The mist hung low over the ground as the little group moved slowly towards the old church. "Are you sure you are ready for this?" the leader asked getting an affirmative nod from all present "It's not like we haven't done this ritual before Peter calm down." Olivia said.
"Ok here goes then." Peter slowly opened the old wooden door, creaking loudly on its rusty hinges.
The group hastened inside "Right we all know what to do, Kathy, you light the candles, everyone else take your positions." Peter ordered.
Silently the group spread out as the flickering candles slowly lit up the disused church. Peter stepped up to the Alter and turned the cross upside down.
After lighting the candles, Kathy then pulled the rug away revealing the pentagram carved into the centre of the floor, and took up her position at the base of the pentagram.
Peter opened up a book then beckoned Olivia forward "Right take your rightful place as the sacrificial being." Olivia stepped onto the pentagram and laid down, her head at the top of the star. Peter reached down, pulled her white robe apart exposing her breasts and stomach.
Returning back to the alter he gave a signal the rest of the group started a low chanting. Kathy took hold of Olivia's legs and moved them apart before setting to work removing her gown so she lay on the pentagram totally exposed and naked.
Peter read a passage from the book that had been translated from an ancient parchment. The air in the old church chilled and the candles flickered. Peter gave another signal and as one the rest of the group pulled their robes open, letting them fall to the floor so they stood in a circle nude.
Reading more from the text a strange mist gathered, moving slowly around the group, lingering longer around the female naked forms.
Olivia, looked straight up at the ceiling, and saw the mist hover over her, suddenly disperse, blowing out all the candles. In the darkness she felt someone on her hips and a second later something push into her pussy. Looking down she saw a figure over her, felt a beard brush her lower breast, then felt a tongue graze her nipple. She knew it was Peter fucking her.
Olivia tensed around Peter's dick, her muscles trembling with the feel of him sliding in and out of her hot core. Heat flushes over her skin and her fingers claw at the ground as pleasure and pain become a small fire within her. She bites back a moan tries to resist pushing against Peter as he shoves himself into her with all his strength. Icy air seemed to slide over her skin and dark shadows darted through the darkness above but Olivia wasn't concerned, because Peter was driving into her, hard and fast until she couldn't hold back a groan of pure pleasure.
Within a minute Peter came inside Olivia as she cries out as her orgasm washes over her.
The rest of the group weren't idle either, as the scene on the pentagram was repeated by the rest of the group one by one, when the sexual moaning had finally abated. Peter scrabbled around until he found a candle lighting it called out "Is everyone ok?"
"That was incredibly intense," Olivia whispers and slowly gets to her feet, her muscles still trembling with her orgasm.
"Come on we better get out of here, we will meet up in the morning"
Kathy urged. Covering up the pentagram and righting the cross they left, more hurried then when they'd entered the church doors.
Next morning Peter and Mark who had only just joined the group were discussing the night activities "I love that ceremony Mark, it always leads to a great fuck," Mark smirks.
"I can't argue with that."
"But there has to be more to it than that."
"How?" Peter quizzed.
"Well, I can't for the life of me, see why an ancient text would be used just for an orgy for our behalf." Mark replied
"Have you got the original document?"
"Kathy has it in her safe; it was translated by her grandfather years ago."
After taking a sip of coffee Mark added. "Maybe he translated it incorrectly."
Two days later.
Kathy handed Mark the parchment "Be careful Mark it's a little fragile in places."
Mark nodded and slowly unrolled it onto the table "Pete do you have the translated version with you?"
"Yep here you are, crikey what language is that in?"
"Well it's a mixture of things actually."
"How many times has the ceremony taken place?"
"We have done it four times now at the height of the full moon."
Kathy said "Always the same result, a raging orgy." Blushing as she said it.
Looking closely at the translation and the text Mark looked up at them both "You're not going to believe this but this is a siring ritual for Satan himself. The translated text has been deliberately changed so it won't work!"
"You are telling us we could create Satan's child with this ritual?"
Kathy said excitedly
"Exactly this is a huge discovery" Peter gazed at the parchment with renewed interest.
"What were we doing wrong then?" Kathy leans over the table to look down at the strangled words drawn onto the old paper in ink.
