Bad Penny (32 page)

She was very much the driving force behind the Coven of the Silver Moon, though, and she also had a thing about me. This was mainly because she resented my imperturbable atheism, but I could tell that there was more to it. It was an odd sensation, being fancied by a female student, especially as she clearly found her emotions hard to deal with. Having been through the same myself, I was sympathetic and would have been more than happy to guide her gently into bed, had it not been for our positions. Seducing students is generally frowned upon, although not specifically forbidden. On the other hand, she was studying fine art and I taught only within the natural sciences, so there was no possibility of me ever examining her. There would still have been a fair-sized scandal if we'd started a relationship, so I hung back, tempted, yet never allowing myself to lose control.

As term went by, I became better friends with them, especially Poppaea. In her, I could sense a measure of the way that I knew Amber felt about me. She was so tiny and fragile that I just wanted to cuddle her and stroke her long green hair. She also used to make little gestures that may or may not have been conscious, but which I recognised as acts of submission with a very definite erotic undertone. By the end of term, it was driving me crazy, and my resolve not to touch her was beginning to falter.

There was a full moon just before the end of term, and Poppaea, Ella and the others were intent on making it a major ritual. They were extremely keen for me to join in, and were certain that I need only experience the full intensity of the ritual to be convinced. My presence would also bring their number to thirteen, which they felt would make a big difference. Poppaea was particularly persuasive, and I eventually let myself be talked into it, but only on the condition that after the moon ritual they attempted the Summoning of the Egregore of Lilith. Poppaea's eyes lit up at the suggestion and, although she and some of the others seemed genuinely frightened by the idea, they were more than willing to go along with it. I went home that evening feeling deliciously wicked. I had no illusions whatever about my behaviour, which was devious, manipulative and thoroughly dirty. My aim was clear: to set up the most exquisite all-girl orgy and, if the others felt they needed an excuse to liberate the dark depths of their sexualities, then I was more than happy to assist. It took three orgasms before I could get to sleep that night: one over Poppaea, one over Ella and one over all twelve of them.

Poppaea was extremely careful to make sure we weren't disturbed for the ritual. She didn't reveal where it was going to happen to anybody until lunch time on the day of the full moon. Even then, she only told her second-level initiate before disappearing to set everything up. It was all very mysterious, which added to the fine head of anticipation that I had been building up for days. It was a Thursday, which meant taking a five o'clock tutorial, but by good luck this was with Ella, and we finished early and walked back to the room in which we were meeting together.

Poppaea's number two was a girl who called herself Hecate, also an art student but dark-haired and rather sultry in her looks and style. She greeted us with kisses and motioned us into the room. Everybody else was already there, except Poppaea, and it was only then that Hecate revealed that the ritual was to take place not in the city at all, but at a secret place well out on the moors. I was glad of this and also excited, as it removed my last worries of scandal and because I adore being naked outdoors.

Dusk was falling as we drove out towards the hills, and there was a rising sense of exclusivity and intimacy among us. For all my rejection of their beliefs, I could appreciate the pleasure they got in their worship and found myself drawn in by them. I could sense the sexual tension as well, in the group as a whole and between certain couples. Hecate, who was driving, seemed to have a special intimacy with a tiny, delicate girl called Delphinia, who had hair so pale that I had first thought her an albino. Ella was next to me, but was having her hair stroked by Ea, a slight red-haired girl who was perhaps the quietest of the group. One other thing was curious, although presumably coincidence: of the twelve girls in the university mini-bus, I was the fourth or fifth tallest, whereas it's rare for me not to be the smallest person in any given group.

Poppaea had chosen her site well, a clearing in a stand of oak without a house in two miles and completely hidden. When we arrived, the last light was fading from the sky and we could see the ring of candles through the trees as we drew close. Poppaea was seated on a tree trunk, stark naked but for a spray of wild flowers tangled into her hair. She looked beautiful, delicate, almost elfin, and the sight put a lump into my throat. There was a strong scent of incense in the air as well, helping to create a weird, unwordly atmosphere. I've always felt at home in woods and wild places, which Poppaea had assured me was proof of my underlying pagan nature and an important part of my femininity. Looking at her, poised and gloriously naked as she waited for us, I couldn't help but agree: at least in the sense that I had a genuine affinity with what she called the wildwood.

