The Nude Ritual: 'Cleansing' the Demon Out of the Cult Girl
I was petrified.
I'd just turned 18 a few days ago, and it was my turn to undergo the 'cleansing' ritual for all newly young adult women going out into the 'new world'. The high priest of our community of New Haven had everything prepared for this night's events, where my energies were to be harvested and realigned under the height of the full moon. According to our bible, a woman possesses a dormant demon inside her that must be excised before she can graduate into life outside of our safe little community. While I'd heard of the stories from other women in New Haven who had been placed through the ritual themselves, it was still something heavily cloaked in mystery and ambiguity. I was scared and anxious in the weeks, days and hours leading up to my fated event of 'womanhood.'
Now, I stood there in the clearing under the full moon, wearing nothing but a white cloak that had been handed to me back at our little village. We were deep in the woods, and the trees around us locked us in, obscuring the skies with their bushy canopies. My people were gathered all around us in a circle, wearing masks of deer skulls, blocking any exit. I'd been told that the demonic energy that could be released from me might make me try to run away, so everyone was there to keep me safe within this circle. I couldn't have been more grateful.
I'd asked if there would be pain, but my high priest had assured me that this 'cleansing' was likely to be much more pleasurable than painful for me. He told me to try my best to resist the demon as it came out from me, because that would get the ritual over with more quickly. In essence, if I could remain quiet as they put me through all sorts of rigorous tests, then they would declare me free of the demon and I would be allowed to go. If I was still making a feral racket, then the demon still had me in its possession and they would have to submit me to further procedures.
So, I was nervous. Truthfully, I was scared of this demon that lay dormant within me. I was terrified that when it was unleashed, it would kill me. I didn't want to be so helpless and powerless. I clung onto the reassurance the high priest gave me, and could only hope the ritual would be over and done with swiftly.
The high priest was saying some prayers for me now, blessing me with droplets of holy water. He led me over to this huge tree stump in the middle of the clearing and instructed me to disrobe. Self-consciously, but not wanting to hold up the ritual, I slowly removed my cloak. Instantly, the chilly night air clung to my skin. With some embarrassment, my nipples hardened in the cold. I was acutely aware of everyone staring and watching me as the high priest told me to lie back on the tree stump and direct my gaze towards the moon overhead. It was really searingly awkward, considering that I'd known everyone since birth. Now, they were able to see every little detail of me, every inch of my skin. I grimaced as I climbed onto it, feeling the hard wood prod my back and buttocks quite uncomfortably, bringing a sweeping cold into my bones. I shivered, longing for the warmth and protection of my cloak again.
"We bless Christina's soul tonight with the powers invested in our community..." my high priest began, taking a bottle of some sort of cleansing agent and pouring it liberally over my naked body. I tried to keep quiet as he doused me in it. It didn't seem like regular water, because everywhere it landed, it sparked little fires on my skin, making me come alive. I gasped softly as my priests' hands descended upon me, rubbing the cleansing lotion into my skin with deft strokes, gliding easily over my bare breasts with over-familiarity. To my humiliation, my nipples peaked as he spread the lotion into my mounds. It wasn't supposed to feel so--but it felt kind of good, or should I say not bad?
"Oh, the devil is in you, alright," the high priest murmured to me as he took my nipples between his fingers and pinched hard. I gasped, squirming under his touch as he kept his fingers clamped down on my buds. He plucked them as far off my body as possible, making my breasts oblongate in the most obscene ways. "That's the devil speaking right now," he said, pointing out my flushed skin, my pebbled nipples and my hastening breath.
"Guard your mind against him, Christina. Borrow from the energies of the moon and resist the devil's advances." He looked meaningfully at me, before directing me to keep my gaze on the full moon high above me. Swallowing nervously, I looked away from the movements of his hands on my chest, sparking strange, wicked feelings in me that seemed to crawl south towards the intersection of my legs, and tried to remain focused on the great glowing white ball of cheese in the sky.
The high priest began speaking in tongues, something I couldn't understand, and then everyone in my community began chanting in unison. I startled as the woods went from eerie silence to a weird cacophony of creepy noises instead, low-pitched repetitive moans and groans that choked the air. The priest's hands drifted over my torso, coasting over my waist and hips, then pushed my legs apart, staying on my inner thighs as he paused, looking between my legs. My heart hammered in my chest. What was he looking at? What did he see? It was so humiliating that this wizened old man was touching me where nobody had touched me before. His stillness compounded the fears rioting within me and I wanted to look at him, pull my gaze away from the moon--
But there was something healing and calming about keeping the moon in my sights. I'd been staring at it long enough that it seemed to envelope me in a cool embrace, its enigmatic glow settling over me like a second skin.
Suddenly, the priest moved. His fingers smeared more of that cleansing lotion into the space between my legs. I gasped, feeling myself touched in this private space that even I had never touched before aside from showering and cleaning myself there. I hadn't even known that such complex feelings could blossom in that region. I twitched upon that tree stump as his fingers pressed into my hole, slipping in and out, dragging slowly, meticulously, over my outer folds. My breathing accelerated, that space between my legs burning up and growing wetter and wetter as the high priest hummed some hymns in a different language, his face almost awkwardly too close to that most intimate part of me.
I wanted to ask all sorts of questions but knew now wasn't the time. Trust the process, he had told me in the days leading up to this ritual. It was hard to, not when it felt so personal. Something built up within me--was that the demon? Fear gripped me, seizing my entire body as something came upon me, spiralling through my core. It suddenly became a lot harder to keep my mouth closed and myself still, especially once the high priest started doing something to that little button above my hole.
Daring to peel my gaze away from the moon for just a split second, I gasped as all I saw was the priest's hair down between my legs, his head bobbing up and down as he rubbed his face against me. That was what was causing these great sensations snaking through my inner thighs, burning through my lower belly? I caught sight of his tongue lapping at that little button, and fought to keep myself quiet, my hands automatically moving to the edges of the tree stump seeking something to grip and anchor myself. Any second now, buffeted by the waves of pleasure radiating out from where the high priest was buried between my thighs, I felt like I could be blown away, swept out to a tormenting ocean of lost screams and girls.
