The Golden Serpent Pt. 07: Handjob of Glory

"What are you doing here?" asked Isabella.

"I'm...curious," said Sarah.

"Are you tempted, spirit? Do you want to come in, out of the cold?"

"Yes."

"You were once living, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"And now you're not anymore. It's lonely out there, isn't it? What is your name?"

"Sarah."

"Can you come to us in human form, Sarah? Can you possess the mind of a suitable vessel?"

"I can try," said Sarah.

"And can you tempt a man to come with you? Tempt him as we have tempted you?"

"Okay," was all Sarah could manage. She found communicating like this to take a lot of concentration.

"Good," said Isabella. "I look forward to seeing what form you will take. You may leave now. Or not. As you wish."

Isabella turned and sat back down on the front pew. Sarah turned and drifted out of the door, rushing out of there as fast as she could.

Sarah came back into her body on the futon, in another dim, candle-lit room. She sat up on the futon.

"Fuck me," she said. "I did it."

###

9pm. Tom was sat in the back of a taxi with Sarah, now wearing a low-cut turqoise dress. He could occasionally glance at her fantastic, pale cleavage in the street light as they headed out of the city, into the countryside.

Celia and Gabriella had met him in the drive of her estate. They put the two of them in a taxi rather than one of her Mercedez or limos, so as not to around suspicion.

"So," said Tom. "You know what you're doing, right?"

"Kind of," she replied.

"That's not reassuring."

"Do you know what you're doing?"

"Go in to some chapel, feign enthusiasm about joining their cult, and then see what happens."

"I really hope Celia and Gabbie know what they're doing," said Sarah.

"No shit, me too."

"Remember," said Sarah. "I'm the one who tempted you here. I approached you, pretending to be a prostitute. You're just some horny idiot who thinks he's going to a party."

"Okay," said Tom. "And then what?"

"Celia is sending someone in to rescue the guys on the top floor, maybe in the mine as well. So we have to stall them for as long as possible."

"Stall them for as long as possible. Right," said Tom.

The taxi stopped and they got out onto a country road, lit only by a single streetlight. The taxi drove off, leaving the two of them, slightly bewildered.

"Do you know where we're going?" asked Tom.

"I think so," said Sarah, looking around. She noticed a path leading into the trees.

"It's this direction, I think we have to follow this path."

Tom followed Sarah into the trees, down a long winding path. His eyes adjusted to the dark well enough, although he and Sarah still held on to each other as they walked.

Eventually they saw lights in the distance. Emerging into a clearing, they came to the Manor.

She gasped. It was exactly as she saw it over an hour ago. It wasn't a fantasy, or a dream.

"I know where the chapel is," she said. "Follow me."

Sarah led Tom through the grounds of the Manor, towards the chapel, still lit by candles streaming in through the door. They both paused before the entrance and looked at each other.

"Do you think you will be able to...perform?" asked Sarah.

"That shouldn't be a problem with you in the room," smiled Tom. Sarah smiled back.

"Fuck it," said Sarah. "Let's just do this."

Sarah walked in first, Tom following.

Tom walked a few paces into the chapel and stopped. The first thing he noticed was the Virgin Mary icon above the altar. He had a flashback to the dream he had that night, with Danielle.

This icon was half the size of the one he saw in his dream, but the resemblance was uncanny. Too uncanny. He remembered standing on the cold flagstones with Danielle, both of them naked. He remembered the fear in her eyes.

"Tom?" said Sarah.

He stopped to look at Sarah, into her eyes. He was dumbstruck for a moment.

"Sarah?" A woman's voice.

They both turned to see the woman in the robe, stand up from the pew and face them down the aisle.

"Isabella," replied Sarah, in recognition.

Isabella smiled.

"You came! And you brought a guest. Come forward, the pair of you."

Tom followed Sarah to the altar, not taking his eyes off the Virgin icon.

Isabella looked Sarah up and down, and then at Tom as they walked down the aisle.

"You're beautiful," Isabella said. "Both of you. You will both make a wonderful addition to our congregation."

Isabella stepped forward and reached a long finger towards Isabella, placing it on her chest, running it down between her breasts. Sarah gasped at her cool touch.

"Don't be shy," Isabella said, opening her robe. She was naked beneath, her huge pale breasts revealed in the candle-light. "You have picked a very suitable vessel."

