"Are we safe here?" Don asked in a hushed voice.
"Oh, yes!" Ralph laughed. "Cassandra's a sweet, kind person. She won't let any harm come to you, but ... well, it's just going to be intense, that's all. It all gives me the willies. Anyway, good luck!"
The girls all bid Ralph goodbye, and then he trotted off into the forest, which was already quite dark in the dusk.
"Please, Tascha, come with me," Cassandra said. While they went into the tent, a pair of red-robed women came up to Nicole and Shelonda and led them off toward the fire area. A tall young man approached Don and said, "Sir, if you will accompany me."
Don followed the man to a wooden chair that had been set off to the side, with a clear view of the altar without actually being close to it. The young man said, "During the rite, you will sit here until the Crone summons you. Do not participate in the ritual at all until that time. It is very important that you save yourself for the Crone. If you do not, she will know and be displeased."
"Okay," Don nodded. "Sit in the chair and don't have any fun -- got it."
"Oh, and remove your clothing."
"Um, all right," Don said. After disrobing and putting his few items of clothing, and his staff, on the ground next to the chair, Don sat down and tried to make himself comfortable, watching the robed witches go about their preparations. He wasn't surprised to note that everyone in what he was thinking of as the coven was in good shape, even though they seemed to represent a spectrum of different ages, from quite young -- like Nicole or Shelonda -- to as old as in their sixties, if Don was any judge of such things. Knowing what he now knew about Eros, though, Don realized that each of these people could be much older than their appearance would indicate, thanks to the rejuvenating powers of the XYZ they drank as water.
After the sun set Don was left alone in the clearing, as the others all disappeared into the big tent. Eventually, the group came out in a solemn procession -- one by one -- with Cassandra in the lead. Tascha came second and was wearing a white robe. The entire group made a circle around the pile of firewood, and most of them began to sing some sort of hymn the words of which Don couldn't make out. This went on for several minutes, until, abruptly, Cassandra raised her hands high over her head, and the wood in front of her burst into flame.
Well, that was certainly a neat trick,
Don thought to himself. He caught himself, though, and tried to make a point of not being quite so skeptical as usual.
After all, we're trying to play along with this world's rules here. Maybe things won't work if I've got the wrong attitude.
The witches had stopped singing now, and Cassandra took Tascha by the hand and walked her over to stand with her back to the stone altar; the other witches, along with Nicole, Shelonda and Amy, closed the gap in the circle. Facing Tascha, Cassandra raised her arms, with her palms up to the sky, and called out, "O wise mother who guides us and watches over us, we beseech thee to join us this night that the travelers among us may share in the gift of your knowledge and beauty."
The witches around the bonfire repeated Cassandra's words, and four of the men lit torches in the fire and placed them in holes Don hadn't noticed before. These torches were positioned about a meter from each corner of the altar. When the men returned to the circle, Cassandra reached out to caress Tascha's face lovingly. She called out, "O guardian of the portal, we offer you this supplicant who comes seeking knowledge and will give you that which you most desire."
Then, Cassandra untied the simple knot at the base of Tascha's throat that held the white robe closed. Tascha shrugged the robe off her shoulders and stood there naked in the firelight. If she was frightened or anxious Don could not see it in her expression or posture. Instead, she stood proudly, with her shoulders back and head high. To Don it seemed that it was Tascha, not Cassandra, who was the high priestess of this affair.
As the witches around the fire began a low chant, Cassandra took Tascha by the hand and led her to the foot of the altar, and up a set of steps Don hadn't seen earlier. Tascha gently knelt down on the altar and then turned around and lied down upon her back on the cold stone. Don was fascinated to see her bare, pale flesh in the flickering orange and yellow light. He experienced a strong desire to go to the altar then and ravish Tascha even if it did mess up the rite. Instead, he forced himself to sit still in his wooden chair, and kept watching intently.
Cassandra moved around to the opposite side of the altar, away from the bonfire, and produced a large pitcher that seemed to be made of clay. The witch proceeded to pour water over Tascha's naked body. From the sharp gasp and sudden tightening of her muscles, Don could tell Tascha had not expected this, but she lay still on the altar. When she'd emptied the pitcher over Tascha, Cassandra set the pitcher out of the way on the ground somewhere behind the altar, and then leaned over the naked, wet offering and kissed her on the lips.
