The Offering

Prologue

The sensations were distinct for Nicole at first: the cold shock of the raindrops on her bare skin, the taste of her husband's lips, the tingling brush of his pubic hair against her clitoris, the swelling pressure of his member inside of her, and the strange tightness in behind. But the more she gave herself to the moment, the more the sensations merged, swirling together like paints on a palette. The world went away and all she could feel or recognize was a summiting pleasure that slowly consumed every corner of her awareness, filling her to completeness before bursting like a balloon of rapturous, narcotic delight. She screamed without realizing it.

Chapter One -- Just Before Dark

"Glad we got here before sunset," Caleb remarked as they pulled into the parking lot after 30 minutes of highway-driving, followed by 20 of winding, turkey-trail, dirt-roads. He dreaded to think how much dust would be pasted now to the exterior of his little blue sedan.

"Still gotta drive home dear," Nicole smirked, noticing that the sky was almost completely dark by this point.

He hadn't thought of that, and now had a fun new dread to contemplate -- trying to do that whole drive a second time in one evening with a higher degree of difficulty thanks to darkness the second time around. "Well, shit."

"I can get us home." She offered.

The thickness of the forest kept the breeze low and refreshing as they stepped out of their car and onto the endless depths of tiny pebble that made up what was ostensibly a parking lot, but only in the crudest sense of the term -- it was a gravel lot in which cars parked, and seemed very nearly full at the moment, despite the remote location, and with a stream of cars still lining up behind them to enter.

"Well, at least we got a space," he said, watching some of the most recent cars giving up entirely and simply parking on the sides of the dirt road just outside of the lot.

Caleb held out his arm to help steady his wife, whose black-heels had already sunken half an inch into the loose pebbles beneath her. The sight of her stepping out in his favorite dress, a tight, ankle-length black gown with an open back and thin shoulder straps was enough to cause him to very nearly miss supporting her. It wasn't the cut of the dress, so much as the fabric, thin and clingy in a way that tantalized him with the sense of just how little material separated her soft, fantastically curved body from the eyes of the world. She grabbed his arm to level off and his mind emerged from the gutter it was drowning in.

"Thanks. Let's head up."

"Up where he asked, looking around for some sort of signage, but finding only cars and pedestrians and trees." There was something spectacularly contradictory about so many people occupying the same space out in the middle of nowhere. There must have been 30 cars, at least.

From one of them, a nearby Ford pickup truck, a short, elderly man with kind eyes emerged and waved at them as he passed. Caleb nodded back in acknowledgement.

"What was that about?" he asked.

Nicole pulled back her own waving hand in order to pin behind her ear the few strands of shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair that had tossled across her face on the bumpy drive over. "Just being friendly." This tracked for Caleb. Nicole had the kind of beauty that you might describe as "accessible." She was stunning to look at with her large, expressive mouth contrasting her petite button nose, but it was her large blue eyes that always felt completely engaged and engaging, like whoever she was talking to was the only person in the world, the only person in the room. She put people at their ease.

"You don't think he remembers us from..."

"Last year?" She could tell that he was visibly blushing. She had to hold back her smirk for seeming too condescending, but she always found him to be utterly adorable when he was flustered or embarrassed. That, combined with the warm summer breeze and the recollection of the event last year all mixed together as a sort of cocktail of tingling she began to feel throughout her skin. She sensed her heartbeat picking up a little as well, but resolved to stay cool, poised, calm, whatever it took to keep her husband from freaking out.

"Yeah," he replied.

"I'm actually pretty sure everyone who saw us last year is going to remember us. We were pretty unforgettable."

Caleb's cheeks flushed even further. "That was...something."

The details of the recollection were awkward, maybe even humiliating -- a mistaken invitation to the meeting of a swingers club leading to a drunken indulgence. Instead he chose to remember the moment he liked best-- her naked flesh, the stage, the crowd of surprised and exuberant onlookers, the climax. Everything after that was retreat. In some ways, he'd been retreating ever since, but not tonight. He'd made a promise to her and he intended to hold up his end.

