Hello lovelies. Here is the first of a two-parter, describing our heroine's first visit to a Pagan Ritual.
Disclaimer - not all Wiccan/Pagan/Witchcraft rituals involve nudity. Very few involve full-on sexual coupling. However, this is Literotica and I reserve the right to make full use of my artistic licence.
I've decided to have a play with (settle down) some Artificial Intelligence language tools. I've inserted an edited version of an AI generated text into a section. I would be interesting if you would add a comment to let me know where you think that might be. Just an experiment - no prizes.
Happy reading.
***
The rest of the week was fairly mundane, apart from, you know, an almost homeless couple searching for somewhere to live. The same responses over and over. Sorry, can't accommodate under-twenty-fives; Sorry don't take unmarried couples; Sorry, we need references from your last two landlords; Sorry, your primary earner doesn't have permanent full-time employment (what!).
We had an offer from my mum and dad, and another from Jay's parents. There were, of course, conditions attached to both offers; "but only my daughter;" "only our son!" Or words to that effect.
Sunday arrived.
"So? Are we going to the spooky witch house?" Jay asked.
"Oh, I don't really..."
"Come on. You heard what Ted said."
We'd mentioned our invitation to Ted during the week. He'd advised us that modern witches are not what you see in the movies. They aren't haggard crones with warts that cast spells on people that look at them funny. They don't look like Christopher Lee, tall and dressed all in black, wearing a signature ring displaying secret sigils. They don't practice what writers like Wheatley refer to as "black magic" and they don't perform human sacrifices. Most of them don't even dance naked around a bonfire. And no one is likely to be burnt in a giant wicker man.
"It's a bit weird, though," I objected
"We go to the Spiritualist Church, don't we?
"That's a bit... It's not... that's diff..." I was finding it hard to justify one and not the other. "Okay. Once! Out of curiosity."
Number 42 didn't sound that far away from 16, but these were massive properties with rambling driveways. The house we sought was about half a mile from us. It felt like the same distance from the road to the front door. Unlike the building that housed our humble abode, with its short front garden, this was like walking through a golf course.
We reached the front door, for which we had to climb four steep steps, and pushed the bell. In the far distance I heard the Avon chime, which surprised me. Jay saw the look.
"What? Expect the Addams family bell? Wait for the eight-foot butler gargling gravel."
"Fuck off!" I punched his arm.
The door creaked open until it revealed the beaming smile of our new friend George. "Hello young Sandra and Jay." Come in. I hesitated while I inspected his body from his smile to his bare feet and back up his green robe to his face. The robe, tied at the waist, was a deep forest green and resembled an ankle length kimono but made of a material that looked like cotton. It probably was cotton. Jay had stopped a few feet into the hallway, his head turned, watching.
"Oh, we only wear the heavy black cloaks outdoors when it's freezing," he explained. "These are summer and indoor robes."
"Green?" I queried, looking again. Though he was at least as old as Ted, George, I still struggled to imagine a witch called George, was tall and slender, though not skinny. I imagined he had an athletic type of body under there.
"Well, mine is. We don't have a colour code. Wear whatever colour speaks to you here."
Jay held out his hand, which I took, feeling the comfort of his presence, making me feel somewhat safer.
"Straight down the hallway to the end and turn right, through the kitchen into the garden room," George instructed. We complied and George followed close behind.
We found the garden room through the kitchen, as George had suggested, and through wide patio doors. My eyes popped, and I gasped through my open mouth as we passed through the open door into an all glass room that extended into the estate-like garden. Even with the outdoor illumination, I could not see where the garden ended.
Larger than our bedsit, the garden room floor was tiled in a black and white chequered pattern, much like a giant chessboard. In the corners were the biggest cheese plants, rubber plants I'd ever seen. Hanging from the roof was what I now know to be bougainvillea.
