The Golden Serpent Pt. 05: The Sacred Whore

Jack left the glass-fronted office building, into the cool night air. He strode through a carpark, lit by the orange glow of the streetlights.

As Jack left the depot, turning onto the busy main road, he realized that he couldn't remember talking to anyone at work. He couldn't even remember if his performance was up to scratch. His mind was on one thing, and one thing only: Sarah.

They had only been dating a few months. But those few months were the most fun he'd had in years. It was also the most sex he had experienced in years. Jack never thought that a woman as sexy as her, as smart as she was, would end up with a guy like him.

The thought struck him that he was becoming infatuated with her. Perhaps a little obsessed.

As Jack walked past a petrol station before the bridge over the River Plym, he wondered: how much longer would their honeymoon phase last? The fun times out on the town, followed by almost non-stop fucking -- surely this wouldn't last forever?

Jack walked past a small pub, with a couple marquees in the beer garden, blaring out dance music. Small crowds of drunk people danced and shouted into the night air, in view of the calm river.

Reaching the bridge, he looked out over the yachts moored at the harbour below, illuminating the river with their masthead lights.

Jack began to wonder if his obsession was taking over his life. He was supposed to be thinking about his financial future, and building a career. He had neither of those things. And how was he supposed to focus on pensions, mortgages, career training, all of those dull but necessary things with the thought of waking up in the morning next to Sarah and her magnificent body?

The nagging thought persisted. Why would a girl like Sarah stick around for him: a guy in his thirties with no direction, stuck for years in a low income job, and living with his parents?

Sarah's hobby was hosting a webcam show. She was a cam model. Hundreds of men every night were paying to see her tits on their monitor screens. She had so many options.

Granted, she wasn't exactly a high-flier herself. Her day job was stacking shelves in a supermarket. But one day, a man would come along who had more going for him. Jack knew this would finish the relationship sooner or later, assuming the honeymoon phase would end.

Past the bridge, Jack found himself walking down a street lit by the neon signs of takeaways. Across the road to his right was what had once been a large, important looking building -- maybe a government office or a courthouse. Now it had been turned into cheap apartments. Housing for students, mostly.

On Jack's side of the road, among the takeaways, were second-hand shops, vape stalls, a small Co-op supermarket to serve the needs of a community that was not exactly flush with cash.

A sudden noise in the distance. Girls, young women, screaming and laughing. He saw three silhouettes running towards him, their hair bouncing wildly.

Jack watched them enter the street light in the distance where he could se them properly. And he stopped dead in his tracks. Was he seeing them correctly?

He quickly realized that his eyes weren't deceiving him. These women were completely naked.

Three naked young women were running towards him in the street, laughing and giggling. Their bodies reflected the neon lights of the takeaways, and Jack got an eyeful of the bouncing tits of the woman to his right, closest to him. They were big -- almost as big as Sarah's. They bounced on her chest, over a slim body and beneath a face with a wide grin, and thick wavy hair. Was she blonde? It didn't matter.

The other two were also pleasing to the eye. While the blonde had the bigger breasts, the other two definitely had a handful, and were more pert. They seemed to have trimmed bushes, but Jack was mesmerized by their jiggling breasts.

They seemed to notice Jack too, laughing even more at the stunned look on his face as they passed him.

"Hey there!" the busty blonde shouted at him, wide grin on her face, as she jogged past him.

"Hi," Jack replied, distractedly, watching their bare asses in the streetlights as they ran off into the distance. He could still hear them laughing after they disappeared.

Jack stood there, semi-erection in his jeans, his heart racing as he tried to process what just happened.

He couldn't process it. He had no idea what the fuck just happened, but he was glad that it did.

Jack turned and carried on walking. He was glad not to be thinking of Sarah, instead thinking of that sexy blonde woman and her huge tits, jiggling in the light of the takeaway. Perhaps he would figure it out. Until then, it was another memory for the spank bank.

Jack got closer to the end of the street, where the cheap housing and takeaways petered out before transitioning into the City Centre.

More female laughter in the distance. Four more silhouettes jogging towards him in the distance. Was it happening again? Jack's rock hard dick really hoped it was.

And when they emerged into the street light, Jack's prayers had been answered. Four more naked young women, jogging towards him, screaming with laughter.

