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They’d just finished making love, Garrent had gotten up to stoke the fire and Naama lay without covers feeling uninhibited, drowsy and sore. She didn’t mind the soreness now, nor had she minded the burst of pain when he’d first entered her, the pain that had built and built accompanied by something else, something pleasurable, though she’d been startled at seeing how large he was when he’d first undressed. She looked around the beautiful room. They were in the Rose Cottage, one of three cottages maintained for the culmination of the claret tantra ceremony.
Naama had always dreamed of being assigned this cottage for her ceremony and even had sketched an entire drawing pad full of pictures based on the description of one of the older girls who’d had her ceremony there. The girl wasn’t terribly descriptive saying she really hadn’t noticed too much about the cottage implying the ceremony was overwhelming, and by the end of the sketches, Naama had created her own vision of the cottage adding multiple rooms she knew didn’t exist, each one filled with glorious embellishments, wallpapers of pinks and greens and blues, furniture that would have been appropriate for the Royal House and even a small sitting room and balcony which opened off of the bedroom. When they’d first entered the bedroom she’d been thrilled to see that while there was no sitting room, there was in fact a tiny balcony hidden behind two story tall spruce bushes which bracketed the little backyard.
The bedroom in her drawings was much like her own only larger and she’d even replicated everything on her walls and everything she’d created up to that point which she sketched scattered around the antique white furniture. She’d added wallpaper with precious little rose buds and mint green leaves accented by caramel colored swirls each tipped with a tiny golden speck. The pattern was similar to the one on the High Priestesses tea service.
Garrent lay back down by Naama, propped himself up on one elbow and traced her breast with his fingertips. He seemed lost in thought.
He was so quiet Naama began to have doubts. Hadn’t she followed through on everything she’d been taught? She hadn’t fought him, not at all, even following the pain that came when he first pushed himself into her with a single thrust. The girls were prepared for that as that pain was part of the boys due. She’d known the first thrust would come with force, and while she was a little anxious not wanting to react badly, when it had come and the pain had felt like she was being split apart she’d forced herself to give no more than a single cry, taught that while letting the boy know that he had claimed your first pain was desirable, they were also taught not to scream or fight no matter how much it hurt as it would be taken as resistance, something prohibited now and with future lovers.
Truthfully, while the coupling had been painful it hadn’t been nearly as bad as Naama had resigned herself to beforehand. After a while even though the pain grew a bit, the sensations became pleasurable. Maybe that was bothering Garrent. Maybe she should have been more reserved, not visible enjoyed it when those sensations came. But she had been taught they should both find pleasure during the experience. Yet despite a lot of the night being for her what happened when he took possession of her body was for him, and part of what strengthened him and provided him additional power was her giving herself in pain and blood.
She had accepted that it was her duty to come to terms with the pain, accepting it as giving over to Garrent what he had every right to claim. But as she had been taught she had then tried to find a way to enjoy escort izmit the coupling despite the pain and once that occurred to reach an even higher level, experiencing the pain as pleasurable. She believed she had reached that level, that while each thrust initially hurt despite her willingness to accept it, that there came a time that she willingly spread herself wider for him, even lifted her feet off the mattress encouraging him to thrust harder.
“What are you thinking about?” Naama asked him, a wave of pleasure rushing over her as he cupped a full breast in his hand and caught the nipple tightly between his first two fingers.
“You’re alright?” He asked. “I was sure I’d seen permission in your expression before I . . . but then with the screams I wasn’t sure. . . I just couldn’t stop myself at that point . . .”
She exhaled in relief. At the end, when she could see he was working up to an orgasm and trying not to be ruthless in his final thrusts she’d whispered to him, “Don’t hold back, just let go,” and for a brief second he’d stopped his movements, searching her face for the permission he’d heard in her voice. Evidently he’d found what he was looking for because he slowly, tortuously pulled out of her almost completely, and his hardened stare hinted at what was to come. Then suddenly he’d left her body completely and before she knew what was happening slammed into her with all his strength.