"Take a seat, if you can find one," George offered. I looked around at the gathering or about a dozen people, some in robes of various colours, some in casual street clothes, some sitting on traditional seating, while others sat on bean-bags or large floor cushions. One was standing by the garden door. Some were drinking from wine glasses. "Come on, make room for our new guests."
"Here you are, loves," said an attractive woman who seemed to be about George's age and dressed in the same green colour as him, which enhanced the Celtic redness of her hair. "I can make room for one over here." She shuffled everyone along what looked like a large three-seater rattan settee to make a fourth space. Jay nudged me and I sat down in the space just uncovered. "Hello love, I'm Jennifer. George's Wife."
"Hi." I responded. "I'm Sandra, or San to most people."
"Not Sandy then."
"No! No ever Sandy."
"People have died for less," said Jay, who'd walked over to join us.
"There you go, young people," said George, handing two glasses of dark red liquid. "Don't worry. Not blood. It's just redcurrant juice. We saved the blood till after the sacrifice." George chuckled at this as my face betrayed my fear.
"George! Behave!" An older woman opposite called. "He does this every time we invite someone new."
"That's my mother." Jennifer spoke to me.
"Your mother?"
"Oh, yes. Three generations here. My mother Georgina." As she pointed, the older woman waved. "And my daughter over there. Say hello, Trisha." She pointed at the standing girl.
"Hello. It's Raven." Trisha was a slender, black-haired stunner about the same height as me, dressed in a black robe. She wore purple lipstick, which matched her eye shadow, lined with black. I'd never seen make up like it.
"Sorry. Raven. She's eighteen; nineteen in a couple of weeks. You wouldn't think so; she looks so young. We named her Patricia, but about five years ago, she decided she wanted to be called Raven. How silly is that?"
"It's not silly." Raven was indignant. "It's my Spirit name."
"I'm teasing, my love."
"Forgiven." Raven then smiled with the radiance of an angel, belying her sultry, gothic look.
I looked up at Jenifer's hair; she noticed. "Oh, that's not her real colour. Raven is as red as a tomato underneath that sleek stallion's mane of hers." She laughed, as did Raven. I took a gulp of my drink. "Oh, we'll have stronger stuff later. We don't drink alcohol before a ritual. Rule, you know."
"Okay," I said, not knowing why.
Jay, who'd been remarkably quiet till now, choosing to observe, spoke. "Aren't there supposed to be thirteen in a coven?" The entire room fell silent as twenty eyes turned to stare at him. Mine joined in.
"Shush, young man." It was an accented woman who spoke. I guessed at French. "That's a myth spread by, erm..." She thought for a moment. "Ignoramuses."
"It's just people like Wheatley that insist on the thirteen poppycock," George informed us.
"And we don't really refer to ourselves as a coven," Georgina said. "We are a circle. Much simpler and less, shall we say, sinister."
"Sorry." Jay looked embarrassed.
"Not to worry, young man," said George. "Common misconceptions. You're not the first, nor will you be the last." He glanced around. "Speaking of which, time to prepare for the sacrifice. Oops, I mean, ritual." He winked at Jay.
"Come on Sandra, dear." Jenifer stood as she spoke. "I have some robes for the two of you to use." She held out her hand, which I took. "You can bring your drinks." She grabbed Jay's free hand and led us out, back through the house to the stairs.
***
We entered a large bedroom, which boasted a prominent double bed with brocade counterpane and what looked to be a lacquered mahogany bedroom suite. The chest of drawers held an ornate bowl and water jug. In an alcove was a built-in washstand with gold-coloured taps.
"This is one of the guest bedrooms." Jenifer informed us.
"One of them?" Jay spoke.
"Yes, we have six guest rooms. This is the largest. Then there is mine and George's at the far end and Trisha's, I mean Raven's across the from her. Two more guest rooms across the landing, one with its own bathroom, and three on the next floor up." She was matter of fact about this, not bragging. "There is another bathroom between the tow over the and we've got one in our room.
"Wow!" Jay seemed impressed. "A mansion."