Cara's misery by Kat! A hand clamped over my mouth with terrifying suddenness. Even as I tried to pull away, the man's other hand pinned my arms to my sides. Other hands, unkind and rushed, lifted me bodily from the sidewalk. The crowd waiting at the bus stop edged away. The unclean wanted no part of it. I twisted and turned madly, desperately fighting their control as they walked me toward the curb. I kicked one foot free of their grasp and lashed out. My sneaker caught one of them across the jaw. The circle of their dark suits parted and I saw a black limousine pull closer. "No!" I shrieked, my voice muffled to a shrill grunt. "Quiet, woman," the man behind me whispered fiercely. "It is only your disobedience that--" His voice became a string of curses as I bit him. Acrid blood spilled into my mouth. I arched my back. The hand fell away. My upper body dangled above the hot sidewalk, my unbound hair in danger of being stepped on. "Please!" I begged, "Don't let them take me away!" As I was scooped up, a lone youth stepped to my defense, only to be defeated by the closest of my attackers. The bloodied hand found my mouth again and I knew with a sinking certainty that my new life had come to an end. The middle door of the stretched limousine was thrown open by one my disheveled assailants and I was unceremoniously tossed in. I lifted myself onto an elbow and wiped my mouth against my sleeve. The door slammed like the lid of a coffin. _Think Cara: what are your options?_ But the limousine was not empty. Just inches from my face were a pair of men's shoes that were shined so brightly that I could see myself dimly reflected in the polished leather. Dry mouthed and dizzy from the sudden acceleration, my eyes crawled slowly upward, past the conservatively tailored suit, until the face swam into focus. And any protest I might have voiced died in my throat. It was my father who had come to claim me. Instantly, I ducked my head and wished that I was veiled. "My father," I murmured in an appropriately submissive tone. "You will begin by telling me who in the household staff assisted your escape." He overrode my weak objection. "There is no way you could have fled the estate on foot, created a new identity for yourself or obtained the unclean clothes you're wearing." I hesitated and that was the wrong thing to do. He grabbed my left arm and jerked me close to his face. His face darkened with anger. "Cara, do not compound your punishment by lying. There are ways of punishing you that will not mark you," my father told me as his hand tightened around my arm. "If you do not reveal this man's identity I will force you to watch as I have every member of the staff executed and their blood will be on your hands!" I gulped for air. Responsible for the lives of the people who's only fault was that they had served my family's household for generations? I moaned and he shook me. "Choose...one life or 67!" I closed my eyes, tears escaping from behind my lids. "Your valet, Stephen," I whispered. He threw me to the floor in a violent motion. I stayed where I sprawled, prostrating myself for his forgiveness. My father reached for the telephone and dialed a quick number. "Execute him, my son," he said, his voice rich with satisfaction. I slumped bonelessly, pressing my cheek against the rich carpeting. A kind man had tried to help me to escape the cloistered hell that the women of the Aaronite Tribe had endured for more than a hundred generations and his only reward was a bullet in the head. If he was lucky. All too soon, the limousine pulled into the family's private drive, past the guard houses, which stood like menacing sentinels guarding a sacred path, and up to the main house. The door was opened and my father hustled me up the steps and past the blood-stained marble that marked the execution site. I averted my eyes as I stumbled past. Was this to be my fate as well? My father did not release me even after we had entered the house. Furious, he dragged me past startled servants and into his private study. A man stood facing the cold fireplace, his hands braced against the wooden mantle. My father threw me at his feet. "She is yours if you still desire her," he told the man. I managed not to cower, not even hiding my face behind my waist-length hair. "I thank you for returning the girl to me, Kohain Tzeh-deck [righteous priest]. Once she is properly attired, we may begin the ceremony." The trembling began in the pit of my stomach and spread outward until I was shaking violently. My father had spoken of punishment, but what could be worse than marriage? "Have her prepared," my father told him. Daniel jerked me to my feet and dragged me away. I was sure to be bruised tomorrow. As we hurried down the main corridor, I stifled my protests and concentrated on keeping up with my father's heir. He was very much a reflection of my father. So full of energy. So full of righteous anger. So full of empty traditions. From the main corridor, we turned into an area that was forbidden to the women and staff. I was soon lost in the twisting maze of hallways. We plunged down a flight of stairs leading into the bowels of the estate. The space was lit