He doesn’t, for the record, actually fuck a horse. Or get fucked by one.
He has a monthly ritual of nakedly bareback riding a horse at night, letting the motions and such both arouse him and hurt him, until he climaxes.
It involves sacred items of his own creation, an offering of sugar, and recitation of a sacred lineage. Sins are offered to this savior Slave-God, who takes them and rides them out and into the ground, the rashes and bruises on the boy’s body his penance.
And then, absolved, he is free to praise and express and desire his God’s physical form, to be joined to him as one magnificent creature, which makes him climax, and for a brief moment they ARE one.
They conclude the ritual in silent admiration, separated again. The tools put away, the clothes donned, the fresh wounds begin to heal.
That is ritual work if I ever heard it. And they made it into a play. The whole sacred kingship/riding the goat, etc….(sorry too buzzed to think straight). I honestly wished I had someone to go see this, but hubby wanted nothing to do with it.
