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Writer's picturedonnylaja

ritual

It seemed like half the town was in attendance, of all ages. There was a pre-service picnic which I had missed. Then the big gong and the service began. There was incense and chanting, the old man and the four young women, in their long ceremonial robes and headdresses, the wooden sandals with socks. Now, to my surprise, the Ama appeared from behind the curtain. Wordlessly the brown nude climbed onto a table in front of the altar, and got onto all fours, then down onto her elbows. Facing the crowed, she joined in the chanting, which seemed to be the same ten or so syllables, over and over. As she chanted her heavy breasts, almost extending down to the table, swung to and fro.

One of the miko got behind the Ama and spread her buttocks. The Ama’s eyes bugged out as she chanted. It was perfectly obvious what the miko was doing with her tongue, and it utterly surprised me. Anal licking! Here in conservative rural Japan! Now another miko knelt down behind. The Ama gasped and continued chanting, more labored now. She skipped the occasional syllable and tried to keep up with the keeper and the other miko. I could picture two female tongues, one noodling through the Ama’s anus and into her rectum, the other twirling around her clitoris and laving her labia. I was squirming in my seat, thinking what it must feel like. The Ama’s big nipples scraped the table as her breasts quivered and shook. Her eyebrows twitched crazily and her distracted eyes seemed to look individual people in the eye as her glance darted around. I was horrified that her eyes would at some point lock onto mine but fortunately they didn’t.

A normal female reaction was inevitable. The Ama’s breathing got heavier and she started to sweat. She could only chant a word or two now. Meanwhile everyone else started joining in the chant. Were these folks as familiar with the signs of female arousal as I am? They had clearly seen this before. Their chanting got louder as the Ama rose up to the crest. Then she stiffened, her sightless eyes rolled upward, a pregnant moment . . . then the mighty scream. With her well developed lung capacity I swear it could be heard a mile away, from her shed. The two miko behind her hung on to her butt for dear life as she bucked and bucked, each spasm shaking the table.

It was obviously a very powerful orgasm, the kind few women can achieve. But -- I know this sounds strange -- it didn’t seem like she was enjoying it. It seemed like an ordeal that she was required to go through, like scourging or mortification (to cite Christian equivalents).

And it was not over. The Ama gritted her teeth and grimaced as the two young tongues kept up their assault even when they should have stopped. I have had clumsy lovers do this after orgasm and I know the pain of hypersensitivity the naked woman was experiencing. Now the two other miko came over and pulled her breasts to the side. They stretched their mouths over the distended nipples and began not too gentle sucking. It was more like chewing, from what I could see. A second orgasm followed. And then a third.

The powerful jolts must have shook her to the core. After the last had spent itself the Ama collapsed onto the table, falling onto her side and then absently sprawling out her legs, leaving her crotch open to the crowd, catching her breath through a wide open mouth, her eyes closed as she faced upward. The chanting stopped and the keeper said a final prayer. Then more incense, and the gong, and the service concluded. The miko tidied up after the keeper and they all left the altar. Everyone filed out of the shrine, leaving the Ama sprawled on the table, lying in her own juices, exhausted, naked, abandoned and alone.

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