only by brands that had been placed at regular intervals. It was like stepping backwards in time. At the end of this corridor was a huge wooden door, guarded by two men armed with big guns on shoulder straps. Daniel moved imperiously forward, ignoring my attempts to hide myself behind him. "The temple will be prepared," he told them. "The ritual begins within the hour." The guard on the right gave a slight bow and the massive doors swung inward into a small antechamber. Another massive door was set opposite the first. Daniel pushed me through a door to the left. The small, candle lit room was dominated by a sunken tub filling with a milky fragrant water. "I will give you a few moments to get into the water before I return to do the blessing," he told me sternly. Before he could turn away, I touched his arm. "Daniel, I can't go through with this. It's not right." He shook off my hand, his eyes dark with betrayal. I could almost hear the thought as he pulled away. Another bad habit that I would have to be broken of. "You will be given to the Lord Joshua as should have been done six days ago. From this day on, you belong only to him." "I am not a possession to be sold at will!" I spat, seething at his attitude. Part of me stood back and watched this spectacle. Why had I never noticed his overbearing attitude before? Daniel's eyes blazed and I involuntarily retreated, for he might not have my father's permission to beat me, but my eldest brother was not known for his self-restraint. "Just because you spent time among the unclean does not mean you understand the danger you were in!" he ground out. "Within the family compound, you were safe from the insanity of their world...the raping, the murders, the poverty..." "In exchange for being a slave," I bit out. "In exchange for being honored as the nurturing vessel of the life that sustains our tribe in it's exile!" Daniel countered. I would have answered back, but he ended the argument in typical Aaronite fashion, "Enough! You are a woman: your place is to obey!" With that he stalked out. Instantly, I was at the door. Locked. I put my back to the door and watched the tub fill. This is what my life will be like, I thought sadly. Ordered around by a man who knows nothing of passion and everything about the traditions that have stifled the growth of my people. The bath was ready. I turned off the taps and reluctantly shed the clothing that Stephen had gifted me. The jeans had a roughness that I had found uncomfortable, even with the panties that Stephen had given me when I had confessed my discomfort. Yet, there had been something deliciously sinful in the way that the jeans had sheathed my lower body in a forbidden embrace. Likewise, I would miss the cool cotton t-shirt--so different from the silks that had enveloped me. They seemed so loose that I might have walked right out of it, had it not been firmly anchored at my waist by the jeans. With a final caress, I mounted the three steps and slid into the tub. And then it hit me: I would never see Stephen or my new friends ever again. I buried my face in my hands and wept. Stephen, gone as if he'd never been born. He'd been so good to me -- never asking for anything in return for his assistance. Even during those panicked first few hours of freedom, when I'd begged him to bring me home, he'd held me like a frightened child and soothed away the terror. And now his only legacy was my memories. Daniel entered. I slid deeper into the water to cover myself and stifled my tears. He was dressed in dark robes with odd designs on them. He mounted the steps with a quiet dignity and stood over me, chanting in a low voice that should have frightened me. But the half-understood words -- so different from, yet so similar to, the ceremonial Hebrew I was used to -- soothed me and I found myself listening to the musical rise and fall of his voice. The last note rang out against the marble, vibrating the air. Daniel knelt and presented a cup to me. "Drink this," he ordered. I took the cup automatically, but I did not lift it to my lips. "It's wine, Cara," Daniel said impatiently, losing the edge of the mysticism that had cloaked him in otherworldness. I held his eyes a moment longer. I had no illusions. The wine was drugged to keep me from 'disgracing' our father more than I had already. I gulped the tart liquid down. Maybe it would numb me for what was about to take place. "Now, dress," Daniel ordered. "I will wait to conduct you to the temple." I waited until he left before slipping out of the water. As I dried myself, I looked over the clothing he had left me. Gauzy and semi-transparent, they would barely cover my nakedness with a blush of color. Even the veil would show through. I began to feel light-headed and calmer. No doubt my empty stomach was speeding the effects of the drugs Daniel had given me. I dressed, doubling the bodice and skirt materials in the hopes of decreasing their transparency. With a final adjustment to the veil covering my hair and face, I joined Daniel in the antechamber. His eyes widened as I approached on unsteady feet and he held out his arm to support me. I took hold of it gratefully. I even managed a smile