We undressed at the edge of the clearing, each walking towards Poppaea when she was naked. I came last, kissing her offered hand and then taking my place across the glade. Poppaea came down from her trunk and, lifting her hands so that her long green hair streamed down around her body, began to chant.

I suppose it was beautiful in a way; certainly it was very moving, yet I feel sure that the others got far more out of moon ritual than I did. To be fair to Poppaea, she had done a great job of it, creating an exquisite atmosphere and leading us in a complex ritual that was somehow more private than the most intimate sexual acts. The moon was the focus of it, and indeed the focus of the coven, also something that they felt closely linked to in the same way that I feel linked to wild places. I recognise my feelings for what they are, though, without needing to call upon mystical explanations.

If the ritual didn't move me as much as it might have done, then the same wasn't true of being in a group of thirteen naked women. We held hands most of the time, and several parts of the ritual involved more intimate contact, although never of an overtly sexual nature. Still, when it came to kissing Poppaea's belly immediately above the line of her pubic hair, which was green, it was all I could do not to bury my face in her pussy. I didn't, but returned to my place with my face flushed and butterflies in my stomach.

They then initiated me, which was an even more intimate ritual. I had to kneel to each girl in turn, offer her a libation of mead and kiss her hands, lips, breasts, belly and pussy in strict order. Twelve times I did that and, by the time it was Poppaea's turn, my head was swimming with the scent of female sex. When I kissed her breasts, I let my tongue touch each nipple, then got to my knees, kissed her sweet little tummy for the second time and put my face to her pussy. I kissed once, then again, my tongue finding her clit for just an instant, only for her to draw me gently away. I'd felt her reaction, though, and knew it was only a matter of time. The submissiveness of the ritual wasn't lost on me, and I finished by bowing my head to Poppaea's feet and kissing the ground in front of her. When I looked up into her eyes, they were bright with a glow of triumph, although where she evidently thought she had captured my faith, what she had really done was expose the absolute heart of my sexuality.

I returned to my place in a state of rapture, which I could tell was shared by the others. What I didn't share was their nervousness, both because I didn't actually believe that Poppaea was about to allow her body to be taken over by a demoness, and partly because I was no stranger to submitting my body to another's will.

Poppaea began by setting up a tripod in the middle of the circle and placing a bronze crucible on it. This she filled with a pungent oil, which she set alight. The smell was even more intoxicating than the incense, and made my head spin. She stepped back and again began to chant, an evocation to Lilith to take possession of her. This was quite long and repeated each time she reached the end, while Hecate passed a great bowl of blood-red wine to each of us in turn. Lastly she offered it to Poppaea, who lifted it to her lips and drained the contents.

Once more she began chanting, her voice becoming shrill. We joined in, using subtly different words, in which Hecate led us. Suddenly Poppaea stopped and the night was abruptly silent but for the hissing flame. She stood bolt upright, her eyes shining in the moonlight and her hair in wild disarray. As she started to speak, her voice became deep and gravelly, very different from her normal voice and hoarse with passion.

We knelt as one at her command, putting our faces in the dirt. I knew it was just an act, but I was still trembling, the more so when I peeped out to see what she was doing. She had picked up a switch from the ground and was standing over Hecate, stroking her body with the tip. Hecate was whimpering as she was touched, the long, whippy twig making a pattern down the centre of her back and then down between her open bottom-cheeks. All twelve of us were in identical positions, faces in the dirt, bottoms high, in an attitude of absolute obeisance. Poppaea moved from Hecate to Ea, teasing her neck, her back, her bottom, her thighs and lastly her pussy with the switch. Her manner was lazy, controlled, luxuriantly erotic, as she took her time with each girl. When my turn came, I lifted my bottom higher, delighting in the subtle torment as she scratched my skin and flicked the switch gently against my naked pussy-lips.

