STAR TREK VOYAGER
Man to Worship
Fifteen years ago; 2037
As delicate as an ice-skater's prance across chilled ice, the young girl, just nine years of age, glided her slender fingers across the ivory keys of her piano. With each touch of the keys, Chopin's Piano Sonata No. 2 in B-flat minor began to unfold. Sonata No. 2 had long been considered one of the composer's greatest accomplishments. Noted for its swelling, almost stormy crescendos and its equally seductive valleys of emotion, the piece would often evoke emotions from not only those who were listening to it; but performing it as well.
The young girl, wearing an all-white dress, her piano playing immaculate to the ear, was nearly two-thirds of the way through the piece. The grand-piano she was performing with was situated in the center area of a very regal home. Three visitors were situated to the left of the piano on a soft, very comfortable couch. A man, a woman, and a young boy, of sixteen years old, watched as the young girl played on. And while they listened to the soft sounds of the girl's music, they could also hear the harsh sounds of pain coming from another room nearby. The sounds coming from the other room were the unmistakable sounds of a woman moaning; the moans were of an intimate nature, a sexual nature. And yet, through the sounds of the unseen woman's primal desires, the young girl continued to play on.
The older man on the couch leaned closer to the young boy, so as to whisper.
"This young girl has incredible concentration for her age," the older man said. "Even as her mother and father are in the torrent of passion, she is able to maintain focus on the sheet music before her. These are of the finest qualities of a woman, and cannot be discarded when one is considering taking one for a mate."
The woman, the older man's wife, also leaned into whisper to the young man.
"Listen to your father," she told him. "You are special Willard; that is why you have been given your choice of any young lady in the compound. This young girl, Ilya, is only nine years of age. If you decide to make her your mate, then she will be betrothed to you as of tonight in a most sacred ceremony. From this day forward, she will be groomed for the day when she is to become the vessel of your desires. She will know that the will of a man, his needs, his desires, are far more important than what she wishes. She will place you on a pedestal and worship you as her master; that is her destiny, should you wish it my son."
Willard Decker's eyes became wider with desire. He was sixteen years old, and already the hormones of puberty were flowing through his body. From the earliest days he could remember, he had witnesses his own mother's submission to his father's demands. He had heard her screams of pain in the deep hours of the night. And as he grew older, and met people who did not follow the ways of their spiritual leader, Father Sevrin, Willard could only feel pity for the outsiders.
The moaning in the other room ended as the piano playing came to a soft end. Moments later two people came into the piano room. They were Ilya's mother and father. Her father was wearing a casual shirt and pants, her mother wore a long gown, nearly transparent. The mother also seemed tired, and there were obvious bruises on her neck, arms, and legs, and her left eye was swollen. They came over to the three visitors on the couch.
"Have you reached a decision?" The father asked Willard. "Will you chose my daughter to be your consort through the approaching epoch of our world's salvation?"
Willard Decker watched as both the mother and father of Ilya, with Ilya watching from where she sat at the piano, got down on their knees.
"Please take our daughter as your consort," the mother prayed, her eyes closed. "I will make sure she is prepared for your union upon the day of her ascension."
"And I will make sure, with the back of my hand if need be," the father added, with his eyes closed as well, "that my daughter understands that the will of a man is for her to obey without question or pause; this I swear."
"Yes," Willard Decker finally replied. "I accept your daughter as my consort. I understand that I shall not see her again until her age of ascension. I accept your oaths to train her for her role as my vessel; the woman to whom I will release my desires upon without any need for moderation. She must know that when I use the back of my hand upon her face, it is because I love her and only wish to perfect her."
The man and woman opened their eyes. They stood up and turned to face their daughter. Ilya stood up and walked over to where her parents stood, and the visitors sat on the couch. She walked over to where Willard sat on the couch. Without being told, Ilya got down on her knees, not once breaking eye contact with the man who would one day control her; body and soul.
"I am yours," she said softly. "I shall await our union."
Willard looked up to Ilya's mother for the next part of the brief ceremony.
"And on that day of Ilya's ascension," Ilya's mother said to Willard, "I will play the Sonata as you two become as one. You are our savior; you are our guide."
With the ceremony over, Ilya and her parents joined hands and walked away. Willard Decker kept his eyes trained on young Ilya until she was out of view. He would not see her again until that day; the day she would forever belong to him.
Some years later, the day arrived. And as Ilya's mother played the Sonata No. 2 on the very same piano that Ilya had years before, the sounds of primal passion could be heard in the next room; Willard Decker and Ilya had become as one. Ilya's servitude had finally become reality.
Continued...