for him. He led me to the double doors opposite the entrance. The drugs began to wrap a comforting, numbing blanket around me. I could hardly feel the cold marble beneath my bare feet. Daniel rapped his knuckles against the wooden door. Before the echoes had died away, the doors swung open, revealing the inner temple. My brother pulled me forward. I wanted to resist, but my body had no will of its own. It should have bothered me, I know, but for the moment I was beyond fear. After my eyes had adjusted to the dimness within, I began to take in the strange environment. An alter dominated the chamber, its alternating black and white stone squares glinting in the candle light. Four waist-height candle stands ringed the alter. Red, blue, yellow and black candles, one for each corner of the temple. The stones along the bottom of the room had a different sheen to them...weathered and ancient-looking. I blinked. When the Romans had sundered the second Temple and scattered the tribes of Israel, it was said that the priests of the Tribe of Aaron had salvaged sacred stones from the rubble to be used to build the Third Temple. The part of me that was not muddled by the drugs wondered, could it be? Could this be the sacred ground of the Covenant? Between the alter and the candles, a dozen men stood silently watched our approach. But I only had eyes for one. Standing behind the alter, candle light hallowing his grizzled head, the High Priest was arranging objects on one side of the alter. The primary duty of the High Priest was to preside over the ritual sacrifice. Should I be frightened? Shouldn't I? But the entire scene was too dreamlike for me to think clearly. The High Priest's eyes seemed to draw me closer to him and I drifted to him effortlessly. I knelt at his feet and touched the hem of his dark robe to my veiled forehead. "Rise, child," he told me gently. "The Test of Chastity begins." I stumbled to my unfeeling feet. My father appeared in front of me and raised my hands above my head. A rope of chain descended and my wrists were buckled into leather cuffs. Then the chain was raised until only my toes touched the floor. The men scattered, filling in the ring begun by the candles. Only the High Priest remained behind the alter. "Hekas," he thundered "Hekas Este Bebeloi!" The sound seemed to echo inside my head. I tried to shake it out, but my upraised arms restricted my movements. From behind me, bells sounded: dingdingding, dingdingdingding, dingdingding. The High Priest moved behind the men, slowly defining the circle. "And when, after all the phantoms have vanished, thou shalt see that holy and formless fire, that fire which darts and flashes through the hidden depths of the universe. Hear thou the voice of Fire!" A growl answered him, from the men or from the space beyond I could not say. "Mee-chai-EL..." "So therefore first, the priest who governeth the works of fire must sprinkle with the lustral water of the loud resounding sea. Hear thou the voice of Water!" An echoing whisper and the sound of rushing water, swiftly gone. "Gahb-ray-EL..." "Such a Fire existeth, extending through the rushing of air. Or even a fire formless, whence cometh the image of a voice. Or even a flashing light, abounding, revolving, whirling forth, crying aloud. Hear thou the voice of Air!" A quiet murmur, breathy and intense. "Rah-fay-EL..." The High Priest passed behind me. "Stoop not down into that dearly splendid world wherein continually lieth a faithless depth and Hades wrapped in gloom, delighting in unintelligible images, precipitous, winding: A black ever-rolling abyss, ever espousing a body unluminous, formless and void. Hear thou the voice of Earth!" A grumbling, crusty sound that seemed to tremble the earth. "Ohr-ree-EL..." The High Priest passed between the men and moved to the center of the circle. His eyes locked with mine for an instant, and I swear I could feel him taking hold of my very soul. "I invoke ye, angles of the celestial spheres, whose dwelling is in the invisible. Ye are the guardians of the gates of the universe. Be ye also the guardians of this mystic sphere. Keep far removed the evil and the unbalanced. Strengthen and inspire us so that we, His chosen few, may preserve unsullied this abode of the mysteries of the eternal One. Let our sphere be pure and holy so that we may enter and partake of the secrets of the Divine." A wave of sound, piercing the darkness. "Ah-men..." Hands began to travel over my body. More followed as the men drifted closer to me. At first I hung limply, feeling them defiling my purity, but not sure if I should stop them. Then one of my breasts were touched and my gown shifted, baring a thigh. No, I am pure! I am not to be touched by any man! I began to struggle, fighting the hands and the drugs that made their actions to erotic. My father and the High Priest watched from a distance, with stony expressions. "Please," I begged. "Make it stop!" I could feel my face begin to flush, but it was not from the embarrassment I knew I should be feeling. No answer. A man came to stand behind me. His hands roughly pulled down my veil and my hair cascaded down my back. I moaned and tried to shake