Virgin Sacrifice Ch. 01

Chapter One

"Paulie, want to see a human sacrifice?" my editor asked.

"Not unless you're the victim, Scotty." I didn't even glance up from my keyboard. Working for an alternative weekly newspaper was all glory, let me tell you. Not only do I get to investigate, write, edit, and typeset all my articles, I get to do it while my editor hangs over my shoulder and then changes all the requests he made in the first place. Then, of course, the copy editor winds up changing my formatting anyway. It's a living. Barely.

Scott Baford, called by the entire paper's staff Scott Botard instead of his chosen moniker of Scott "Scoop" Baford, ignored my comment. "This is on the level. You know that religious group way up north near the border that supposedly practices all sorts of old religious practices from pagan times?"

"Pagan times were concurrent with much of Christian history," I pointed out to him.

"Okay, pagan rituals. I think they're supposed to be modern-day druids or something. There are always rumors going around the internet about how they practice human sacrifice and all sorts of bizarre ancient rituals."

"'And it must be true because I read it on the internets,'" I purposely misquoted. "Where'd you get that piece of info: Wikipedia or the Imanutjob.com blog site?"

"Nope, from the Northward Freedom Ecologists' own website. I checked it out right after they sent me an invitation to their summer solstice celebration."

I glanced up at him. "You serious?" I asked.

"As a heart attack, stroke and cancer all on the same day."

"Going to pay my expenses to drive up there?" I asked. Puffery aside, if the Botard was serious about the assignment he'd pay me to go. I was seeing dollar signs already.

He held up an envelope. "Petty cash to get you started. Save your receipts and we'll reimburse the rest when you get home. Your contact is some woman named Lilith Woods."

I snatched the envelope out of his hand before Scoop could change his mind. "You serious about the name?"

"Yup, it's all there. I'll forward her emails to you."

I was excited by this: a vacation up north at the paper's expense. I'd take my girlfriend and make sure to get laid as much as possible, maybe even in the great outdoors.

Klare was hard at work her studio of our shared apartment when I got home. I took her paint brush out of her hand and started pulling off her clothes. "What are you doing?" she asked, not really protesting but more curious why she wasn't being allowed to continue her artwork.

"Stripping you," I answered. For some reason she still wore the same overalls she continually sported in college. They were now paint splattered and faded, but the clasps to the shoulder straps were easy to unhook and the denim clung tightly to her body, that's why I liked her in them. I liked her even better out of them. Once the overalls were off it was a simple matter of removing her white t-shirt and pulling down her cotton panties. Since she never wore a bra while working she was quickly naked. I pushed her back to the futon mattress shoved into the corner of her studio where she took naps for inspiration. It's also where we fucked when mood struck.

"Maybe I don't want to have sex right now," she said while laying back and spreading her legs. I kissed my way down her neck and over her chest—covered with blue and red star tattoos—down to her tiny, perky pink nipples. Today she was wearing gold rings in her nipples, each ring sporting dangling quarter-moon charm. I kissed, licked and sucked her nipples as she ran her fingers through my hair. "But maybe I can change my mind."

"That's what I'm trying to do," I said, taking a quick break from her nipples then started kissing my way down her tummy. I followed the line of starts that eventually evolved into a sinuous rainbow running over her belly button—unpierced because she declared that particular adornment the province of teenyboppers—and then down to her quim. She was shaved bald—apparently that particular affectation was not the province of teenyboppers—and the rainbow ended in a starburst right above her prominent clit. I had asked her several times how much time and money went into her elaborately beautiful tattoos. She refused to say, simply stating that any work of art is worth any amount of money.

A moan issued from between her lips. Her scent was strong today and her juices started flowing when I licked between her legs. "You taste heavenly," I told her, my words half-muffled by her fleshy sex. I could feel just the barest hint of stubble growing back. Shaving was allowed, but not waxing or electrolysis.

"Cock," she sighed. "I need cock, not your tongue." I didn't need any further encouragement. In a wink I was out of my clothes and plunging my prick deep into her cunt. She was warm, wet and ready. She was always warm, wet and ready, regardless of what she said she wanted. "Oh, that feels good," she sighed, closing her eyes and locking her legs around my waist. "How long has it been since we fucked?"