Two blondes and two brunettes. All four of them were slim, attractive, with tits that caught Jack's eye. He stopped to admire them.

The brunette closest to him had a really big pair of tits with dark nipples that could have been any colour in the street light.

As the brunette passed him, her giggling blonde friend shoved her right into Jack. She fell, tits first, right into Jack's arms as he automatically tried to steady her from falling. Feeling the firmness of those breasts against his chest, he didn't want to release her.

Still laughing, the brunette pushed herself away from his chest and got back to her feet, chasing after her friends.

"You bitch!" she cried out, as Jack watched her firm ass run off into the night.

Jack suspected that he might have cum in his pants, he wasn't sure. What the fuck was happening?

As Jack walked on, it suddenly clicked for him. It was that old student house party favourite -- running naked around your block. The girls had probably lost a bet.

Or it could have been some kind of student hazing ritual. Jack remembered the Rowing team at his University, doing naked pushups in the street after their tenth pint. All part of the initiation.

Whatever it was, he continued into the City Centre with a hardon and his head in the clouds, trying to hang on to the memory of everything he had just seen in the past five minutes.

Instead, it made him think of University. His student days were long gone, but they made his mark on him. Although he worked hard, and graduated with a decent grade, those years were tinged with regret. He didn't get laid once at Uni, something he never wanted to admit to anyone.

Jack was a shy, state school-educated kid surrounded by loud, confident, grammar school students. And he had great times with them. He felt like the Charles Ryder to their collective Sebastian in a bargain-basement version of Brideshead Revisited.

But his confidence levels could never match theirs. They had an aura of wealth, charm, and potential that outshone his aura of poverty and desparation. The girls in his circle hardly ever noticed him. What little attention he received from other women never concluded with them going back to his bedroom.

Three years later, he graduated with a good grade in a useless liberal arts degree, and even less self-confidence than he had when he started. And so back to Plymouth he went.

But that dark cloud of regret that hung over him lifted when he met Sarah. He just hoped that this rare period of fun would last, just a little longer.

He reached the City Centre. Loud gatherings of teenagers gathered in the lights of a McDonald's, while groups of people walked between a Carribean-themed restaurant and a taxi rank.

Jack walked towards Royal Parade, considering whether or not to get the bus home, or to walk. He was tempted to get the bus.

Walking past McDonald's, towards the quieter part of the City Centre, a figure stepped gracefully towards him in a pair of high heels.

She was blonde, wearing a leather jacket open over a very low cut top that exposed her mid-riff. Her cleavage was barely contained by the dark top that was tied together at the front.

Her shorts were possibly denim -- Jack couldn't quite tell in the light. But whatever they were, they were very short, displaying her well-toned thighs.

Her make-up was heavy -- dark mascara and red lipstick. She had probably shoveled on that foundation.

"Alright, love?" she said. "Are you looking?"

"Sorry?"

She didn't seem to register Jack's confusion. She beamed at him.

"Are you looking?"

Of course. She was a prostitute.

It seemed uncanny that a prostitute with an amazing body was to show up, just as he was deep in thought about his sparse sexual history.

He briefly considered Sarah. They might be serious one day. Or she might ditch him for some other asshole. Either way, they weren't serious at this moment. And an opportunity had just presented itself.

"I am now," Jack replied, with a hint of uncertainty. Was he really about to fuck a streetwalker?

"Shall we go back to your place then?" she asked.

"Ah..." Jack hadn't anticipated this, "I don't have my own place, not right now. I'm living with family."

By "family", Jack meant his parents.

"That's alright," she replied. "I know a place we can go, follow me."

"How much are you charging?" Jack asked. "I don't have much cash on me."

"We can sort money out later," she replied. "Let's go somewhere a little more secluded."

Jack became suspicious. She didn't expect cash upfront? He didn't know much about business was conducted between prostitutes and clients, but he always imagined that money was discussed before anything else happened.

But then, what did he know? Jack's horny mind decided to just go with it.

Jack followed her into an alleyway that led into a carpark between two shops. She led him into a corner and stood in front of him.

"Here," she smiled at him, as she untied her top from the front.