Isabella took both of them by one hand and placed their hands against her breasts. Tom was surprised by the firmness of them, despite the way they sagged slightly.

Isabella ran her hand down Tom's chest.

"What's your name, young man?"

"Tom."

"Well Tom, to come in, we require a contribution from you."

Isabella's eyes followed the length of his body as her hand drifted down to his belt, holding it.

"We're having a party in the Manor," she said. "And you would be very welcome to join in."

"Sounds good," Tom replied. "What sort of contribution are you looking for?"

Isabelle smiled at him.

"We all go through this the first time. Consider this our way of assessing both of you for suitability. But don't worry," she said, unbuckling his belt. "I don't think either of you can fail this little test."

"Well," said Tom, looking over at Sarah, glancing down at her amazing cleavage, "we should probably get this done so we can join the party."

"That's the spirit," said Isabelle, unbuckling his jeans, revealing his boxers. "As I said, Sarah, don't be shy. Join us."

She fingered the strap of Sarah's dress. Sarah looked over at Tom with a smile and a glint in her eye, as she pulled down her dress, revealing her breasts in the candlelight.

Tom's cock was already hard, straining to get out of his jeans when Isabella's fingers found their way behind the waistband. Her cool touch grazed the front of his thigh as she pulled his boxers and jeans down to his knees, releasing his cock from his underwear.

###

Francesca clutched the vines that ran up the walls of the manor, and hoisted herself onto the balcony. She was impressed with herself that she could climb like this in high heels. Her athleticism and stealth had been honed by years of pole dancing, elite level martial arts training, and sneaking out of young men's bedrooms before their parents came home like a ninja doing the walk of shame.

With her back flat against the wall, she peered into the torch lit corridor, before striding in. There was no need for stealth now -- she was dressed the part. Her thigh high boots resounded on the stone flagstones. She allowed her black fur coat to billow behind her in the breeze, revealing her black leather thong, her gold nipple pasties, and the dagger sheafed to a garter on her thigh.

Around her she could hear the muffled noise of beds creaking, men and women moaning in the distance. She remembered that Jack was in this corridor.

She found the door to his room, slightly ajar. Peering in, he was still there, naked on that bed in the light of the candlebra.

She entered and closed the door behind her. Jack was unconscious, pale and thinner. His limp cock seemed to be the only part of his body that had any colour in it. It had to be red raw by now, Francesca thought.

###

Tom's jeans were around his ankles now, as he was stood right up against the altar, between two attractive, topless women. His shaft was hardening in the hand of Isabella. Tom avoided the gaze of the Virgin Mary before him by gazing at Isabella's amazing breasts.

Sarah pressed herself against him. His upper arm was between her breasts as she slowly rubbed her body up and down his. She ran a hand down his chest, down his stomach, before caressing his balls as Isabella slowly pulled on his shaft.

Tom started to breath more heavily as his cock became fully erect, trying not to think about Sophia. This was business, after all.

###

Beneath the chapel, in a torchlit cavern, Gregor stood alone. Torches adorned stone columns that did not look like they were built by ancient Britons. Gregor was no archeologist or historian, but they looked Roman.

Isabella had told him that Roman's wanted nothing to do with their Goddess. So where did the columns come from?

The altar before him was definitely not as sophisticated, at least not in it's current state, having only just been excavated. It was basically a stone slab mounted on a pile of rocks.

But the altar, the stone columns, were not the focus of his attention right now. He was staring into the face of the stone idol before him. In the stone wall, just beyond the altar, was a face. It was a crude face, with hollow eyes, large enough for objects to be placed inside. It's mouth was open, just a hole.

The upper torso was also emerging from the earth, revealing this idol to be a female. Her huge breasts seemed to be the result of better craftmanship than the face. While the breasts were like the Venus of Willendorf, the face was like something a child would make in a daycare centre.

Perhaps the face was damaged, and just needs restoration, Gregor thought to himself.

Gregor walked up to the idol and ran his hands down the idols face, allowing himself to run a hand down further along it's smooth stone breasts.

Gregor withdrew his hand suddenly, taking a step back when he noticed himself becoming transfixed by the idols hollow eyes. He knew where this would lead. He didn't want to be one of those thralls outside.

"Soon I will complete my end of the bargain," he said to the idol. "I hope you will remember what I'm doing for you here."