"This morning," I huffed into her ear. "You were half-asleep when I came in you."

"You're not supposed to have sex with me unless I give permission," she said, her fingers trailing down to my ass.

"You didn't protest," I said.

"You should have heard me complain when I woke up with a soggy pussy and a wet spot on the bed."

What could I do? You don't get out of bed in the morning right away if you wake up next to a beautiful woman. "Sorry. Now turn over."

She did as I asked, presenting me with her unmarked back and ass. For as much tattooing as Klare had done on her chest and abdomen, she had yet to decide what she wanted on her back. It was almost like fucking two different women depending on what side I was facing. I slipped my cock back into her, then pressed my thumb against the tiny brown rosebud of her asshole.

"Don't," she said, tensing up as I touched her and kept stroking in and out of her.

"You love it," I told her.

"I know," she sobbed.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Uh-huh." She was beyond words now. I thrusted a few more times into her, then carefully timed a quick thrust with my hips and my thumb at the same time, slipping by her outer sphincter. It was what she needed to make her cum, overfilled by my cock, thumb and spunk. She cried out in pain and pleasure. I loved hearing her excited cries. Never was she more beautiful than when Klare was cumming. Eventually we collapsed to the mattress and after a few minutes I pulled away my thumb and cock. She didn't seem to notice for she had drifted off to sleep.

*****

I was hard at work on my computer when Klare woke up and walked into my study. Naturally she didn't bother to get dressed; I think I've seen Klare more often with the clothes off than on. "What are you doing?" she asked me sleepily.

"Researching the Northward Freedom Ecologists," I told her.

"Why?" She still wasn't awake. This was part of her process of coming back to reality.

"New assignment. I'm supposed to go visit them and write up their human sacrifice rituals."

Klare blinked at me twice. Now she was awake. "You can't be serious."

"Serious as American obesity."

"Why?"

"That's what I'm going to find out. As for why I was given the assignment you'll have to ask Scoop Botard."

"When do you go?" I missed the tone in her voice, I was busy making notes.

"Tomorrow morning. Want to join me on a vacation up north all-expenses paid by the Capitaland Weekly? You can be my photographer."

"I have my show in two days. And this is my fertile period."

Shit.

"I'm sure you're already pregnant," I tried to reassure her. "We've has sex twice a day for the last week. And I'll be sure to fuck you tomorrow morning."

Wrong answer.

"You really don't understand, do you?" I'd seen Klare like that before. Fire blazing in her eyes, fury masked her face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked trying to deflect her anger.

"No," she turned on her heel, stalked back to her studio, slammed and locked the door behind her. Even her leaving wasn't all that bad. I got to admire the roll of her curvy ass as she left.

We had finally made the big decision to start a family, as it is colloquially know. Basically when Klare hit thirty she decided it was time to start having kids. She didn't need to get married, and since I was the boyfriend of the moment (and for the past three years) I was automatically chosen as the father-to-be. I went along with the plan. But four months after the big decision, still no baby on the way even after near constant fucking on our part. I could tell she was starting to get more than a little anxious. But I still needed to do my job, after at, it was my income that was propelling our little family-to-be.

Still, there was no use arguing. I did my research late into the night and went to bed. I checked the door to her studio. It was still locked. I decided it was her loss and hit the road in my ancient Chevy Corsica, the sedan of choice for moms of all ages in the 1980s.

About an hour north of the city is a sign proclaiming the Northway as the most scenic highway in the United States. I had to admit it was probably true, but not having driven on every interstate in the US, I couldn't say for sure. After three hours on the Northway and then another hour on minor state routes, I finally got to my destination.

The village of Hodspur was supposedly all owned by a single entity, some corporation that acted as fiscal agent for the Northward Freedom Ecologists. Nothing illegal about it, just strange. I was supposed to meet Lilith Woods at the town hall at noon. I anticipated finding the town hall more or less in the middle of the village, built in an early 20th century brick and pillar design. I couldn't have been more wrong.

The town hall was built on the edge of the village in a modern log cabin style. It was massive. Inside the building the offices were much like any other government building and I had no trouble tracking down Ms. Woods. And was I glad that I did.