It left me trembling hard and wishing for more, but reluctant to move until ordered. Only when she had completed the ring did she sit on the trunk, open-legged with the pink flesh of her pussy showing sparkling wet in the candlelight. She beckoned Hecate, who crawled forward obediently. The expression on Poppaea's face was an exquisite blend of cruelty and lust as she took Hecate by the hair and pulled her face in between her thighs, forcing her to lick. Poppaea sighed, and then opened her eyes and beckoned to Ea. She put Ea to one breast and Sumi, a pretty Oriental, to the other, then beckoned Delphinia forward and gestured haughtily to Hecate's open bottom.

I watched in ecstasy as the delicate girl buried her face in between Hecate's cheeks and began to lick unrestrainedly at her pussy and bottom. Ella rose and came forward, moving uncertainly towards Ea. Poppaea's switch lashed out to catch Ella across the thigh, and the chastened girl sank quickly to her knees. Others moved forward, crawling, trying to get close enough to pay homage to their priestess's body. I joined in, mesmerised by Delphinia's tiny, pert bottom, which was directly in front of me, the pouted pussy-lips and the tight dark spot of her bottom-hole tempting my tongue. I drew close and kissed the tuck of her bottom, then the rear of her pussy, burrowing in to taste her. Her thigh muscles moved as I tongued her, her bottom lifting to invite more, her cheeks coming further apart as if to offer me the centre. I kissed right on Delphinia's anus and then poked my tongue out and began to lick the tight little hole.

Poppaea laughed as she watched me tongue Delphinia's bottom: a cruel, triumphant sound. An arm curled under my belly to find my pussy, the fingers probing eagerly to find the opening of my vagina. Then I was being rolled over and someone was mounting me, her mouth finding mine as my arms closed around her back. Events became blurred after that. I was in a tangle of naked limbs, fingers exploring me intimately while I did my best to return their caresses. I remember taking my turn to lick Popaea while Hecate beat me with the switch. I remember Delphinia's sweet little face, her eyes shut as she licked my pussy. I remember being held down by three or maybe four of them as Poppaea sat her bottom on my face and ordered me to lick her anus in that same deep, gravelly voice. Finally, I remember her standing over me and laughing in absolute delight as she peed in my face.

It went on for ages, and I know I came at least twice, once under Delphinia's tongue and once under my own fingers with my face smothered in Hecate's little round breasts. Poppaea finally passed out, or at least seemed to. At the time, I was in a clinch with Ella, kissing as we worked our fingers in each other's pussies. With Poppaea out of action, their passion began to subside, although Ella and I brought each other off before collapsing in exhaustion. I lay for a long while with Ella snuggled into my arms, her head resting between my breasts as she sucked her thumb.

Hecate was the one who finally roused us and turned on an electric torch so that we could tidy up. That broke the spell, and I was amazed how shy and embarrassed some of the girls were, once they were dressed. The enthusiasm with which they'd indulged themselves told me that it had not been the first time, yet nor did they have my experience. I've introduced enough girls to the pleasures of lesbian sex to recognise the aftermath of uncertainty and guilt and, while none of the coven had the open delight of Amber Oakley or Ginny Scott, none of them had been virgin to such pleasures, either.

I'd enjoyed myself enormously anyway, and simply didn't have the heart to tell them that the experience hadn't altered my belief in the least. I was also coming to see the value of their faith, as it provided an excuse to indulge in the most exquisite pleasures and also created a deep bond between them. I was now part of that and, if I didn't actually believe, then there was no way that I was missing out on the chance of more orgies like the one we had just indulged in.

Hecate drove us back. She seemed the strongest and most controlled of the group, and was also older than anyone except me. As I came to realise while we drove back, the others regarded Poppaea with something approaching awe, and the events of the night had strengthened that feeling. They considered her to possess something deeply spiritual, almost messianic, and Hecate in particular seemed to worship her. We had revived her with what was left of the wine, and she quickly returned to her normal self, claiming to remember nothing of what had happened after she drank the libation.