They rolled into Blue Earth five days later. It was almost midnight. Pastor Jim had the front porch light on for them and they could see the warm lamp light in the living room of the parsonage. Jim opened the door as they stamped the snow off their feet and hauled their bags inside. When Dean and John took off their coats Jim hung them on the rack beside the door and motioned them into the room. They spent a few minutes huddled in front of the fireplace, and Jim brought them spiced cider in white ceramic mugs. They sipped at the drinks unwinding and getting caught up. Finally, Jim looked away flushing red. John caught on that he had clearly found something out.
Jim cleared his throat. "I need to ask you something, John. I need to be very straight forward here so forgive me if I trespass…"
John smiled, "Don't I have to?"
Jim nodded, smiling a little. "That's my line, John. Have you and Dean had sexual intercourse while you were a woman?"
"You ask that as if you think we had done it before I was a woman."
Jim shrugged, "The common line among our kind is that you and Dean are very close, if you understand me."
John looked appalled. "I'm his father, and they think that we're screwing? Nobody's ever said anything; you'd think they'd be disgusted enough to make a scene."
"It’s a dangerous world we live in, John. Hunters take comfort where they can. If you and Dean take comfort in each other no one is going to begrudge you that."
"I would have thought that you, at least, as a man of the cloth would be offended by it."
Jim took his hand squeezing it gently. "John, you of all people should know me better than that. I've seen true evil, and I save my judgments for those we hunt, not those who hunt with me."
"So you found something out?"
Jim nodded pulling out a book. "I believe so. I do need some information to be sure. In the days immediately preceding the change did you argue with or insult a woman, maybe turn someone down who tried to pick you up?"
"Dean asked me that already. And I don't think so…wait there was one girl in the bar Dean and I went the night before. She was way too young, and I don't pick up girls in bars, anyway. I think she thought that I turned her down because she was a big girl. But she was pretty enough--I just don't. Maybe she didn't believe me."
Jim nodded. "I think that's the key. I believe that you ran afoul of a Bastet worshipper. Bastet was the Egyptian Earth Mother Goddess. She protected wronged women, and a curse to make a man live the life of the one he wronged was commonly used. What better way to make a man live the life of a woman scorned than by turning him into a woman?"
John nodded. "That makes sense. We've done some research and we came up with something along that line. The only thing that tripped us up was the way to break the curse. What we tried didn't really work."
"That's why I asked if you had sexual intercourse."
"The answer is no. We worked a little along those lines, but not completely in that direction." Dean said flushing under Jim's steady gaze. Jim smiled warmly. Dean felt like a fool.
John blushed as well when Jim turned to him. "This working along those lines didn't involve penetration?"
"No," Dean and John said in unison. Jim relaxed visibly. They glanced at each other.
"If it had John would be like this for the rest of his life. Bastet was a protector of women but she had an unusual moral code apparently a man turned by this curse had to suffer the indignity of losing his virginity to a soldier in Pharaoh's army, and during the time period involved that almost certainly meant by rape. So, in order to break the curse John has to sacrifice his virginity on Bastet's Altar."
"Doesn't sacrificing a virgin sort of go against the whole protector of womanhood idea?" Dean asked. Jim shook his head.
"I didn’t say sacrifice a virgin I said sacrifice his virginity. He has to be broken open on the altar in the proscribed manner."
"Oh shit," John snapped. "Who has to do the honors? Can I do it myself with something or does it have to be a male partner."
"Male partner." Jim added apologetically. "Since you two sort of got the thing rolling along Dean should probably be the one. But if he can't since you're his father…"
His face was crimson and Dean took pity on the older man. "No, I'll do it."
"Oh thank god. No offense intended John. I mean, look at you, any man would give his eyeteeth to be in Dean's place. I just, well, man of the cloth—pre-marital fornication not exactly acceptable, unless you'd be open to the whole marriage bed idea."
"Not really Jim, in the end I'd be married to you but I'd be a man. I don't think your parishioners are that open-minded?"
"We're a surprisingly progressive church."
Dean grinned. "He can't cook and he's a lousy housekeeper. He'd probably make a terrible wife."
Jim grinned as well. "Oh well, ships passing in the night. We do have some work to do to prepare an altar. There's a cave on the hill, we can put a couple of tent heaters in it, and fashion an altar on one of the rock ledges. It'll be uncomfortable, but this is an act of penitence so comfort doesn't really figure into it. We can dress you both in choir robes with the appropriate Egyptian symbols printed on them."
They spent the following morning with two ivory colored choir robes, one for Dean and one for John, tracing Egyptian symbols off of printer paper onto the cloth. After John had methodically printed the symbols in his neat block printing Dean filled them in with tempera paint from the Sunday school class.
Hanging the robes on the coat-rack to dry, they dressed in jackets and work gloves and followed Jim through foot deep snow drifts to the cave in the hill just above the parsonage. The path was slippery and Jim and John went ahead with shovels clearing the way while Dean carried two tent heaters in a cardboard box. The cave was actually pretty big. The roof was high enough that all three men could stand upright and not worry about hitting their heads. Of course, that also meant it was freezing inside, and John was not looking forward to coming in later dressed in nothing but the thin robe.
There was no snow or ice inside the cave itself and along the back wall ran along a long hip tall shelf of rock. It was thick and solid and as wide as a twin sized bed so there wasn't any problems with both John and Dean laying on it. Jim brought out the sheaf of pages he had printed off the computer, and the tempera paint. He sketched out the symbol for the altar and Dean and John painted in on the altar in red paint.