Lilith Woods was a tall beautifully striking woman with blonde hair down to her waist, high arching eyebrows, lightly freckled skin, and an incredible body. She hid very little beneath her proper business suit; except for the fact her red silk blouse barely had enough buttons to close it over her prominent breasts. It was the kind of cleavage most teenage boys drooled over. I quickly shook her hand and sat down at her invitation in the office. This was a good thing, I was getting a stiffy and sitting allowed me to more easily hide my erection.

"So good of you to come see us, Mr. Dante."

"My please, Ms. Woods. Tell me, why have you invited me up here? I thought your group was...fairly secretive."

She smiled. It was a look that promised pleasures and one that warned of dangers. "I'm the director of communications for the Northward Freedom Ecologists. Some members of the press have been giving us negative coverage and we've decided to change that."

"Uh-huh. You do know of course that you're more often given the title of minister of propaganda rather than director of communications by those same members of the press that I'm part of."

A light laugh pushed away my concerns. "Of course I do. That's why I've invited one and only one member of the press up to see our annual summer solstice celebration. You should feel honored."

"Or manipulated."

"True. But I'll give you full access to many things so many other investigative reporters have been thwarted of seeing."

"Like human sacrifice?" I asked. No reason to be subtle. If I was going to piss off my girlfriend by being up here, I might as well make it quick if I was going home with nothing.

Lilith shook her head. "We don't practice human sacrifice, that's simply barbaric. And one of those many false rumors spread by those who seek to destroy us."

"Then what rituals does your sect practice?" I asked her.

Her brilliant smile almost won me over. Almost. "You'll have to witness the summer ritual to learn that."

I smiled back, keeping my thoughts to myself, and allowed her to take me on a tour of the village. It was all very bland and dull: a rustic village with modern trappings. Apparently the NFE was big on getting their members to move to the village and work for the corporation—either on their many farms in the surrounding area that grew all sorts of organic foods or in one of the offices where they did all sorts of internet businesses, at least according to Lilith. It was all some big, modern ideal collective straight out of the 1960s, but with the corporate control of the 21st century, odd as that was.

"So where do all the weird sex practices and human sacrifices take place?" I finally asked out of boredom.

"Behind closed doors and in bedrooms, like any normal community," she answered without missing a beat. "Except for the human sacrifices, of course. We stopped that back in the 1960s."

"You're funny," I complimented her.

"Why thank you," she replied pulling her car into a short driveway in front of a mid-19th century home. "I'm inviting you to dinner," she said flat out. "There aren't any restaurants in town, so unless you want to drive for an hour to eat, I'd suggest you stay."

I didn't tell her that I'd gladly follow her shapely ass anywhere, and if it included eating any manner of food off her naked flesh, so much the better. All thoughts of Klare were gone from my head. But I simply said, "Sounds delightful."

And it was. I remember very little of the house because the moment I walked in there was stunning beauty lounging on the couch reading a book. I stopped in my tracks and stared, wondering if Lilith had a twin sister, only ten times more beautiful. Long blonde hair, incredible sapphire blue eyes, perfectly alabaster pale skin; she was gorgeous. This incredible creature stood up, presenting me with a pair of breasts barely hidden by her low-cut, too-tight t-shirt. Her nipples were more than obvious beneath the thin material for she wore no bra. Like so many young women, her t-shirt was short enough to expose her midriff and belly button. Her shorts clung to her loins like a second skin; there was no evidence of any undergarment on her body.

"I see you've met my daughter Impatiens," Lilith said.

"Call me Ivy," the goddess on Earth said to me. "What's your name?"

I wanted to tell her that she could call me anything she wanted as long as she allowed me to kiss her feet, but somehow I managed to find my tongue, control it and tell her, "Paul. Call me Paul."

"Her name's not Ivy. Is it, Imp?" Lilith said.

"Impatiens Violet Young Woods," she said. "Ivy Woods."

"Clever," I said.

"Too clever by half," Lilith interjected. "I named her. Imp is a better nickname."

I couldn't say anything else; I was too transfixed by Ivy's beauty. "And the best part is she's no longer jailbait," Lilith told me, glancing at my crotch. I hoped that my raging hard-on wasn't too obvious.