Cassandra came around the altar and joined the circle of chanting witches. Once she was there, the group slowly began to move around the fire. The chanting became a bit more rhythmic, and the witches started to move almost as if they were dancing. One by one, each of the participants broke away from the circle to approach the altar and kiss Tascha on the lips. When they had kissed her, each one dropped his or her robe to the ground in front of the altar before returning to the circle. Nicole, Shelonda and Amy each took their turn in this kissing and disrobing ritual, as if they had done this kind of thing many times. As this went on, with an increasing number of naked chanting, dancing celebrants, the rhythm and pace of the chant very slowly rose. The dancers were now holding hands or had their arms around each other's waists. Finally, only Cassandra still wore her robe, so she returned to the altar, kissed Tascha again and exposed her own naked body to the fire-lit night. This seemed to be a signal to the others, for the chanting shifted to a much more rhythmic cant, and Don swore there were now deep, distant drums keeping the beat.
As soon as Cassandra returned to the circle, the dancing around the fire became more playful. Now sweaty bodies glistened in the orangey light. Don saw Amy moving along between two men, in each hand a stiff cock, while their hands groped her body. Shelonda passed by with a lovely young woman trying to get her mouth on Shelonda's beautiful heaving bosom. Nicole had allowed a man to catch her from behind and the two of them managed to move around the circle while he kissed the back of her neck and reached around to run his hands over her front. Cassandra danced past with the wanton sensuality of a belly dancer and a certain regal bearing, somehow both reveling in the energy of the rite and aloof from the playfulness rapidly spreading around the circle. The air seemed to be throbbing with the rhythm of the ritual chant, and the heat of the fire and rising eroticism flooded the night. Don looked over to the altar and saw that Tascha had begun to writhe on the stone. Her hands moved over her upper body and her legs rubbed against each other as she felt the aura of lust pulsing from the fire and the dancers. Don watched as she moved her left hand down between her legs, and he had little doubt what she was doing there. As for himself, Don's cock was lying thick on his thigh, growing harder as the rite progressed.
Looking back to the fire, Don saw that the dancing had now stopped, though the chanting and the unseen drums continued on. The witches and company were giving in to their desires. Nearby, backlit by the fire, Nicole, had fallen to her hands and knees, and the man who had been following her so closely was now even closer -- fucking her from behind. Don was unsurprised to see that Amy was kneeling between her two men sucking one cock while stroking the other, and then switching. He couldn't see Shelonda, but figured she must be on the other side of the fire. He could see Cassandra, though, straddling a muscular young man, her head thrown back and her breasts thrust up in the night air as she rode him.
When he turned his attention back to the altar, Don was surprised to see that a strange dark figure was standing there at Tascha's feet. Don almost sprang from his chair, but somehow managed to remember what he had been told, and resolved to sit still and wait. The figure, which Don presumed must be the guardian of the portal, was hard to discern at first, only a darker shadow in the night, but as Don concentrated it resolved into a tall, distinctly masculine form. Don was sure the shadowy "man" had long horns springing out of its forehead and sweeping back over its head. Tascha didn't seem to notice the creature's presence until it reached out to touch her ankle; the jet black hand seemed more like a talon at first, but then just a hand with long fingers. Tascha looked down to see the figure at her feet, but didn't seem frightened or even surprised. Don could see that she said something, but if there was any reply he could not tell -- he couldn't make out any features of the guardian's face, though he had the distinct impression that there were two fiery eyes of dark red in the shadows. Tascha parted her legs for the darkness and Don watched the claw-like hands moving over her relatively pale skin. As the shadow rose up and lowered itself over her, Tascha's hands left her own body and reached out for the dark shape. Her back arched as the shadows enveloped her. Don found it hard to focus on what was going on atop the altar. At one moment he saw Tascha with her head thrown back and a black creature with its mouth on her neck, and the next there was an almost billowing shadow enveloping her. Then there was a glimpse of her thighs and butt as they flexed while she was fucking the shadow enthusiastically. Her torso strained and tensed, and a mouth with sharp teeth was on her white breast. And then darkness swirled around her.
Don was aware that all around the fire the orgy had become general, even though the chanting and the sound of drums went on. He knew that Nicole was now on her back while a new man was between her legs, thrusting with nearly crazed lust. He knew that Amy was being fucked from behind while she took a cock in her mouth. He knew that Cassandra was passionately kissing one of her female subordinates, while another suckled at her tits and reached down to play with her, all while still riding her initial partner. Don could feel his untouched cock, straining painfully in its excited, engorged state. However, he could not seem to look away from the altar. Though he couldn't hear anything but chanting, drums and the moaning of the witches, he was sure Tascha was crying out in a long, hard orgasm. He could tell the shadowy creature on top of her was not finished, though.
"No," said a voice next to him, "he will not be finished anytime soon. His need is ... special."
Don looked up to see a woman with long white hair swept away from her face and down her back. She was watching the altar with a smile on her thin, red lips. Her dark eyes sparkled in the firelight as she went on, saying, "His phallus is so very hard, like a thing of steel wrapped in a tight sheath of leather. Not as big as one might imagine, but so, so hard, almost painful to touch, until it fills you and you feel his need becoming your own."