him off. A strange warmth began to form between my legs. The hands moved from my hair to my throat, then to my breasts. He cupped my breasts as I squirmed, lingering over my nipples until they betrayed me and rose to meet his touch. Then they began to travel downward, inching ever so slowly toward my virgin folds. "No! You mustn't!" I cried. In response, the man pressed his full manhood into my back. I panicked, kicking out wildly with my bare feet. The men fell away and I spun around to face my final assaulter. His dark blond head tilted down, just inches from my face. The candlelight made a halo of the lighter strands. His hands began to trace circles around my betraying nipples. I glared at him, anger overriding my fear. "I will have your blood on my hands before I allow you to defile my virginity!" The man smiled, an arrogant sneer that I desperately wished I could beat off his face. He bent his head, lips inches from mine. His lips parted... "Enough!" cried the High Priest. Instantly the chains were lowered and my father freed my hands from the cuffs. Under the man's lustful gaze, my father led me to the alter. I began to tremble as he sat me down amid the candles and sacred objects. But his expression had soften and I took heart from it. With his hand steadying me, I laid back. My legs dangled at the knee. The High Priest stepped forward and led the group in a chant that seemed familiar, almost as if common words were being pronounced differently. My thoughts began to muddle as I tried to translate it into Hebrew. It sounded like the chant I had heard on Daniel's lips. Lips. My defiler had had full, luscious lips. They made me feel tingly. So close to kissing my virgin lips. But it's wrong to desire him...no matter what the Scripture says, I will not desire any man. Suddenly, the High Priest was standing at the head of the alter. The blond man -- Lord Joshua? An Archangel? God Himself? -- stood at my feet. Gently, he placed my feet flat on the alter, my legs bent sharply at the knee, and separated them so that he had easy access to my folds. With hands that caressed my inner thighs, he slowly pushed my gown up and fully exposed me to his hot gaze. I whimpered. Men moved forward and immobilized my limbs. "Have courage, Cara-mia," the man whispered. "Behold," said the High Priest. "God said, 'It is not good for man to be alone. I will make a suitable partner for him.' Out of the dust He created a companion. And Adam saw that this creature was comely and named her Lilith." "But Lilith was free with her favors and would not lie beneath Adam when they coupled. When God rebuked her for her disobedience, she told him, 'I have no need to obey. I am complete unto myself.' God sent her from Eden and the man became lonely. "So, God cast a deep sleep on the man, and while he was asleep, He took out one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh. Then God built up into a woman the rib that he had taken from the man. When He brought her to the man, Adam said: " 'This one, at last, is the bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh. This one shall be called 'woman,' for out of 'her man' this one has been taken.'" A finger moved along my ankle to the inside of my leg. I wanted to squirm away, but hands held me to the alter at the foot, knee, wrist and shoulder. The gentle touch rekindled the heat between my legs as it moved slowly upward. The flush returned, heating and tingling until I could feel my pulse pounding in my face. The High Priest continued, oblivious to my situation. My eyes circled the crowd of men. Every eye was on the High Priest. "The man and his wife were both naked, yet they felt no shame..." No shame, I thought wildly. A man's hand touches me in a forbidden caress and I should have no shame? The finger traced its way to under my knee, igniting the nerves there. Despite my best efforts, I jumped. The men holding me continued to listen intently, oblivious to my distress. Then there were two fingers, one for each inner thigh. I trembled anew, wanting to cry out but something in the man's expression forbade it. And I had no will of my own. "The woman saw that the tree was good for food, pleasing to the eyes, and desirable for gaining wisdom. So she took some of its fruit and ate it..." His fingers converged in my pubic hair and brushed the corners of my clitoris. His head hovered over my forbidden place, his breath hot on my quivering flesh. And still no one noticed. "And Man said, 'This fruit is forbidden; I will not partake of it.' A strange craving overtook the woman and she ate again." I whipped my head around trying to express my anxious denial. Not even I had ever touched my forbidden place. A second before his mouth descended, he reached up and pressed his rough fingers against my lips. Then I was arching my back and fighting the sensations that invaded my body. It was an undescribable agony/pleasure. His tongue danced around, teasing my clitoris erect with feathery, circling licks. Then he pursed his lips and began to suckle like a babe to a breast. I shrieked, torn between the pleasure and and an intense wave of hysterical defilement, and my voice was only partially muffled by his fingers. But my father's gaze suddenly locked with my own and he mouthed, "Obey him!" Betrayal. Even my father was unwilling to protect me after my disgrace. This was my punishment, I thought fiercely, trying to suppress the cry that tore from my lips. No marriage bed awaited me. I was to be some kind of sacrifice in the men's ritual. The tears began again and I made no attempt to silence them. "In the cool of the evening, God walked the garden. Adam hid himself and his wife from His sight. 