The temple room was surprisingly simple, in comparison to the others. There were no gilt adornments on the walls, no altars of gold and platinum, no shelves filled with tithes of precious jewels. The only thing this room held was a plain, marble floor in the center of which lay a sunken tub. The water bubbled and frothed appealingly, steam rising at it hit the cool air. Beside the tub was a plain, wooden table holding various oils in simple clay pots, among other things he couldn’t really make out from so far away. There was a single, marble statue of Diana against the northern wall to match the marble floors.
Nick looked around the nearly empty room, and then at the silent young priestess beside him and entered. Gil had scheduled the ceremony for a week before their departure, six weeks after his shooting and a week after his physical therapist had determined that he was up for ‘that kind of exertion.’ He still blushed, knowing that others knew what they were going to do, but it didn’t make him want to call it off. Just knowing that they would be officially Blessed released a tension that Nick tried to hide as best he could.
It still surprised him, how much faith he had in a set of Gods who were, at their best, described as aloof and uncaring, almost to a one. And that was by their faithful, not the Christians who were still pissed off by the killing of the Son of their supposed God. Despite the fear-based religions, Nick had a special place in his heart for Diana and it made him hopeful that, perhaps, she didn’t bear he and Gil any ill will, despite their mortal souls.
“Are you ready?”
She smiled and motioned him towards the tub. “You must cleanse yourself, inside and out, in preparation for your Devotion. Everything you need, you will find here on the table. The tub’s circulation system is extremely fast, so don’t worry about any waste that you expel, it will be gone almost faster than you can blink.”
“Um, okay,” Nick agreed, looking at the table. There was an enema kit, which he winced at, soap, and massage oils. “How do I get the massage oil, um, all over?”
As impersonal as a doctor, she explained, “Once you’re done cleaning yourself, just tug that cord and I or one of my Sisters will come and assist you in the final preparations.”
Nick waited until she was gone, the door closed behind her, then sighed and muttered, “Enema, huh? My fave. Not.”
But he picked up the kit and proceeded to work the tubes and solutions that would cleanse inside him as surely as the hot water would his skin. He flushed a little as he noticed the shaving apparatus, knowing that he was required to shave as much from himself as he could. He’d been waxed the day before, but just hadn’t been able to bring himself to do that to his balls. It had been bad enough, getting his armpits done. How the women did it, Nick hadn’t a clue. Since Gil hadn’t required it, he’d figured on shaving himself there instead.
Not that putting a sharp razor on his balls was anything more to look forward to.
The stipulated five minutes done, Nick hurried to the tub and hissed as the hot water scalded into his legs. Unable to hold it any longer, Nick let go, groaning when it seemed like his entire intestinal tract was being expelled. Which was, of course, the entire point. He was to be as clean as he possibly could to receive his Master’s essence, a sign of his devotion to the coming union.
That unpleasant business taken care of, and Nick watched to make sure the filth was washed away first, he sank into the heat of the tub and relaxed for a few minutes. Not too long, because he only had a limited amount of time to complete his preparations. Next came the shaving, with a lot of held breath and nervous fingers as the blade curved around his scrotum and shaved the hair along the crease of thighs and groin. That was finally finished and Nick again sank into the tub, feeling very strangely nude.
The last part was a lot more calming, soaping up and washing himself down in the hot water and then just relaxing into the water in a kind of meditation. He thought about all the chaos in his life since becoming Gil’s slave, the love and need of which he’d never even suspected himself capable. He remembered the feel of being Claimed and the times he’d been so tenderly loved that tears had escaped. He forced himself to think of the mind-numbing fear when he hadn’t known if Gil would survive the surgery and the uncertainty when he’d first been bought by a man he’d never before seen.
It was difficult to believe that it had only been less than three months since his purchase, sometimes feeling as if an entire year had been packed into that time, maybe even a lifetime.
A gentle bell signaled his time was nearing an end and Nick sighed deeply, drawing himself up, out of the meditation. Taking one last dunk, he stayed under as long as he could, until his lungs were fit to burst for air, then burst out of the water, gasping for air. Climbing out of the tub, he crossed the room and tugged on the silken cord that hung from the ceiling and waited for the priestess, or her equivalent, to return.
* * * *
Gil’s preparations were similar to Nick’s, up to and including the enema. The only part he lacked was the denuding of hair on his body. There was no real reason given for this, just that it was tradition. The main difference were the incantations spoken over them by the priestesses during the end of the preparation rituals. Once he was clean, massaged with the Blessed oils, as well as adorned in engraved, silver cuffs on his biceps, dressed only in a white silk kilt of sorts that only went mid-thigh, Gil followed the priestess from his preparation room.
They walked through the quiet Temple to the Devotion Chapel. Nick was already there, completely naked and gleaming with oil. Gil’s cock stirred to life at the sight and he smiled briefly, encouraging, when Nick shyly met his gaze. There was no hiding his need for his slave, and that wasn’t the point anyhow. They were here to declare an unbreakable bond, a mutual need, to bring their souls officially together the way their bodies already were on a regular basis.