With each of his last thrusts she was certain he couldn’t be more forceful, pound deeper into her body yet with each successive thrust he did. She did scream then, a surprised scream at the pain of the first of these and then again, loudly with the final one when he rammed himself so deeply into her she felt her cervix slightly forced open, a new pain she had been told about but also told almost never happened during the first time. Though that final scream had reflected a pain that left her breathless, she realized afterwards as he lay still lodged deeply within her there had been pleasure as well. Intense pleasure.
He looked down at her then with a touch of worry in his eyes but she’d smiled up at him. She brushed the hair from his forehead and replied, “You saw permission, longing even, though I didn’t realize how deeply you could enter me. Every time I thought that was it, the limit, but then the next time . . . and the time after that. . . and the time after that . . .” Here they’d both laughed.
“Then you’re not traumatized like so many of the other girls seem to be?” he’d asked.
“Traumatized? Wait, what do you mean? We’re all fully prepared. I knew what was going to happen, that there would be pain involved but pleasure as well, that if we gave ourselves over the pain that it is your dictate to cause, we can even find pleasure in it. . .No one of the inner courtyard is traumatized,” Naama was confused over Garrent’s statement, searching his eyes for a clue as to where the statement could have come from. If anything he’d seemed a bit embarrassed.
“I know it’s not the way among the girls to talk about the ceremony, or any experiences really,” he began. “But I guess there’s a little more leniency among the habits of the boys. Oh we don’t name names or anything like that,” he was quick to interject, “some of the boys just talk about what it was like, if they held themselves back, that sort of thing.”
“But they do, they have to. That’s not even something we are allowed to consent to in the contract drawn up at the end of the welcoming ceremony. We can only decide to consent when the moment comes, at the end.” Naama continued to search Garrent’s face for a clue as to what he’d heard from the other boys. To her consternation izmit escort he blushed and looked a little guilty. But what for? She’d consented, had asked him to . . .
“I know. I know we’re not supposed to but, well, it’s something that’s overlooked. It’s come to be something boys. . .” he seemed uncertain how to go on.
“Do?” she supplied, hoping she was wrong. If the consent for that meant nothing then what if all those things she thought of as deserved rights were just a sham?
“brag about,” Garrent finished averting his eyes.
“Brag. About.” Naama repeated woodenly.
“It’s come to be accepted that to get the greatest amount of power from the ClarentTtantric ceremony the boy must take all the woman can give, well not all, obviously, I couldn’t just force you to do something on your forbidden list,” Garrents speech was speeding up as he spoke. “But with this, since there’s already the pain of the first tear, it’s thought by some of the boys, well, a lot of the boys, that letting the animal instinct surface, even though we’re not really supposed to unless we’re with a slave or we become a patron, or are given permission of course, it isn’t really a separate act from the first tear, it’s just an increase in the same pain not a different type of pain from a different act and so. . .” here he looked at her a bit frantically as if he’d told a secret he shouldn’t have shared.
“It’s okay Garrent, you didn’t force me, I asked you to, but are you saying that others don’t wait for consent, they just. . . force that on the girl?” It couldn’t be like that surely, Naama thought.
“Well, yes,” he said, looking miserable.
“But surely, the High Priestess doesn’t know, can’t know. She’d talk to the High Priest and put a stop to it. . . ” Garrent was shaking his head.
“They tried, the last High Priestess and then your High Priestess as well, and even more vehemently that the former. I believe the High Priest had issued a challenge to held beliefs and gotten enough support to put forth a proposal to adopt changes to the Priscus Albanus on the matter.”
The Piscus Albanus was our rule of law governing everything from taxes to who was allowed to be conscripted into the army. A rather large section of it not available to any but those who had direct cause, which translated into all those of the inner and outer courtyards, any men who desired to be and made application when they weren’t born into a family that automatically privileged them and any mother who designated her daughter to the ways of the Priestesses of Tantra and brought her to be dedicated.
