A full moon hung heavy in the summer night sky. It was like a scene from a movie but the reality of it was brought home to Graham by his heightened sense of arousal and the majesty of the individuals before him. He had been selected from a long list of applicants to witness a special ceremony like none other. The Southern Regional Obeah Society was having a rites of passage ceremony for one of its most exalted members. To the outside world, the organization was nothing more than a Black BDSM group that promoted Black Supremacy. In actuality, it was nothing of the sort. It was a group formed to restore true Afrocentric principles and governing regulations to those that chose to acknowledge Africa as their spiritual and cultural homeland. Hoards of submissive whites flocked to the S.R.O.S. members because they were so comfortable with their sexuality and power and it served as a natural aphrodisiac for those wishing to relinquish some white guilt. On this weekend, the Divine Mother Mistress Olutuunde was being given the title of Goddess. It was a sacred ceremony with traditions and practices taken from several West African religions and adapted to contemporary African American sensibilities. Meaning, no goats were sacrificed, no genitals were mutilated, but there was an amazing feast of food and libations and traditional dress, dance and ritual.
Graham had been escorted blindfolded to a remote compound outside of Atlanta. Graham was the only white person there and his own insecurities made him more self-conscious than the actual treatment he received. Everyone treated him with casual deference. He was insignificant to the weekend's festivities and he knew his place was to watch and to observe and to await his time to serve.
Friday night, he witnessed all the weary travelers arrive and find their accommodations. There were about 35 to 40 guests in all; the majority of which were Black males. There were a handful of women that were also high ranking priestesses in the order, but this weekend they were acting as maidens to Divine Mother Olutuunde. They were to cater to her every need. Graham noticed that the Divine Mother treated them all with respect. He imagined that a white woman would not be as gracious with a similar amount of power, and wondered silently why there seemed to be no signs of jealousy among the women. His sensitivities to the differences in behavior were heightened by the fact that the he was the lone Caucasian in the group and he had no choice but to remark on the differing patterns. The rest of the women in attendance had risen to the ranks of Goddess already and were going to be officiating the ceremony. They remained out of sight mostly, preparing themselves with prayer and meditation in the solitude of nature. They were drawing on all of the spiritual energies and ancestors needed to raise Mistress Olu's vibrational pattern to that of a Deity.
Saturday morning began a day of preparation and festivities. The Divine Mother was not to have her feet touch the ground so she was carried upon the shoulders of four men wherever she needed to be taken. She actually had no such need; anything and everything she desired would be brought to her with the snap of her fingers. The four men stood by her like sentinels guarding the throne. The women groomed the Divine mother all day, lavishing luxury and pleasure on her. Graham watched from the periphery, constantly aroused and amazed by the beautiful brown bodies before him.
The hand maidens took great pleasure in attending to the honoree. Graham watched in amazement while they washed the long, beautiful dreadlocs of the Divine Mother, at how they used a liquid black soap to create volumes of suds and massaged them gently from root to tip. They gently and repeatedly poured purified spring water from a pitcher through her hair until no signs of lather remained. The maidens then created a hairstyle that looked like a crown with her locks, and momentarily, Graham was ashamed that his fine, limp hair could not duplicate any such style.
He watched in awe as they bathed her body. From head to toe, they caressed her smooth brown skin. Each maiden knew that one day she would be in the same position and she lavished all the pampering and care she would want on herself, creating a space in the universe for her actions to be returned in kind when it was her time to ascend. Intricate henna tattoos of ancient Adinkra symbols were skillfully applied to Olutuunde's spine, a spiritual road map of sorts for her energy to be raised up through her chakras. Melted shea butter was poured all over her and all ten hands of her lady servants massaged it in to every pore. Her skin glistened and glowed with rich deep tones and smooth, velvety perfection.
Graham swallowed hard as the women prepared to shave the beautiful cunt of Mistress Olu. She lay back on the down filled mattress and spread her legs. The male attendants stood erect in more ways than one, in their color sarongs and bare chests, as they watched. Graham was light headed, awed by all the beautiful Ebony bodies before him. He wished he could just disappear into the surroundings but there was little need for his nervousness; his presence there was more like that of a pet than a participant.
They lathered her gorgeous mons and sharpened the straight-edged razor with precision and skill. Slowly... methodically... and with exacting movements, every hair was removed to reveal the silky, soft folds of black femininity. They repeated the procedure again, leaving her naked in a way that seemed more tangible than just having no clothes on. Her pussy lips were like that of a flower, delicately opening to reveal her inner most treasure.
