I’m better for him."