'Why have you hidden yourself from me?' God asked Adam. And the Man answered, 'I was afraid for the woman you gave me. She has eaten of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil and has a strange fever.'" Waves of pleasure began to build, centering around my forbidden place. The man's other hand moved from the outside of my left hip to my labia. I froze, barely breathing. The finger penetrated the outer lips, then the inner lips... Despite the saliva and my juices, his finger burned with a coldness that punched through the numbness, through the pleasure and stopped the heated vibrations that had begun to cascade outward. I curled my toes around the edge of the alter, trying to block out the pain. " 'Then I must leave with her,' Adam said, 'for you have charged me with her protection.' God warned the man that if he left with the woman, the earth would be turned against him..." My awareness tunneled down to my vagina. The finger began to move in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue. The hand on my mouth moved down to my right breast. His palm traced a tight circle around my nipple and then without warning, he began to pull and twist it painfully. In that instance, another finger joined the first, but the pain in my breast dimmed the agony in my vagina. I tossed my head around feverishly. "Please, I am a virgin...the consecrated daughter of a priest. I am not to be used in such a manner," I murmured. The High Priest laid a calming hand on my forehead. "It is time," he said. The fingers withdrew, leaving behind a stretchy ache that seemed to pierce my very center. The tongue gave one last lick and was gone. The man straightened and took up the chant, his voice light and erotic. "Eve accepted her punishment for disobedience, knowing that her sin had been grievous. She prostrated herself before the King of the Universe as he handed down his sentence on her and all women: "God said, 'Because woman has eaten of the forbidden fruit, she is now aware of her incompleteness. In her need for her greater half, she is given to indiscretion. She must be protected for her own good and for the good of the nations.'" "So, God caused a fold of skin to cover the gateway of her chastity, and when broken, it would bear evidence of her transgression. 'From this day forward, you shall have a lord to rule over you and keep you from further temptations. I will greatly increase your pain in childbirth, but you will be the vessel from which an entire race will be born.' And they departed from Eden. A guardian with a fiery sword kept watch over them." The High Priest cupped my head in his hands and talked directly to me. "A woman must be opened for her to have relations with her husband and bear children." My heart hammered. Could it be? Was this some type of marriage ritual after all? The High Priest lifted an unlit candle from the alter and handed it to my father. Then a blessing was pronounced over its waxy, white form, and my father brought it to the man who could only be Lord Joshua. My lord look the candle and held it in front of him. "Ain Soph, He Who Cannot Be Named, we ask that you consecrate this instrument of Your sacrifice so that Your promise may be fulfilled." One hand on my damp clitoris, my lord gently inserted the candle into my aching center. I expected pain, but the shallow advance-retreat seemed to only touch my already stretched folds. It went fractionally deeper and I wished it was his mouth that was covering me. The stroking of his fingers frenzied and I could not help but cry out. The heat peaked into a spasm of heated pleasure and the candle tore through my barrier at that moment. My lord withdrew it and I could see that it was smeared with my own blood. He set it into a waiting candlestick holder. My father and the High Priest, one to each side, helped me down from from the alter. My father led me to a spot in front of the alter and helped me kneel. My pierced center throbbed. I could feel my blood spilling down my legs, there to drip to the floor. My lord stood beside me, the lit candle in his hand. The wick sputtered as the flame caught. "Joshua of the Aaronites, my son and heir, do you accept the gift of purity this woman has given you?" "I do." "Do you swear to protect her from all harm and temptations?" "I do." "Will you honor her as the vessel that nurtures your seed?" "All this I swear," my lord's rich voice seemed to ring off the stone around us. The High Priest turned to me. "Cara, you have witnessed your lord's oath and are now bound to him. Your place is to obey." I touched my forehead to the ground in acceptance and wondered at the strange desire my lord had kindled within me.