Sophia's POV
The days blurred into a haze of candlelight and scripture after that first night on the altar. My body still hummed from the forced orgasm Father-Husband had drawn from me with prayer. I called him that now in my mind, even if my lips sometimes stumbled. Richard, my father felt strange, distant, wrong. But I still understand that he was my god, my Husband, my everything.
“On your knees, Sophia,” he commanded again this morning in the chapel, his voice deep and reverent. The silk prayer ropes dangled from his hands.
“Yes, Father-Husband,” I whispered, dropping before the altar. My knees ached against the cool floor, but the pain felt holy. He blindfolded me with a soft black cloth, plunging me into darkness. “Recite the longer submission while I train your throat.”
I opene