She led him past the cars at the east end of the lot toward a little path that led away from the lot and into the forest before climbing a small set of log stairs that pierced through the treeline and over the hill. They went with the flow here, following the crowd of others, everyone walking in the direction of the setting sun, all but gone now, save for a feint glow on the horizon that, at the right angle, filled the thin gaps between the trees with a haunting glow, as if the forest itself was projecting an aura.

They paused before a large pink Bristol board sign lettered in black sharpie that read: "Ayr Polyamorous Society -- Spring Solstice Ceremony -- This Way"

"You sure you want this?" he asked.

She smiled. "You have no idea."

Chapter Two -- Very Good Seats

Thirty feet down the trail, Caleb stood in front of another Bristol board signpost at a fork in the trail with arrows pointing in two different directions. "Do we want robing or auditorium?" Nicole, trailing 15 feet behind on account of the heels, stifled her anger at him for sprinting ahead to read the sign.

"Auditorium," she replied passing ahead of him and following the trail without stopping.

Caleb half-sighed at this before following. "How come we don't get robes?" He was a sucker for robes, lived for his Sunday morning robe-wearing, and 3 of his last 7 Christmas gifts from Nicole had been robes.

"We don't need em," she half-spat backwards at him in frustration.

"OK." And just like that the sudden joy of unexpected robing deflated just as quickly as it had arrived into his life and he resigned himself to being robeless. Looking around he noticed several small wooden cabins amongst the trees, each with a little doorstop and a picture of a smiling bear in front of an address number.

"Is this a summer camp?"

"Will be in two weeks," she replied. "They use it off-season."

"Really?"

"Every last Thursday in June, then again in October."

"How do you know that?" he asked.

"It's on the group page."

Caleb had only had the one encounter with the Ayr Polyamorous Society and, while memorable, the details surrounding their infrastructure were not something he'd ever latched onto. Any time he thought about them, and there were times he tried not to, all he remembered was the room of people cheering him as Nicole thrust her sweat-soaked body across his lap in front of them.

The path was sloping downhill now, away from the cabins, and a burly man in his 30s with a shaved head and beard walked toward them and smiled as he passed.

"Forgot my robe," he said apologetically.

Caleb stopped and turned his head to follow the man walking away.

"See? Are you sure we don't need to..."

"Yes," Nicole stated bluntly. "Hurry up or I'm leaving you out here to fend for yourself."

"I could be a boy scout," he defied her.

"You'd die," she retorted.

"I'd probably die," he affirmed, "but my corpse would be sexy as hell, all rugged and flannel-y."

The trail opened onto a great bowl-shaped structure of wood and concrete built into the slope of the hill. Rows of long wooden benches curved endlessly along the hillside, all surrounding a large, open-air wooden stage in the centre. Filling the seats, and still filing in around them, were dozens of robed and hooded people.

Nicole paused a moment to look up at the sky. "I hope the rain holds off." The last light of the fading sun was just enough to view thick dark clouds rolling in above them.

"What kind of summer camp is this?" Caleb asked, staring in awe at the grand outdoor auditorium in front of them, which was nicer than the indoor auditorium at his high school. The rows of benches were all made from logs cut in half and propped on legs, but the sanding and finish transcended the sort of rustic look that you might expect, and gave Caleb the unmistakeable impression of money at play, as did the stage, which rose 4 feet off the ground, with metal rigging surrounding it. Caleb had never been a theatre-child, but he could make out lights and ropes and sandbags. It also looked expensive. He suddenly thought back on his childhood scouting camps with furious envy.

"Rock and roll camp," she replied. Ages 6 to 17.

He felt his jealousy rise further -- his camps were all about macaroni art and responsible citizenship. He might have grown up to be a good person, but at the moment he'd have preferred to be more rock and roll. He looked around at the crowd and felt an even further surge of envy, a relevant one this time -- everyone in it was wearing identical hooded black robes.

"I don't remember this level of wizard cosplay at the last meeting?" Caleb remarked.

"That was just a mixer. This is the real deal -- robes and all."

"Shit. How old is the Ayr Polyamorous Society?" he asked, fearing that he'd stepped into the den of a long and storied society, secretly pulling the strings of history for ages upon...

Nicole laughed, before whispering back to him "1986. They just like to be dramatic."

Caleb smiled back. "Pretty smart, actually. Those robes look real cozy."

"Mmm hmmm."

"Do we have time to go b..."