To declare before all that Nick was his favored slave, the only one to whom he would cleave for the rest of his life.
They both walked forward, meeting in the center of the room by and older woman in High Priestess robes of deep blue and silver, colors of the night sky and moon, of which Diana held reign. Beside her was a small altar, draped in silk and silver, it was over that which Gil would Claim Nick. Upon it at the moment, was a pair of silver, decorative cuffs and chains. The rest of the Devotion Chapel was simply decorated with images and engravings of lovers, Masters and Slaves, and wedded couples.
“We come here today for a Union of soul and body, in the traditions passed down through the ages, from our ancestors,” a priestess intoned. “Master, will you take this slave as yours, protecting and cherishing and guiding him for the rest of your lives?”
Wishing it was time to look into Nick’s eyes so that his slave could see just how sure he was of this, Gil answered without hesitation, “I will.”
“And do you accept his Mastery over every part of your life and soul, obeying his orders and acquiescing to his will for the rest of your lives?”
“I will,” Nick agreed, also without hesitation.
“Then, Master, bind your slave to you.”
Gil took the cuffs and gently encircled Nick’s wrists with them, locking them into place. Nick shivered, gooseflesh breaking out all over his bare skin.
“Claim him, Master, so that all may know to whom he belongs.”
Touching his finger to Nick’s chin, he lifted his slave’s face so that he could kiss Nick, devouring him gently, but thoroughly. Nick whimpered and fell against him, hands gripping Gil’s waist as his mouth opened to the endless kiss. He felt Nick’s cock harden further against his thigh and grinned, pulling back a little to murmur, “Soon enough, my love.”
The difference in this Claiming from all the others was the Blessed oil used to cleanse them both. It would keep this a joining free from pain, for the most part, and protect Nick from being hurt unnecessarily. This was about them becoming one and, while some pain was a given, it was meant to soothe and unite the souls and bodies.
Wrapping his hand around Nick’s cock, Gil stroked it, slow and hard, just the way he knew Nick liked it. Nick’s hands gripped him tighter, nails digging in as he tried to keep himself upright. Seizing his mouth again, this time in a hard, demanding kiss, Gil walked him backwards until his slave was leaning on the altar for balance. Though he didn’t want to let go the connection, Gil ached to be buried inside Nick, bringing them both to their fullest pleasure.
Pulling back, panting, he grinned fiercely at the dazed expression on Nick’s face. Nuzzling at the side of his throat, Gil bit it sharply and said, “That’s my good boy, Nicky, so open and ready for me any time, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Master, please!” Nick gasped, arching into the contact.
Gil spun him in place and bent him over, roughly massaging the slick ass and rubbing up and down against it. Nick moaned, his legs spreading wider, and Gil knew he couldn’t wait any longer. Lining himself up, he pushed in slowly, breaching the tight sleeve of flesh that only he knew so intimately. Gil didn’t stop until he was all the way in, balls hanging tight to Nick’s ass. “You feel so good, Nicky, so perfect.”
Nick gasped, his ass clenching in response to the words. Hissing at the provocative action, lust and need surging, Gil pressed the gentlest kiss to the top of Nick’s spine and began moving. He knew that he wasn’t going to last, couldn’t stop himself from the hard, fast rhythm immediately begun. Something was driving him to get as deep into Nick as he could and he did his best to comply.
Hands gripped Nick’s hips with bruising force, pinning him in place as Gil humped almost savagely into him. Nick cried out continuously in pleasure, trying to push back to meet his Master’s thrusts, but held down so that he could only accept them. One of Gil’s arms slid around Nick’s chest and pulled him upright, forcing him deeper on the shaft claiming his flesh.
“Come, my slave, come for me Nicky!” Gil gasped, feeling his own orgasm fast approaching.
Nick’s shout of, “Master!” echoed through the chamber as he came, spilling all over the silk and himself. The love and need in his voice sent Gil over the edge just as surely as the way his body clamped down on Gil’s cock. On one final thrust inside, Gil came, filling Nick copiously even as an explosion of color blinded him and stopped his heart.
They collapsed forward, fortunately, and were caught by the altar, instead of dropping to the floor in an ignominious heap. Gil felt the warmth of something more than their joining pass through him and smiled weakly. Kissing Nick’s shoulder blade, about the only thing he could reach without moving, Gil murmured, “I love you Nicky.”
Nick sighed deeply and replied sleepily, “Love you too, Master.”
Though he wouldn’t have minded staying right where they were for a lot longer, Gil’s legs were starting to cramp and he couldn’t imagine Nick was in much better shape. With a soft sigh of regret, Gil gently withdrew from Nick, ignoring the wordless protest. He found no blood, either on his spent cock or on Nick, and smiled, knowing the oils had done their job. He tugged Nick upright, putting the chained wrists over his head so that Nicky was more comfortable as well as leaning on him.
Smiling beatifically, the Priestess said, “I have only rarely seen such a true Union, Master Grissom. You are, indeed, Blessed.”
Gil kissed Nick’s temple and replied simply, “Yes, I am.”