###

Above ground, Tom breathing was getting more rapid as his handjob was getting more intense. Isabella's hand was pulling on his dick more rapidly, as Sarah pressed her firm tits against his body and rubbed his balls in her soft palm.

Tom looked up at the dark ceiling, trying to prolong his orgasm for as long as possible. He thought of Sophia, sat on her sofa, wondering where the fuck he was.

But then he thought of her body, her amazing breasts against him. He thought of fucking her in the shower the night before. Then he realized that thinking about Sophia was really not helping the situation.

###

Francesca stood against the wall by the door. Jack was still unconscious, but she could hear the clacking of heels against flagstones, making their way down the corridor.

Francesca dropped her fur coat to the floor, before flattening herself beside the door. It wasn't the most practical garment to wear in combat.

A young woman entered the room. She had bright blonde hair that ran down her back, over a skimpy black dress.

This woman approached the foot of the bed and climbed onto it on all fours, looking down on Jack as she came level with his chest. She stroked his hair.

Francesca only had to move two steps around the side of the bed. The woman gasped, looking straight at her as Francesca's knee shot forward, striking the woman on the side of the head. The woman flew off the bed, landing on her back. She lay on the floor, her hair covering her face, not getting up.

Francesca moved around the bed and checked on her. The woman was still breathing. She wore thick mascara and blue eyeshadow. Her mouth was slightly parted over her perfect white teeth, with dark red lipstick.

She's going to wake up with a headache, and a seriously stiff neck, Francesca thought to herself, as she turned to check on Jack.

###

Sarah thought that Isabella was being a little greedy. She was not letting go of Tom's cock, and was starting to pump away furiously. Sarah was still caressing his balls while she rubbed her body up and down that muscular arm of his, running her hands through his chest hair and over his pectorals. She could see that he was resisting -- he was looking up to the ceiling, eyes closed, breathing heavily.

At times she would be eye level with Isabella's breasts. Sarah tried to distract her by reaching forward and touching one of them. Although they were a little saggier than hers, they were still very firm. She squeezed her breast like she was testing a melon at a fruit stall.

Isabella didn't seem to notice, focused on Tom's cock, trying to make him cum as fast as possible. Sarah playfully tweaked her hard nipple. It didn't work.

Then finally, Tom sighed, as an arc of semen shot over the altar. The marble surface glistened with the large cumstain that formed over it.

Isabella wiped the last drops of semen from his cock with her hand, rubbing it between her fingers.

And then something changed. Sarah could sense a sudden shift in the atmosphere. And she knew that Isabella could sense it too, by the look of confusion that crept over her face.

Tom, blissfully unaware, started pulling up his jeans.

"Well that was great," he said. "So where's the party?"

Isabella looked at Tom. She looked around the chapel. And then she looked down at herself before wrapping the robe back around her. She took a few steps back, looking at the two of them.

"Look, sorry to break it to you guys, but there is no party."

Tom paused while buckling up his jeans and looked at her. She sounded different. Her voice had a higher pitch.

"Isabella?" said Tom.

"That place is a fucking trap. Get out of here while you can. This is no joke," said Isabella.

Tom and Sarah looked at each other. Now they were confused.

###

Jack's bloodshot eyes flicked open. He looked up to see a pretty blonde woman stood over him -- a different one this time. She wore a black fur coat, but he could see that she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. He could see what looked like her bare, well-shaped breasts in the candle-light.

"Jack?" she said.

Jack sat upright on the bed, leaning on his elbows.

"Hello?" he responded. "Who are you? I've seen you before."

He glanced over, noticing the other woman lying unconscious on the floor.

"What the fuck happened?"

"I'll tell you later. Are you okay? Can you get up?"

Jack sat up on his elbows.

"Yeah, I feel quite good actually."

"Good. I'm here to help you get out of here."

"Why?"

They were interrupted by the sound of screams from the other rooms. Doors were slamming, while women in heels ran through the corridors.

Francesca went to window and looked outside. She saw the silhouettes of men and women in the light from the Manor, running onto the grounds. Some were fleeing into the trees. Others were stumbling aimlessly around the estate.

"Come on, there's no time. Put your clothes on, we need to get out."

Jack frowned, and reached for his jeans.

###

Before Tom and Sarah could say anything, Isabella bolted out of the chapel. Screams and shouts could be heard in the grounds outside.