Her heavy tits fell beneath her top. She pulled her top and her leather jacket open, offering Jack a view of her perfect tits in the pale streetlight.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"They're perfect," he replied. He felt his cock bulging against the inside of his jeans.

"Go on," she said. "Cop a feel."

She took his hands and placed them on her tits inside her jacket. He felt her hard nipples against his palms. He felt the smoothness of her skin and sheer firmness of her breasts against his hand, as he massaged them in his palms.

She looked at him with a glint in her eye, that he assumed to be a reflection of the street light. Jack was rock hard by the time she gently moved his hands away and tied her top back up, having to lift each breast into position behind her top.

"Did you like that?" she asked.

"Of course I did," replied Jack, a little lost for words. She still hadn't charged him. Was this a try-before-you-buy thing? Like a sex worker's equivalent of giving out samples?

"Well, come with me if you want to see more," she replied, leading Jack out of the carpark, back out into the street.

The thought of money was starting to ruin Jack's horniness. He wondered if she was going to lead him to a brothel where some pimp and his heavies would extort money out of him.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Listen," she said. "I know the perfect place to go. There's a party at one of the most prestigious manor houses in Devon. Come with me, we'll have a great time."

"You still haven't told me how much you're charging."

"Don't worry about it," she said.

"I don't have much on me right now. If you're going to charge, you will have to tell me while I can still get to a cash machine."

She sighed.

"Oh, I dunno. Thirty bob."

"Thirty what?"

"Pounds."

Did she say "bob"? She was talking like his nan. Jack wondered if this was the slang kids are using nowadays.

"Thirty pounds?"

"Yeah."

She was too good looking to be this cheap. But Jack wasn't going to argue. He didn't know the going rate for a shag nowadays, but he was sure this was pretty low. Perhaps streetwalkers charge less, he wondered.

"Sorry if you think I'm pushing the boat out," she said, noting Jack's pause.

"No, no, that's fine. I can pay. So where are we going?"

"We're headed to the Courtenay Manor, just outside town."

Jack thought that he needed to be more suspicious of this. What was she going to do for thirty quid?

But as they walked to a taxi rank, Jack's horniness won out over his paranoia. He wanted to see more of this woman's body, to experience the pleasures of her flesh. Whatever was going in this Manor house party, it would be worth the risk.

The taxi took them somewhere to the north of the City. Jack's new companion was called Kelly. She had a funny way of talking, using slang his grandma would use.

At one point, the taxi passed through a business estate, with high, glass office buildings. She seemed unusually interested in these bland, corporate offices.

"Ooh, where'd that building come from?" she said.

Jack shrugged.

"I dunno."

"How's long it been there for?"

"I don't go this way often," Jack said. "It's a bit out of the way."

"I've never seen it before."

"Are you from around here?" asked Jack. Maybe she was from a completely different culture. Or maybe it was drugs.

"Yeah, I grew up in Plymouth." She looked away suddenly. "I, erm, I moved away though."

"Where to?"

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, avoiding eye contact.

"London," she said, eventually. "What about you?"

"Same, kind of," said Jack. "Grew up in Plymouth. Moved to Bristol for a little while. Came back."

"Ah, we have much in common," she said, before gesturing to the driver. "Excuse me, sir, could you stop here please?"

The taxi stopped at a country road, lit by one streetlight. They got out. Kelly paid the driver.

"Where the fuck are we?" asked Jack.

The whole time, he judged himself to be on the outskirts of Plymouth, where the city bled into the surrounding Devon countryside and the smaller towns and villages.

"Mind your language, young man. We're about to meet Isabella, who will assess your suitability to enter this gathering."

"Assess my suitability?" Jack snorted. "What are you talking about? What kind of party is this?"

Kelly's language was getting stranger.

"An exclusive one. Not just anyone can come in here."

"So you dragged me out here, in the middle of nowhere, to a party where I might not be allowed in?"

"Calm down, dear," Kelly replied. "I wouldn't have taken you here if I didn't think you could get in. You seem gentlemanly and well put-together -- your shoes, your jeans, that nice jacket. You're clean and nicely dressed. They'll let you in."

"Alright. Let's see this Isabella then." Jack followed her down a dark, unlit lane through the woods.

"Holy shit, it's dark right now," he said. "Do you know where you're going?"

"It's not far off, love."

In the distance, Jack noticed lights through the trees.

