Sally Takes The Lead

She was dressed in exactly the same clothing but he could sense something in her, a building pressure.

Sally was strangely silent as she leads him through the town. The sun was already setting and by the time they reached the edge of the forest, the sun had dipped below the horizon. Aaralon had expected to have run into some of the other members of the cult by now. After all, it wasn’t a massive place and they were all heading in the same direction. Yet they headed into the forest alone, not even the Blacksmith Shane in evidence.

For her part Sally seemed to know exactly where she was going, heading down one of the hunter's paths with confidence. Aaralon tried to follow along and not trip over as they went, a task that only became harder when they turned off the path and headed out into unmarked woodland.

It felt like they had been walking for an age, the darkness had closed in around them completely. Aaralon started to wonder if Sally had gotten lost and was just not willing to admit it when he saw the glimmer of firelight through the tree branches and before long they were stepping out into a clearing.

The fire in the center was quite large, it’s flames illuminating the other members of the cult. They all looked at Sally and Aaralon. They were dressed normally, although as Aaralon looked around he saw that what looked like sacks and bottles arranged around the edge of the clearing.

“So what now?” Sally asked him with a nervous smile and Aaralon realized that they were all looking at him now, all waiting for him to say or do something.

A moment of panic passed over Aaralon before that whispering voice returned. Again sliding across his mind, telling him exactly what to say and do.

“I am merely a visitor,” he said, his voice sounding more sure and deep than normal in his own ears. “I trust you to lead this circle.”

It seemed like Sally was at risk of lifting off the ground for a moment before she turned away to face the rest of the group. Her arms spreading out like a conductor.

“Well, you all heard him! Sammy, did you bring the paint?”

The girl called Sammy turned from staring at Aaralon in wide-eyed amazement to staring at Sally instead. “I brought the last of what I had.”

“Wonderful!” Sally exclaimed with a clap of her hands.”Then let’s get started!”

Aaralon took this chance to move over to one of the long logs that were laying around the edge of the clearing. As he says down he watched the group of young men and women begin to strip down. As he watched he could see that Sally, whether she knew it or not, had them all tied around her little finger. The slow, nervous stripping suddenly became much more enthusiastic as Sally began to slide out of her own clothing.

Again Aaralon was hardly surprised that they were so willing to follow her lead. In the nude Sally was quite the site to behold. Her breasts, larger than average, somehow managed to still be perky in spite of all logic. In the firelight her skin seemed to glow, the flickering shadows casting her curves into an even more alluring light.

Dispassionately Aaralon looked over the other two women in the group. Neither of them were unpleasant on the eye but when stood beside Sally they seemed almost like old crones.

The two other women broke off from the group, heading towards one of the piles of sacks. He took the chance to look over the men as they stood nervously around, some openly gawking at Sally.

There where six of them by his count, he was surprised not to see Shane amongst them. Instead, it was the cavalcade of men he had met before. They were a mix of farmers and traders son and it was easy to pick out which was which. The farmer's son body where corded by muscle born of hard labor whilst the trader's sons had the soft edge of those born to indoor work. Aaralon let his eyes wander off their members and he noticed with some surprise that most of them made no effort to hide the erections they had and all they implied. Indeed the sizes of them varied, most of them sitting on the smaller end with only two being really noteworthy.

However, it wasn’t the size of there cocks that surprised Aaralon but what came next. When the two women returned to the group with small pots in hand. They began to pass them out to the men. Three of them moved straight away to begin painting the bodies of the women. However it was not them that Aaralon found his eyes lingering on, instead, he found himself watching the remaining two.

One of the Farmers sons and a Traders son by the look of him, the former taller and muscled, the latter softer, almost feminine. They, in unison, dipped there fingers into the pots of paint and, eyes locked, began to slowly apply it to each other.

Aaralon watched, enraptured as they each gently traced careful swirls and dips onto the body of the other. He could see the way their chests began to rise and fall, the way their previously flaccid cocks began to twitch and harden. The tension between them almost seeming to crackle in the air.

With every passing moment, they seemed to move closer together, the shorter of the two tipping his head upwards, his lips parting ever so slightly.

Closer.

Closer.

“That’s Henry and Ethan.”