"NO!" she interrupted, slapping him in the ribs to punctuate the thought. "C'mon."

Nicole took his hand gently and led him past the crowd, stepping precisely to avoid falling over in her heels as she made her way down the crude stairs made of wooden beams and still more gravel, closer and closer to the stage level. Caleb cast his eyes from side to side, trying to recognize any of the faces within the robes from that night a year ago, or even just to see if anyone was staring at him conspicuously in remembrance. He seemed to be lucking out so far -- no heads were turning and though some of the faces stirred in him a vague recollection, the deadly cocktail of alcoholic fruit punch and adrenaline from the year prior kept him from truly recognizing anyone. He was relieved, but still apprehensive about attending another of their events after they had promised themselves and each other to never speak of that night, and certainly never to return.

Yet here they were. Looking at the stage drawing nearer, he though, in particular of the moment Nicole had first exposed herself to the crowd on last year's stage, their shock and awe to see her in front of them without panties (she'd left them at home...he'd sort of suggested it). Her competing sense of embarrassment and exhilaration had stuck in his mind where all these strangers' faces hadn't. He had dreamed of that moment quite often in the year that had passed.

He flashed back to reality as he realized they were running out of rows to sit in, getting closer and closer to the stage where the crowds had already amassed.

"How close do you want to sit?" he asked.

"About that" she responded. "Remember when I asked you if you'd be willing to come to this, and you said you'd do anything for me?"

"I remember you were naked at the time and had your hand on my..." he lowered his voice to a discreet whisper "...cock."

"Yes, that's correct," she smiled wryly "but not grounds for an exemption."

"I hate what law school is doing to you."

"Me too, kinda, but that's not the point." They were in the very front row now. His steps had grown heavier and she was all but dragging him along the area directly before the stage.

"Um."

"Yes?"

"Um..."

"Yeah. Yeah" she replied earnestly before leading him right to the side stairway.

"Our spot's up there," she stated, gesturing up at the stage.

"You said we were coming to their show."

"And we totally are! In fact, we're bringing the show with us. Think about how much fun you had the last time!"

"I was drunk...and naked."

"Me too! Let's try it sober this time -- maybe it will be even better!'

"I..." His face had turned beet red at this point and he was quite sure that his forehead had somehow generated an instant deluge of perspiration as if the sweat had just teleported onto his brow from nowhere.

"Please!" She begged. "You've been traveling so much I barely see you. I wanted to, like, maximize our time together."

"Sure, but this?"

"Please? I have a plan."

"Fuck."

"Name your price. I'll do anything."

"I want one of the robes."

"Dealsies." And with that she pulled him, willingly, up to the stage level, and just as they set foot atop it, the crowd began to applaud. It was showtime.

Chapter 3 -- The First Offering

Nicole and Caleb stood behind the co-ordinator, a pleasant-looking middle-aged woman with curly blonde hair and a constant smile behind her clipboard. She smiled at Nicole and then whispered something into her walkie talkie that Caleb couldn't hear for all the applause.

Suddenly, the overhead lights came on and the crowd hushed near-immediately, with the exception of the few stragglers now tip-toeing to their seats in a polite attempt to avoid distracting the people who had actually showed up on time and who were already seated.

"Distracting from what, though?" Caleb wondered. What had his wife gotten him into and how far was he actually willing to go...especially sober?

He could see a light turn on in a booth way at the back behind the bleacher seats, which he assumed to be the AV stand. Two shadows were moving in the little building, but he couldn't make out their faces. After a while, they sat down in front of what appeared to be microphones and right on cue a voice, older, huskier, with just a bit of a southern drawl came on, introducing himself as simply "Gary," in such a relaxed and familiar way that it left no doubt that everyone other than Caleb knew who Gary was somehow.

"Good evening, everybody, and welcome to our Spring Solstice event!"

He paused for applause and the crowd obliged with a smattering of enthusiasm and one over-the-top "woot!"

He then launched into a series of preamble announcements, including a forthcoming bottle drive, an update on a controversial chips vs veggie trays debate from a month prior, and a friendly reminder not to drink and drive, all of which felt nothing short of surreal to Caleb, watching a crowd of hooded figures surrounding a stage in the middle of a forest at night. The entire time, he could feel his body temperature rising in dread anticipation -- not knowing what the night would hold. He mentally commanded his knees to quit trembling, but quickly found them to be altogether insubordinate.

