Page 79
Story: Bloodmoon Ritual
Chapter 16
There was no rest thatweek for our Congregation as they prepared for holy war, other Prophets and Enforcers visiting in a steady rumble of noisy motorcycles.
William appeared several other times, too, as our Prophet ordered the drones to Ronan’s Congregation over and over, first sending more loads of rocks to dam up their rivers in an attempt to disrupt and flood their lands.
“He can send his men to shoot them down,” the Prophet said, exultant triumph in his voice. “But he doesn’t know how they work. There will soon be enough stone and debris to dam up their river completely. We will strike after the Bloodmoon. The Allfather has shown me that is a good time.”
My brother was full of confidence even though he had not killed Ronan.
“He went for thedoor,” he laughed as I prepared supper. “Trying to run away from me. He will fall fast and soon we will have a new home in the Garden lands.”
Since dragging me back home, Rhyder had barely let me have a moment away. While most men would clean their weapons or work with tools outside, Rhyder had piled a particularly smelly motorcycle part on the kitchen table because he couldn’t bear to be away from me.
I stirred stew on the stove. Craig had had a very particular gym bro type of diet, and looked at the simple stews and meals I knew how to cook with palpable disgust.
Not my brother.
His fingers were streaked with motor oil, and the thick bands of muscle rippled in his arm, straining against his T-shirt as he looked over at me.
“Your stew smells amazing.”
I looked down at what I had always thought of as Desperation Stew. End of the winter storehouse frozen root vegetables and broth stock, but it did have some savory bird that my brother had shot last night.
“He went for his Helpmeet,” I said, feeling a little trickle of anxiety.
“I didn’t see a woman there,” Rhyder said.
“You never do,” I retorted sourly, but with a little bloom of heat in my chest, and then it was forgotten as my brother got up from the table and loomed over me, grabbing my chin with dirty fingers and kissing me.
And so when it came time for my Spiritual Guidance I wasn’t prepared for the danger.
The entire Congregation was gathered in the center of camp, waiting in respectful rows for each Head of Household to report the guidance for the week and punish any further infractions.
My hips ached from standing so still during the lengthy rote recitations of punishments given to Helpmeets, the sins they had allegedly committed.
Slothful
Foolish
Quarrelsome
Envy
Such a poor mouth-fucking that Brother Paul had to go find a camp whore for a better one
For this crime, Brother Paul’s Helpmeet was cut, little sharp slices all around her mouth, to encourage her to open wider next time.
I looked over at Norah and Elizabeth, standing dully at the edge of the crowd.
At least William wasn’t here to see if she was punished. It had become increasingly painful to me to see Norah’s mental and physical deterioration. I tried to sneak little bits of extra food and drink to the two of them, but it was so difficult. Aunt Piety watched them with eagle eyes, and since they were the only two available camp whores after the devastation of the attacks, there was always someone who wanted the use of their bodies.
My own cunt was sore, but because of my brother’s protection I was healthy.
I was snapped out of my musing by Eli’s voice.
There was no rest thatweek for our Congregation as they prepared for holy war, other Prophets and Enforcers visiting in a steady rumble of noisy motorcycles.
William appeared several other times, too, as our Prophet ordered the drones to Ronan’s Congregation over and over, first sending more loads of rocks to dam up their rivers in an attempt to disrupt and flood their lands.
“He can send his men to shoot them down,” the Prophet said, exultant triumph in his voice. “But he doesn’t know how they work. There will soon be enough stone and debris to dam up their river completely. We will strike after the Bloodmoon. The Allfather has shown me that is a good time.”
My brother was full of confidence even though he had not killed Ronan.
“He went for thedoor,” he laughed as I prepared supper. “Trying to run away from me. He will fall fast and soon we will have a new home in the Garden lands.”
Since dragging me back home, Rhyder had barely let me have a moment away. While most men would clean their weapons or work with tools outside, Rhyder had piled a particularly smelly motorcycle part on the kitchen table because he couldn’t bear to be away from me.
I stirred stew on the stove. Craig had had a very particular gym bro type of diet, and looked at the simple stews and meals I knew how to cook with palpable disgust.
Not my brother.
His fingers were streaked with motor oil, and the thick bands of muscle rippled in his arm, straining against his T-shirt as he looked over at me.
“Your stew smells amazing.”
I looked down at what I had always thought of as Desperation Stew. End of the winter storehouse frozen root vegetables and broth stock, but it did have some savory bird that my brother had shot last night.
“He went for his Helpmeet,” I said, feeling a little trickle of anxiety.
“I didn’t see a woman there,” Rhyder said.
“You never do,” I retorted sourly, but with a little bloom of heat in my chest, and then it was forgotten as my brother got up from the table and loomed over me, grabbing my chin with dirty fingers and kissing me.
And so when it came time for my Spiritual Guidance I wasn’t prepared for the danger.
The entire Congregation was gathered in the center of camp, waiting in respectful rows for each Head of Household to report the guidance for the week and punish any further infractions.
My hips ached from standing so still during the lengthy rote recitations of punishments given to Helpmeets, the sins they had allegedly committed.
Slothful
Foolish
Quarrelsome
Envy
Such a poor mouth-fucking that Brother Paul had to go find a camp whore for a better one
For this crime, Brother Paul’s Helpmeet was cut, little sharp slices all around her mouth, to encourage her to open wider next time.
I looked over at Norah and Elizabeth, standing dully at the edge of the crowd.
At least William wasn’t here to see if she was punished. It had become increasingly painful to me to see Norah’s mental and physical deterioration. I tried to sneak little bits of extra food and drink to the two of them, but it was so difficult. Aunt Piety watched them with eagle eyes, and since they were the only two available camp whores after the devastation of the attacks, there was always someone who wanted the use of their bodies.
My own cunt was sore, but because of my brother’s protection I was healthy.
I was snapped out of my musing by Eli’s voice.
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