A man unblemished

Chastity felt soaked through and through. Softened and peeled by the continuous engulfment of the water. For, whatever bubbling natural processes drew up those scorching temperatures from far below… they never relented. The heat just came and came, and you either dealt with it, or would have to throw yourself out gasping for clear, spring air. There was possibly a slight hint of sulphur hanging in the semi-enclosed space, but it was masked by various bunches of hanging herbs, burning incense and scented candles. The girl really believed this would possibly have been the most luxurious and wonderful bathing space she’d ever been allowed in… if not for the further circumstances involved…

She was on her knees in the deeper central part of the small pool. Barely able to keep her chin and neck above the rippling surface. With her shoulders now under… there really was no escape from the feeling of being boiled like cabbage, her head growing hazy as blood rushed into it to try and release some ounce of energy. While in front of her sat the man who owned all this… herself and her mother seeming more and more included in the scope of those assets. He was perched forward on the stone bench under the waterline, allowing room for her parent to sit on the outer rim behind him. There, she was carefully running a washcloth across his muscular back… pouring on handfuls of strange-smelling soap. While Chastity had been given the task of washing the man’s ‘front’. A task all-too obvious in its necessity for her to once again get up close and personal with the priest and what hung between his legs.

She did as she was told, though, as diligently as ever. The bible seemed full of references to people washing each other's feet after all. It was an honoured symbol of humility and kindness. The teen supposed this man was considerably older than her, though he hardly seemed frail at all. Perhaps she should not be surprised he would appreciate some help in this regard. Chastity worked a flannel between each of his toes, around the heel and up both calves. She was surprised by how soft and un-worn his skin was… if gnarled and calloused feet from a life spent working on them had been what she had expected, these were not those. Every inch of him seemed utterly pristine. Supple and muscular without a single scar or blemish. The unworldly teen didn't know much about men's bodies… but she was sure a man of his age should have more signs of the years he'd passed than this. Her own heart even seemed to beat a little faster still at running her fingers along his chiselled contours. A fact that only increased as she had to draw in closer to rub his chest… and some other parts below.

Chastity still hadn’t quite got to grips with this whole new world of human anatomy that she had been kept so in the dark about up until now. Though she had already taken this very penis into her mouth the day before, she still felt incredibly awkward being so close to it again. The way it swelled up to meet her and stood there, proudly, beneath the waterline; still seemed freakish and unsettling to her. Kneeling, between this still stranger-to-her’s knees… she just tried her best to ignore the threatening thing. Scrubbing along his arms for him while the man stared openly at her swaying breasts. He didn’t comment on her obvious avoidance at all… but her own mother, leaning over one shoulder as her own massaging work continued, was not so quiet at all.

“Now what lies between his legs, dear…” She instructed, for all the world like she was teaching her child to sew. “You must make sure that all of your new Father is as clean as can be…”

The ‘Father’ himself just smiled down patiently, with a look that said: “Listen to your mother, child.” He did not need to demand. Chastity was a good girl, and thus would do whatever her mother asked of her. The naked teen once again felt trapped between her own sense of self and everything she had been raised to believe. If mother and a man of God told her this was her duty as a newly fledged adult… then surely it was right for her to do it! But… why, then… did something about it make her feel so dirty, squeamish and anxious? She had no answers… nor did she have the will to ask the question aloud. She had been told to do something. So do it she would.