The Priscus Albanus was believed to be carved in stone only amendable by sheer majority of all adults bound by the section though each woman’s vote counted for only two-thirds of that of a man’s. The alleged rational being there were more women than men though everyone knew a great deal of effort went to keeping the gender proportion of the inner and outer courtyard as close to even as possible. Majority was likewise set at two-thirds of votes cast. The fact that Naama was of voting age now and had not been told there was such a proposal was something she would take up with the High Priestess when she returned.
“But he can’t just decide that brutality is the desired way for the Claret Tantra,” Naama exclaimed. “Each girl is different in how they respond. And how can the boys be given license to go ahead and choose this over the girl’s consent when there’s been no amendment yet?”
“Was I really brutal?” Garrent asked, his eyes seeming a touch hard causing Naama to question if she had offended him.
“No, not for me, but I think that izmit kendi evi olan escort perhaps for some girls it might have seemed so, at least if they hadn’t consented and hadn’t known it could happen even without their consent,” she answered carefully.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Garrent agreed. “But not for you?”
Naama ducked her head wondering if she had responded in a way he might think of as unnatural. “No, not for me.”
He turned her face toward him. “I’m glad. I don’t suppose you received much pleasure at the end but I’m glad you at least didn’t perceive me as being brutal.”
Naama mumbled something.
“What?” Garrent asked. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I said I did. Get pleasure. From that. At the end, I mean,” she said, blushing from the bottom of her neck to the roots of her hair.
Garrent’s smile spread from cheek to cheek, then he tried unsuccessfully to reign it in. “I’m glad,” he said the smile breaking free once again. She hit him with a pillow and they grinned at each other.
Naama shifted slightly and then noticed Garrent looking down at her oddly.
“What is it?” she’d asked as he moved her over a little, then a little more. He was decidedly frowning by then and Naama became worried.
“Garrent? Garrent, what is it?” He got back up and walked out through the double doors to the small balcony. She put on her new robe and went out after him.
“Garrent, talk to me. You’re scaring me. Did I do something wrong?” Naama was starting to get worried.
Garrent turned to face her straight on, his eyes hard. “The blood Naama, why didn’t you bleed?”
Naama was confused, not understanding him and then when she did, felt as if she was going to faint. “What?” she asked in a panic.
“There was no blood, Naama. On the bedsheet. None whatsoever.”
“But. . . but that’s not possible. It was my first time. I’ve never, I’ve never even in the personal exercises, not ever. . .” She rushed back into the room and threw off the covers, searching every inch of the bottom sheet. Then she searched her body, her inner thighs. Nothing. She sat down stunned. Garrent was right. There was no blood. She dropped her head into her hands realizing he could ruin her for this. It didn’t matter if she was or wasn’t a virgin, the first blooding was expected to involve blood. There was a level of power that came from this that was higher than any of the other things they’d done. But they were friends weren’t they? Surely he cared about her, enough not to ruin her, cause her to be allowed to be taken by any male in the outer courtyard any way they pleased? That would be the result if. . . no she couldn’t bear to think of it.
She heard his footsteps as he returned to the bedroom, could feel his eyes as he stood over her. She looked up beseechingly.
“You have to believe me, Garrent. I was a virgin until tonight. I did nothing to jeopardize the blooding, nothing at all.”
His eyes weren’t quite as hard as they’d been on the balcony but they weren’t comforting either.
“I believe you, Naama. I only have one question. Are you willing to do what it takes to remedy this?”
For a minute Naama drew a blank. Remedy this? What could possibly remedy this? And then she remembered the law. It so rarely happened and when it did the boy had every right to publicize it even if it could be proven the girl had in fact come to him a virgin. As Naama remembered what she would have to do to give what she had failed to during the coupling, her heart sank and her stomach knotted. As much as he cared for her, Naama knew there would be no compromise on this. It was too important to his future. And though Naama knew from their conversations he truly didn’t have his heart set on leading someday she also knew what a great leader he would be. And so there could only be one answer, for both of their futures.
“Yes,” she said leadenly. “I’m willing.”
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