Page 9 of Leviticus
With a final glance at the clock, it was time.
A Dominant will stay focused and in control of the scene he or she is in charge of at all times, putting their own wants and desires aside for the safety and betterment of the submissive.
Stay in control of the scene he or she is in charge of at all times.
Put aside their own wants and desires for the safety and betterment of the submissive. Or in this case — the wife.
There were times that being a Dominant had its perks. This had to be one of those times. I stood there in my finest suit, the one my father had suggested I wear today. The deep navy color set off the crisp white shirt beautifully. It was one of my favorite suits, truth be told, and that was saying something. The protocol driven nature of my Dominance made wearing suits quite fun in a scene. If only this were a scene instead of a complete shit show.
I stood there at the front of the church, my father by my side, standing as my Best Man. The doors at the back of the church were still closed, though I could see the faint outline of my soon to be wife through the beveled glass.
No, not just my soon to be wife. Ruth. The woman had a name, and her name was Ruth. She had grown up here at Zion, just as I had, but for all that meant, we were practically strangers. I had seen her around Zion, seen her in church, but we had never spoken two words to each other. When would we have? Boys and girls did not fraternize here. It wasn’t the way things worked . How was I supposed to go through with the rest of this day — with the inspection and consummation ceremonies — with a complete stranger? How was I going to live with this woman for an entire month in my home, alone, unable to leave? How was I —
My thoughts cut off as the entire congregation, the entire community, stood and turned towards the opening doors at the back of the sanctuary. My eyes found Malachi, panic settling deep within my gut like a stone. He nodded to me once, his strength there with me.
I could do this.
We could do this.
I squared my shoulders, forcing that panic deeper, pushing it into a little box to deal with later. For now, I needed to keep on the mask that I had perfected. I let myself smile the smallest smile as the petite woman walked slowly towards me, her arm tucked into the crook of her father’s elbow. She was smaller than I had imagined. My father had told me that she was twenty-four. Thank God for that. There had been more than a few marriages with age gaps that roiled my stomach. At least she was of age.
Her dress was white and plain and covered her from high neck to floor and clear down to over her hands. The veil she wore was almost comical. For as plain as her dress was, the veil was massive. It covered her face with multiple layers. Did they think we hadn’t seen each other in town? They kept her covered as though seeing her face would have me running for the hills. Granted, I couldn’t for the life of me remember what she looked like. Not that it mattered.
In no time at all, she stood before me. The Reverend spoke words that sounded like nonsense to me as he addressed the congregation. Ruth stood before me resembling crumpled up tissue. Make no mistake, I mean no disrespect to the woman. Not by a long shot. It’s simply that the sheer poof and floof of the veil and the slightly wrinkled dress…I had never paid attention to it in all the weddings I had attended. This couldn’t be what a woman dreamed of for her wedding day. Then again, I’m sure I wasn’t what any woman dreamed of either. Hell, she didn’t even know me.
The Reverend’s voice continued, speaking words of our union, of the vows we were taking and the promises we were making to God. The words ran together, jumbled and toxic. He asked her to obey me, to be true to me, to submit to me, to be owned by me. It was toxic. These words that have meant so much to me as a Dominant — for those same words to be twisted into this grotesque amalgamation of toxic bullshit made me want to vomit and run as far from this town as I possibly could. One day I would, but today wasn’t that day. Today, I would take Ruth as my wife and I would do what I must. In the end, I would offer her the chance for a new life as well. Not as my wife, but as a woman free of the captivity this cult-like society had offered her. I could do this. For her. For each of the women my brothers and I would wed.
None of this made these vows any easier to utter. I was lying to her, promising her a lifetime of twisted devotion as the master of our home and, essentially, the ruler of her life. The worst part was just how closely tied it was to my personal proclivities. Yet, completely different at the same time.
“Leviticus, place the ring on Ruth’s finger and repeat after me. I, Leviticus, take thee, Ruth…”
I held her small, gloved hand in mine, noting the way she trembled within my grasp. She was terrified. And why wouldn’t she be. I spoke the words, repeating after Reverend Jacob. As his words came to a close and I slipped the white glove from her hand in order to place the modest gold band over her finger. Her hand was small, dainty and I gave her a smile. Granted, I was pretty sure she couldn’t see a damned thing under that monstrosity of a veil.
Our hands shifted as she brought a wedding band to my own finger. Her voice was soft and quiet, almost comforting in a way. I didn’t want to be comforted. I should be the one comforting her. I flexed my hand by the smallest amount, hoping she would take that as a small comfort. Though I could see nothing of her face, I swear she tipped her face up by the smallest amount in recognition. Perhaps that was one small victory in this twisted circus.
The cold metal of the gold band slipped over my finger, cementing the lies I spoke before God and congregation. The lies I spoke before this poor, innocent woman. She deserved better. She deserved a husband who wanted to marry her. Who loved her for who she was.
“By the power vested in me by the Creator of all, I pronounce you husband and wife. Leviticus, you may kiss your bride.” I looked at the heavily layered veil, determining the best way to lift it. I lifted the netted material, thanking my lucky stars that I hadn’t made a fool of myself in front of everyone in the process.
As her face came into view, I almost dropped the material right back down again. The small memory I had of her hadn’t done her justice. Her face was completely unadorned. So completely different from the women at Abditory. Plain and clean, she was beautiful. Smooth, lightly tanned skin, and large, deep doe eyes that gave me pause. She looked up at me for guidance, and against every part of me that protested, I answered that call as any Dominant would. I could not give her my Dominance. I would not subject her to a life of such things. Those urges I would fight down. I would place them in a box to be brought out some day in the very far away future, when the world I inhabited was safer. No, I could not give her my Dominance, but I would give her my protection and my guidance. I would give her my respect.
I leaned down, pressing the chastest of kisses at the seam of her lips before pulling away and letting the veil fall once more. It was customary, but aside from that, I didn’t want to see the disappointment on her face. I didn’t want to think of how often that look would likely grace her face over the coming months.
It didn’t matter. The vows were spoken. It was done.
And the real torture was ready to begin.
Ruth and I were led through the cheering congregation back out of the sanctuary, where the church elders were quickly gathering. I vaguely heard Reverend Jacob’s words floating out through the doors.
“As we celebrate such a momentous occasion, please join us in the fellowship hall next door for a feast to celebrate our happy newlyweds. The Grace of God be bestowed on the Followers!”
“The Followers of the Path,” the congregation dutifully responded.
The elders led us away, down a hall towards a set of stairs that would lead us to the basement. I had never been in this part of the church before. My wife held the crook of my elbow like a lifeline. There was an ominous air surrounding us, a deep sense of foreboding. I placed my hand on top of hers as we walked down the stairs. I didn’t want this for her, this woman I didn’t even know, yet had sworn myself to protect. I couldn’t shield her from this day, but I swore to myself, right then and there, that I would protect her from all else. The majority of vows I had just spoken to her before God and congregation were lies. This one would not be. After this day, I would keep her safe until she was no longer mine to protect. She didn’t deserve this. No one did.
“Right this way,” Elder Jared spoke, opening a door in the darkened hallway. The door opened into a room that was cast in low light. A bed was positioned in the center of the room — if you could call it a bed at all. It was a mattress covered in a thin sheet with a flattened pillow atop it. Comfortable chairs and stools littered the room around the bed, trapping it as a centerpiece to this facade of an event.
“Right this way, Mrs. Temple.” Elder Jared led Ruth to the center of the room. I could tell he was trying to pull her from my side, but I refused, moving along with her the entire way.
