Dark Bride
Deanna looked more stunning than ever as She entered the main chamber of the underground cathedral. Around the walls, dripping candles of an unidentified color filled the air with remnants or arcane magic. The leather and latex dark bride outfit was a long-lasting tradition in The Order, and she wore it with pride. Dressed in ceremonial red and white robes with golden and silver complex embroideries denoting their years of commitment to the cause, all the other women present silently expressed their approval, and so did the dehumanized pets snuggling at their feet.
According to protocol, Alan was already kneeling in front of the High Priestess, completely disrobed, when his Owner-to-be stopped next to him, never looking down. It was the last day the blonde basketball player would recognize his birth name. Sacrifice and rebirth went hand in hand when the mysteries of old called to him. His mouth was slightly agape, in awe before the embodiment of feminine splendor he loved more than anything.
Then, the Priestess, a silver-haired woman in her mid-seventies that didn’t look a day older than thirty, raised her hands to the congregation and spoke:
“Sisters of The Order, We are gathered here today to celebrate the eternal bond of control between one of Our superior kind and the inferior creature She has chosen to break to Her will by the power of The Underworld Goddess. Her Control already runs through his powerless veins, but confirmation is required. This ceremony symbolizes just that – everlasting dominance and everlasting surrender – and so I’ll be brief…
“Sister Deanna, is this truly the one You desire to serve You in any way You wish for as long as you both shall live?”
“Yes, High Priestess.” Deanna smiled, wickedly. “But of course, and according to The Sacred Rules, My mindless servant will be available to any of the other Sisters whenever required as long as The Exchange procedures are carried out, accordingly.”
The older woman clapped once and nodded.
“And you, human piece of property, do you acknowledge before everyone in this room and The Goddess Herself that Sister Deanna is Your One True Mistress and that you will slavishly obey all commands given, never faltering, never trying to escape Her rightful justice or wrath?”
“Yes, I do. I live to serve. Deanna is everything and I am nothing without Her.” Alan replied without much of a thought, using the same meek mantra that had been forever imprinted in his mind by The Order’s otherworldly hexes.
“Perfect!” The High Priestess clapped once more, radiant sparks exploding from the top of her long fingers like fireworks. “Sister Deanna, Your possession of this drone is hereby confirmed, and the connection you now share is unbreakable! Do as You please with it, but I hope You’ll be so kind to provide Us with some voyeuristic delights before You leave us tonight to return to Your chambers.”
“Naturally, High Priestess.” She agreed. “All Sisters deserve entertainment, and I’m happy to provide them the lustful satisfaction They are eager to witness. Slave, you will now worship My divine shoes and legs until instructed otherwise. I don’t want to hear a single word from your lips, or even a fleeting moan. You have no need for sounds, an articulate voice is completely wasted on you. Be the chattel you’ve been taught to be and show everyone here why you’ll never be anything else than that. Obey!”
All orders are final, every piece of property recognizes that. The thing formerly known as Alan dropped to its fours and allowed its thirsty tongue to savor Her divinity. Everything was perfect.