"But I'm waiting to get married before I have sex."

The two women's laughter brought me out of my reverie and we managed to have a presumably delightful dinner. I don't remember any of the details. I only remember the part at the end, probably after one too many glasses of one, when Ivy had disappeared and Lilith and I were still talking at the table.

"I should get to sleep," I said. "Isn't your big solstice celebration tomorrow night?"

"Yes, but don't go to the guest house."

"Why not? Isn't it for guests?"

"Yes, but it's practically an old barn barely converted to proper accommodations for people. Stay here for tonight."

"You have a spare room?" I blinked. She was a little blurry around the edges and I wanted to focus on her beauty, to make her look more like her daughter.

"Several, but you'd be staying in my bed."

I laughed. What could I say or do? "I can't sleep with the enemy," I pointed out. "I'm a journalist and you're a PR flack."

"I'm sure I'm not the strangest bedfellow you've ever had."

That was true. And I found it hard to leave when she started unbuttoning her blouse, exposing her near-sheer bra. Underneath the thin material her cherry-red nipples stood out prominently. "Your daughter doesn't wear a bra," I said. I was drunk. It was a stupid thing to say.

"She's still a girl. She'll be a woman all too soon."

"I can't," I protested as she stood up and took my hand. She still had her bra on but I was sure it would be gone soon. "I have a girlfriend."

"She's not here," Lilith pointed out. "I'm sure someone else is keeping her bed warm tonight. Help keep mine warm," she requested, bringing my hand up to her chest.

I didn't hesitate and slipped my finger by the sheer material and cupped her tit while lightly pinching her nipple.

"I'll never tell if you don't," she whispered in my ear, then kissed the side of my neck. That was all I needed. Next thing I knew we were in her bedroom and she was pulling off my clothes.

In an instant she was on her knees, still in her bra and panties, taking my cock into her mouth. Since I was already stiff this was done out of her need to pleasure me rather than to bring me to attention. Judging by her enthusiasm and skill, it was hardly the first time she had done this. Lilith easily took all my length into her mouth, letting her lips meet my trimmed auburn pubes. When she hit bottom, she looked up at me, mouth full of cock, sighed, and slowly slid back, sucking hard all the way until she just had the head still in her mouth. Once there she continued to swirl her tongue around the sensitive tip and I was forced to push her away because I didn't want to cum too soon and I didn't want to waste my load in her mouth.

But she didn't let me go free either. One hand was still circled around my thigh, the other one was now gripping my balls, gently squeezing, keeping me stimulated and tight enough to keep me from cumming.

"Do you fuck every visitor to your village?" I asked. It was a rude question, but I wanted to keep her off balance, it was the journalist in me.

"I haven't fucked you yet," she pointed out. "This is just a blowjob. And the answer is now, I only fuck the cute or attractive ones."

"Thank you," I said without thinking. Then, "Wait, you haven't fucked me yet."

She laughed, loosed her grip on my package, stood up and stripped off her bra. Her breasts were even better loose than they were contained in the lacy material. High and firm, relatively small—no more than a B cup—and no droop even though, as I quickly calculated, she had to be at least thirty six years old, based on her daughter's revealed age during dinner. She then dropped her pants, revealing an almost perfectly flat tummy, just a slight bulge hinting at her age and past pregnancy. The tiny lace bikini panties she wore hid nothing from the imagination. I wanted to get on my knees and worship her pussy, but she had other plans.

"Get on the bed, face up," she ordered me. I had to obey; what choice did I have? She was on me in a moment, knees on either side of my hips, her hands caressing my face and hair, her tongue licking my neck and finding its way into my mouth. My hands slipped down her to ass and I began easing her rather modest panties down her legs. After only getting as far as was possible with her legs splayed wide, she rolled off me, stripped off her panties, then was back on me in a minute. Apparently she favored an all natural look, her blonde bush was full and barely tamed; this was quite a change from Klare's naked pussy. My girlfriend wouldn't go a day without making sure her pubes were shaved smooth. Lilith's grasping hand found my turgid cock and slipped me into her cunt. There was no resistance; she was wet and ready.

"Ooh," she sighed, turning her head and biting her lip, letting her hair fall into her face. "That feels good."