"What the fuck are we supposed to do now?" asked Sarah.

"Who gives a shit, we've done our job. Let's get out of here," Tom replied.

Tom finished buckling his jeans while Sarah pulled her dress back up. They followed Isabella out of the chapel, back out into the night air.

On the grounds outside was chaos. Scruffy men in filthy clothes and scantily clad women were milling around the grounds. Some were running into the forest. Isabella was gone.

"Fuck," said Tom. "What's happening to this place?"

The small groups of people dispersed into the forest around them, some screaming in the distance. Tom and Sarah turned to see a man in a dark suit walk from behind the chapel.

Although it was dark, Tom recognised him in the light from the Manor windows. It was the man from his dream. The man who tried to warn him off. It was Gregor Davidovitch.

Tom froze.

"Who are you?" said Gregor. He seemed more fascinated than threatening. "What did you do?"

Sarah grabbed Tom by the hand and ran. Tom followed, looking behind him at Gregor, now a still silhouette in the light of the Manor house.

They found the same path from which they came in to the estate. Sarah tripped, and Tom helped her up to her feet.

"Slow down," he said. "No one's after us. I don't know what the fuck is going on, but I don't think anyone is chasing us."

"Who the fuck was that?" said Sarah.

"No idea," Tom lied. "Some nutjob. Let's just find our way back to the road, and we'll take it from there."

Tom and Sarah emerged onto the road, to find a black Mercedez waiting for them in the streetlight. Tom half-expected Francesca to open the door, but instead it was one of the guys he normally saw guarding Celia's estate. He knew that under his jacket, this man would have a gun holstered. This nameless, unsmiling man would be their chauffeur back to Plymouth.

###

11pm. Jack was sat in Celia's lounge, on his second bottle of spring water. The first was on a coffee table in front of him.

"Is there anything else we can get you?" asked Celia. "Would you like to take a shower?"

Jack reeked of stale sweat and dry semen. Celia was already considering calling in someone to steam clean that couch. She stood a distance away from him, alongside Gabriella and Francesca.

"Later," Jack replied. "First, I just need a pad of paper and a pen. Or pencil. Whatever. Can you get that?"

"Francesca?" said Celia.

"Got it." Francesca left the room, still in her fur coat.

"What do you need that for?" asked Gabriella.

Jack had a thousand yard stare, seeming to look into a dimension beyond this room as he spoke.

"When I was in there, under their spell, I saw things. That spirit -- that Dark Goddess -- whatever they call it. It showed me things. Ancient things. I need to get them down onto paper before I forget them."

Francesca came in and placed a pad of paper and a ballpoint pen on the coffee table.

"Thanks."

Jack got straight to work, hunched over the coffee table. Gabriella watched as he started scribbling frantically.

"I'll leave you to it," said Celia. "Francesca, darling. Come with me."

Celia left the room with Francesca in tow, as they went up to her study. Celia stood at her window, watching the lights of the small town below. Francesca reclined into a seat near her table, crossing her long legs.

"So Francesca, what happened to the rest of the hostages?"

Francesca thought of the young woman she left lying unconscious on the floor.

"They scattered into the woods," she replied. "They'll be scared, but they'll live."

"They'll find their way back, I guess. Sarah and Tom will be back soon. We should tell Sarah that Jack is here. Probably best not to tell Jack what Sarah was doing with Tom in there, though. I understand they were both...close."

Francesca nodded.

"That's wise."

Gabriella walked into the study.

"I don't know what happened to Jack in there," said Gabriella. "But whatever it was, it changed him. He could be useful to us. Very useful."

Celia looked at her.

"What do you mean?"

"Jack is in your lounge, writing down a modern day Necronomicon. There's invocations in strange, forgotten languages. Diagrams of strange ritual implements I've never seen before. An entire grimoire of charms, spells and ancient rituals. Pages of this stuff. He's going to need another pad."

"Well, as long as he showers afterwards. Sarah isn't going to want to see him in this state."

"Yes, Sarah," said Gabriella, with a glint in her eye. "Our astral traveller. Sarah and Jack could be our first power couple. Sarah is the most capable psychic spy I have ever met. And Jack is definitely a powerful sorceror. He has more occult knowledge than our entire group combined."

"So you want both Sarah and Jack in our network?" asked Celia.

"Absolutely. They will be very useful assets for us."