As Gary wrapped up his discussion on some sort of upcoming raffle, Caleb was just about ready to walk back to the parking lot and be done with it, but then he felt Nicole squeeze his hand and he turned to see her eyes sparkling with excitement. He squeezed it back, knowing with that gesture just how doomed he was, though perhaps not the exact nature of what was to come. But come it did.

Gary's voice lowered into something more serious than prior, as if rehearsal was over and the show was beginning.

"And with that, ladies and gentleman, let us begin the OFFERINGS TO DIONYSUS TO HONOR THE SOLSTICE!"

The applause was loud now -- not just polite, but maybe even a little raucous. Caleb could feel the energy in the theatre shift, abruptly. His first thought was that somewhere out there was another spiked punch bowl -- he longed for it, himself, but then came around to figuring that what the crowd was drunk on wasn't alcohol at all.

"We will begin then, with the first offering -- the offering of night, by which the ritual of Dionysus can begin!"

More applause.

"Is he going to murder me?" Caleb asked his wife, who only squeezed his hand tighter. It felt clammy now, and her smile had faded. She was biting her lip slightly and avoiding his gaze.

"No...but, you might murder me."

"What?" he asked. "What is it?"

"The first offering is all you."

"Huh?"

"Well, your clothes anyway. After that, I do all the work."

"Beg pardon?"

"Yeah."

The pleasant lady with the clipboard turned to look at them -- nodded once, then whispered something into her walkie talkie, at which point a spotlight shone in the centre of the stage, where Caleb could now see a pair of manacles and chains hanging from a rigging above, and some 6 feet in front of those, pointed away from the audience, sat a stainless steel chair shimmering brilliantly from the light sparkling down on it.

"You trust me, right?" Nicole asked, squeezing his hand more fervently.

"I'm suddenly not so sure," he answered sincerely, staring out at the brightly lit stage and the cold steel throne upon it.

"You'll like it."

"I will?"

"I have a plan."

"You do?"

The crowd was silent in anticipation. The lack of movement in the air was starting to feel awkward.

"OK, pony boy," the pleasant co-ordinator lady stated. "Show us what you've got."

Nicole nudged him forward and he started to step toward the spotlight reflexively. Instantly the crowd applauded yet again, giving him just enough blind momentum to take two more steps until he was just beside the chair at centre stage. He was doing pretty good...and then he wasn't. The awkward stillness returned as he stood there frozen, hovering in the thickness of the moment, all eyes upon him, unable to move like the frogs he used to catch at summer camp by shining a flashlight on them in the dark. All at once he understood what the frogs of his youth must have felt, blinded by an unseen predator. The crowd was out there, it was hung, and he could no longer see them with the spotlight in his eyes. They were just the darkness now, a mass of unseen mutterings, and a giant unreciprocated stare.

Finally, a woman's voice shouted: "take it off."

Someone else echoed the sentiment with a "yeah!"

Someone else offered a more supportive cat-call: "don't be afraid. This is a safe space and you're doing great."

"Am I, though?" Caleb wondered, tallying some quick mathematics on the state of his life and the events that had brought him to this place. He was a grown man fighting the urge to pee himself on a stage, like some 2nd grader at their first school play. He was an unparalleled success in his industry, someone looked up to, someone considered a leader, but here he was just some frozen noob unable to move. He wanted to move.

And then she was buy his side. With him there in the spotlight.

"Need some help," she offered, before adding "...pony boy?" just to needle him a little.

He almost laughed. He surely would have laughed if his body were capable of such a thing in this moment.

With a disarming tenderness, she pulled his tie unknotted and trailed it off of his neck to land on the stage floor.

"Tell me now if you want this to stop," she asked, unbuttoning his shirt next.

The crowd was slow-clapping now, rhythmically, like it was the bottom of the ninth and the Yankees had a man on base.

Caleb placed his hand over his eyes and found some resolve. "Keep going."

And she did.

It was only when he was down to his boxers and the clapping was at its loudest that he hesitated, clutching desperately at the waistband to prevent her sliding it down.