"Well for a start you need to perform the ceremony in the spring," after taking a swig of coffee Peter continues slowly, eyes scanning the translated version, "at the first quarter of the moons cycle. The conductor of ceremonies must be a woman and get this the offering has to be an unwilling participant!"
"Oh my god, really!" Kathy exclaimed.
"The offering has to be painted on the stomach with..." Pausing, Peter's eyes scrutinized the document, "...I can't decipher that at the moment but I think with an upside down cross and restrained across the Alter, not the pentagram."
"You were right then. Mark, dare we meddle with this any further?" Peter turns to the other man in the corner. He purses his lips and doesn't comment, confusion covering his face.
"It's mind blowing. Wait until we tell the others." Kathy added with glee.
"I know what it is painted with! Semen!" Peter says catching the word in the translated papers script. "It must be applied externally. If any gets inside, Satan will reject the offering."
Finally Mark steps forward and peers at the paper. "Does it have to be a virgin?"
"No, but she must be of childbearing age, not older than thirty according to this," Peter mutters.
Mark frowns and shakes his head. "At least the chants were correct. So it's the ceremony that needs the makeover."
"Where to find an offering will be the challenge." Peter said gloomily.
The following spring --
Jennifer James sat at her desk writing with her latest sports report, looking over it work with displeasure. "Sometimes I hate football." She cried into her hands.
"What's the matter Jen?" Her fellow reporter asked "It's this write up of Saturday's match, a nil-nil draw and the only exciting thing that happened was when the linesman slipped over on an orange peeling."
Laughter filled the office "Aw come on guys, I'm serious." She pouted sighing deeply as she hit the send button and posted the report to the editor anyway.
Mark sat at his desk as Jennifer's report filled his inbox reading the boring write up, he had a wicked idea. Picking up his phone "Peter I have a candidate for our party set the ball rolling."
"Excellent." Came the reply "now listen carefully we have one shot at this I'm going to send a reporter up to the church"
"If you can give her something to keep her interested she will want to return and complete the story."
"Ha I see then we get her involved."
"That's right my friend."
"Leave it to me, Mark I'll sort our end out."
Replacing the receiver and pressing Jennifer's desk number took less than five seconds "Hi Jen can you come through to my office please?"
"Yes of course Mark." He heard her reply shortly before the call disconnected.
Jen walked into Mark's office nervously twisting her hair "Ah Jen, come on in." Mark beamed.
"I'm sorry that football report was a bit lame."
"A lame game by all accounts, you can't help that. Now I have a job for you, It might be a red herring but I need a reporter to check it out, and everyone else is covering that by-election. So I need you." Mark says leaning back in his chair. "Really what's the story?" Jen asked
"I received a phone call about some strange goings on in a village on Dartmoor."
"What sort of goings on?"
"Well the caller has alleged Witchcraft. It is probably a load of tosh but pop up and investigate for me will you. They said that it looks like most of the activities happening near the church"
With her mind racing Jennifer asked "Where am I going."
"Oh that would help, wouldn't it. Its Wemtor, they have a new cricket pitch so that will be your cover story for going there. Keep digging and report back to me on Friday, but keep it quiet."
"Ok." Jen says rising from her seat.
"Oh don't forget to file your expenses and good luck." Mark watches her leave. Once his journalist is no longer in sight her shakes his head and grins. Too easy he said to himself.
Jennifer went out of the office that evening with a spring in her step, armed with some info on the village she headed excitedly for home.
Perusing through the guide books and other info apart for the new cricket pitch, nothing of note had happened in the last forty odd years. That night she fell into bed with her mind still circling around her new project.
'Nothing else for it I'll have to pay the village a visit and cheek out the church' she thought as she drifted off to sleep.
Next morning her mobile rang "Morning Jen I have set an interview up for you at one o'clock, with Peter Lark. He will show you around the village and the cricket pitch."
"Ok, thanks Mark, I won't let you down, I'll get to the bottom of this."
"I know you won't. Stay in contact if you need anything and I'll touch base with you on Friday."
"OK bye."
After driving over the spectacular scenery of Dartmoor Jennifer arrived at Wemtor looking at her watch she was amazed how long it had taken her to get there. Exiting her car she walked around the small village square noting the telephone box, Public House, and Post Office a totally unremarkable English village.