They had to make another trip back to the house to get the cloth and dried herb bundles they had made to dress the altar. Dean was relieved when they found the interior of the cave decidedly warmer after the tent heaters had been on for an hour. By the time they were finished bathing John and anointing him in scented oil the cave would be almost as warm as the house.
John stood in a large metal washtub, shivering in front of the wood burning stove as Dean poured melted snow—the only water available that hadn't been pumped into the house in modern plumbing, over his head while Jim chanted the prayer of invocation to the goddess. When the last of the water was dried off Dean spent the next thirty minutes rubbing scented oil on John's skin while Jim chanted yet another prayer, this one for forgiveness for John's sins against the wronged woman, whoever she had been.
Finally, dressed in nothing but the robes John and Dean walked up the path to the cave. It was very warm inside after the frigid climb up the hill. Jim was functioning as the guard, and dressed in several layers of flannel and denim under a heavy coat with a scarf around his head he stood just outside the cave watching for anyone who might interrupt. Dean wasn't sure if the heavy woolen scarf was to actually keep Jim's ears warm or to muffle any sounds that might escape from the cave, but he was grateful Jim seemed to be maintaining a serene equilibrium about the situation. It was going to be awkward as hell going back down that hill with John as a man, because Jim was going to know just exactly what Dean had done to get him that way.
At the last minute Jim turned to them. "Just remember John is a penitent this is not for his pleasure or enjoyment. Dean you need to be forceful and dominant for the ritual to have the desired effect."
"Great that would be a lot easier if he wasn't so little."
Jim shook his head. "No, him being small is what is going to make this easy. He can't fight you. Just do what you need to do, and vacate. As soon as any blood hits the altar the change will be instantaneous."
Dean grinned at the older man. "Vacate, you make it sound like a fire drill."
John rolled his eyes. "Damn it, Dean. This is supposed to be a solemn occasion."
"Sorry, I'm a little nervous that's all." Dean said.
John walked across the cave and settled on the altar. He had his robe on backwards, and the part opened allowing his bare back to come into contact with the painted stone. The tent heaters had warmed the air but the ledge was still cool to the touch and he shivered. Dean had his robe on forward so that he could open it only as much as was necessary to get the job done.
He settled on the ledge beside John pushing the robe up to bare John from the waist down. He ran his hand up John's legs and John parted his thighs. Dean rose up pulling robe out of the way, and knelt down between John's legs. He took a deep breath and slid his hand over John's groin to make sure that the oil he had stoked over John's skin hadn't rubbed away. He worked one finger inside John just to the first knuckle and it slid in smoothly. John flinched at the intrusion, but he nodded. Taking a deep breath Dean leaned over John and guided his cock to John's opening.
He pushed in and encountered some resistance. John moaned pushing his hands against Dean's chest. "Wait, that hurts."
Swallowing hard Dean grasped John's hands in each one of his own and pressed them down against the rock ledge and pushed inside. John's eyes went wide and he gasped. Grunting Dean rocked back and thrust in one more time to be sure. He slid as far in as he could go, and John's face twisted in pain. Dean felt tears rising in his eyes, and pulled back sitting back on his heels.
John's body jerked and Dean could see ripples flowing over the surface of his skin. He seemed to stretch and grow and Dean was reminded of the werewolf he had killed and the way the body had roiled and rippled as the creature transformed into its human counterpart.
In a few moments John was laying on his back beneath Dean his wide shoulders and chest straining the smaller robe to the limits. Gasping for breath he tugged the fastening on the robe open letting it fall to his sides. Dean reached down and scratched his fingers through the day old stubble on his chin and cheeks. John smiled brushing his fingers along the path that Dean had followed.
Sliding his had down John's chest he followed the ridge of muscle along the thin line of hair between John's nipples over his bellybutton and down to his crotch. Without a moments hesitation Dean slid his fingers around his father's dick and tugged. John actually laughed out loud. But the laughter died in his throat when Dean kept working him until John was hard. "Dean," he gasped. "Maybe you should stop. I don't think this is a good idea."
"Shut up." Dean said. "I know exactly what I'm doing. I want this and I'm going to get it.
You're going to get every bit of that forceful and dominant that Jim was talking about."
Dean leaned over pressing his lips to John's mouth and slid his legs up John's thighs. John groaned when Dean's hand left his cock and slide between his cheeks. He had oiled John very thoroughly and two fingers slid in without John so much as twitching. Before his father could protest he dropped onto the broad chest, and thrust up and in. John was raging hot inside, and tighter than he'd imagined and Dean was pretty sure that he wasn't going to last long. He propped himself up with one hand and got a grip on John's cock with the other. One good trust and he hit John's prostate and John was coming all over his hand. Dean made two more good thrusts and he grunted through his orgasm with his face buried in his father's neck.
"Holy shit, Dean. Not that I'm complaining but what brought that on?"
"I didn't want my raping you to be the only thing you got out of this." Dean said not looking up at John. His father lifted Dean's head off his chest, and looked him straight in the eye.
"You didn't rape me. I came in here knowing what was going to happen. If you hadn't done it right it wouldn't have worked. I'm fine. I just hope we're good."
Dean smiled pulling out of John and sitting up. "We're good."
"So this is something you can live with, you and me?' John asked frowning. Dean smiled and dropped a quick kiss on his lips.
"Hell, I want it. Can you live with it?"
"I guess we can just take one day at a time, just like everything else."
"I can live with that."