As they got closer, the trees thinned out suddenly, revealing a sprawling estate. A huge, classic English manor house stood in the centre of the grounds. The gardens and statues were lit up by the lights from the windows.

Jack found himself walking down a wide gravel path lined with statues and well-trimmed bushes.

"I had no idea a place like this existed out here," Jack exclaimed.

"I'm glad you like it," said Kelly. "We can't go into the house just yet though. We have to meet Isabella in the chapel."

They walked around the manor house. The lights were on, but Jack couldn't see any activity. Beyond the curtains, he noticed a long dining table, mahogany chairs, and chandeliers. Maybe everyone was upstairs?

The chapel was a small building to the side of the manor house. The interior was lined with a few rows of seating before a marble altar. An effigy of the Virgin Mary holding the infant Jesus was in an alcove at the far end, lit by rows of candles. The stained glass windows contained images of what Jack took to be Saints, with wide circular halos.

Sat at the front pew, facing away from them, was a figure in a covered in a purple robe.

"Isabella?" spoke Kelly.

The robed figure stood up and approached the altar, turning slowly to face them. A tall woman, about Jack's height, maybe an inch taller.

She had pale, sharp features, and dark wavy hair, revealed when she pulled down the robe to her bare shoulders. Jack judged her to be in her early to mid thirties. Her bright blue eyes stared directly at Jack, with a mixture of curiosity and intensity.

"Kelly," spoke Isabella. Her voice was low and seemed to reverberate through the room. "Who is your friend?"

"This is Jack. Jack, this is Isabella."

Jack forced a smile, although her unblinking stare was unnerving.

"Pleased to meet you Jack," smiled Isabella. "Are you here for our little get-together?"

"I am," replied Jack. "Although I understand that I have to be...assessed. For my suitability."

Jack glanced over at Kelly, who was saying nothing. Isabella grinned more widely.

"So Kelly has told you," said Isabella. "Did she tell you how you would be assessed?"

"No."

"Come here," Isabella beckoned Jack towards her.

Jack approached. Isabella turned and put a hand on the altar.

"You see this altar?" she said, turning to stroke the marble surface. Jack noticed that there was no altar cloth. Or any crucifixes.

"Well," she continued. "before you can be a part of our gathering, you must make a sacrfice onto it."

Jack stared at Isabella's piercing blue eyes.

"A sacrifice of what?" he asked.

Isabella opened her robe and dropped it down to her waist, revealing her immense, perfect breasts. Her pale, unblemished body looked like it was carved from marble, like the Blessed Virgin behind her. Her nipples were pink and erect, making her look more human.

"You must spill your seed on this altar to the Dark Goddess before you may enter our chambers."

Jack paused. He had so many questions. And with so much blood suddenly rushing to his dick, it was difficult to know which ones to ask.

"Is this some kind of...initiation? Like a hazing ritual?"

Isabella's eyes seemed to light up further, which Jack didn't think was possible until she stared into his eyes.

"An initiation? Yes, it certainly is. I don't understand what a hazing ritual is, but it is definitely an initiation."

"Are you charging for this? You know, money?"

"All we want is your seed, young man. And then you may enter our chambers of pleasure."

Jack heard the slap of Kelly's leather jacket against the wooden pews. He felt her breasts pushing against his arm. He turned his head to see that she was topless, her dark top on the floor at her feet. Her hand was on his ass, as she breathed against his neck.

"Well," he said, "you've sold me."

Isabella reached forward, trailing her hand down his stomach towards his belt, unbuckling him, while Kelly rubbed her big, firm breasts up and down his arm. They both pulled his jeans down, along with his boxers, half-way down his thighs.

When Jack's cock sprang out, Isabella grasped it at the shaft, holding it for a moment. He felt her cool, light touch, tickling slightly as she reached down to cradle his balls in her long fingers.

Kelly still had her hand on his ass, but she reached up inside his T-shirt with the other one, running her hands up and down the muscles of his chest and stomach.

Isabella reached back up to his shaft, and started tugging his cock, slowly, but getting faster.

Jack knew he wouldn't be able to last long. Everything he had been through this night had kept him on the brink of sexual arousal. If he had been in a more rational frame of mind, he probably wouldn't even be here.