Each maiden, one by one, knelt at Olu's core and made tribute with her mouth. Each woman kissed, licked, and sucked that sweet pussy while the Divine Mother lay writhing in sensual ecstasy. Circling her clit with their lips, ramming their tongues deep in her hole, over and over again, Mother Olutuunde shuddered through a string of never-ending orgasms. Graham, knowing he could not relieve himself during the weekend's activities, stood in tortured agony awaiting his turn. His chance to drink from the beautiful Mistress was not to come any time soon. His opportunity to feast at the divine core was to come at a much later, more crucial stage in the weekend.
He made his way around the rest of the compound, pausing to take note of the strength and beauty of all of the people that surrounded him. He wondered inwardly how their ancestors could ever have been confused for being inferior. He marveled at their bodies, their skin, and their presence. Everything about them reeked of royalty and magnificence.
Graham casually strolled to the barn on the property where no less than 10 black men were in various states of undress; all of whom were eating, drinking, dancing, drumming and working out. They were preparing for the night's main event. They were bonding; each man hand selected by a private council to participate in the initiation. Ascending to the position of Deity in the secret order is the second highest honor of the resurrected African tradition. The highest honor and privilege went to the men who were selected to impregnate the initiate. As Goddess Mother, she was to give birth to a Prince or Princess that would one day reign supreme. No one man could be selected to father such a child lest his ego become distorted with delusions of grandeur. Twenty men were selected, each for their special talents, abilities, and skills, to provide love, nurturing, support, guidance and the genetic materials to assist in the creation of the wonder child. No one would ever know who the biological father of the child was and it was of no importance. Yes, for a mother, the child would have the mother of all mothers and he or she would have twenty fathers that would love and protect him or her for life. The child would be the collective of the most superior genetic stuff possible. Graham watched as the men prepared and secretly hoped that their sperm would be the one to impregnate the Divine Mother Goddess.
Night fell and electricity grew in the air. It was a wild frenzy of celebration and circumstance. A huge bonfire burned and spat glowing embers to the cleared holy grounds, the land that held the bones of ancient survivors of chains of slavery and tyranny. Graham was a part of the processional, led in on a leash attached to his cock and balls. His pink erection looked almost laughable in comparison to the columns of Ebony flesh sported by Black priests of the secret society. He made himself comfortable on one of the hammocks and prepared for a long night.
Incantations were recited in strange tongues and prayers were sent up to the heavens. Twenty men were to make love to this woman, which could conceivably take twenty hours or more if left to their own devices. Each man was limited to 15 minutes not only to deposit his load into the Divine Mother, but to give her pleasure. They had refrained from any sexual contact for six weeks and eaten a strictly vegan diet to prepare for their responsibility. Olu had prepared as well. In addition to her fasting and meditation, she had been trained in ancient Kemetic sexual practices from other women who had ascended to the rank of Goddess. They taught her magical techniques that the Western mind would find inconceivable. She was prepared to give all the men the most memorable night of their lives in more ways than one.
The Divine Mother Mistress Olutuunde was carried in on the shoulders of her four body guards and placed on an altar. It was designed to have her comfortably recline in a position where her pelvis was at the same level of her lovers and allow the sperm to collect in her womb. She was radiant and joyful, almost too peaceful for someone about to be given the title of living God.
Each man that had been selected to contribute his load to the mix stood in anticipation. They stroked themselves to arousal in a huge circle jerk of masculine showmanship. The maidens licked and kissed Olu in a grand display of lesbian foreplay. That alone was enough to get ancestral spirits aroused but that was not to be the grand finale as it were. A cloth bag with a mudcloth pattern was circulated between the men. Each man drew a smooth stone with a symbol carved into it. That was to be the order in which they were to "perform". A high priestess would send up a prayer and reach in another bag and pull out a stone. The individual with the matching symbol would be the next in line to perform.
Graham was in agony; his balls were aching and he was desperate for some relief. The numb ache he felt was a turn on, he liked being deprived of satisfaction, it was his fetish. He knew that when the time came for him to release it would be explosive.
The crowd was in a frenzy, desperate to know who would be the first. They were chanting and dancing and drumming and praying. Naked black bodies gyrated and moved in trancelike fashion.
The first symbol was pulled. The lucky frontrunner was an artist and musician named Heru from the Philadelphia area. He was honey vanilla in complexion and had locs that cascaded down his back. His 6'even frame was sinewy yet muscular and his stomach looked like a rippled washboard. The muscles in his lean, athletic thighs flexed as he approached the altar. He looked down on Olu with love and affection and they tenderly touched fingertips in an act of intimacy. For the first five minutes of their exchange, they kissed. They kissed the kiss of eternal lovers reunited after a lifetime of separation. Silence fell over the crowd out of reverence and respect. Their kisses grew more passionate and more compelling, to a feverish pitch. Olutuunde's body arched up to receive Heru and they joined together for the first time. Everyone took a deep breath at that very moment except for Heru and Olu. They cried out into the night in sensual bliss.