The week between the meeting and the party was a quick one. I think I can say that for pretty much every week of college except for the two weeks leading up to midterms, finals or any vacation. I didn’t have to do anything for the costume, of course. I simply made myself into a Satyr for the night. I liked, and still like, the Roman style satyrs better than the Greek. The Greeks just add a horse’s ears and tail to a normal looking guy. The Romans, though, offered us the goat legs and hooves of what we think of today. I was looking pretty hot as a Pan-like fawn.
I had to make sure it didn’t look as real as it actually was or people would notice. I had to put on pants, for example, because just furring up my body and going naked would have been noticed. I’m very attentive to detail, though, and was looking pretty hot in the mirror. I sheathed my cock just like the little statue of Pan that I used as my model. My dick head was just visible out the top of the fur scabbard that encased it while it was flaccid. When hard, though, it was slid into full view and looked, well, incredible. That would have drawn a little too much attention, though. So, on with the pants. I did let the fur grow up my abs, though, into a point that ended just under my chest. I put a hole in the back of the pants so that my little tail could poke through. I thought people would just think that was funny. It is, however, what got me in trouble in the end. I had ears in the right place and read online how a person could use some foam padding to make their legs look like they were hinged backwards like an animals and how to make ‘hooves.’ I couldn’t have explained knees that bent the wrong way and a lack of human feet so I used the foam bits to finish it all off.
I showed up for the party a little late and, as instructed, avoided the bar. I’d done my own ritual at home to make sure all that was important to me happened. Samhain is the pagan new year. It’s an important Sabbat. When I got to the party I started looking for Calvus/Michael. I had brought him a little gift. I know it’s was possibly the gayest thing ever but my Mom taught me never to show up to a ritual empty handed. The person leading should always receive a gift of some sort and I assumed he’d be leading us tonight.
I was right. It was because of this, in fact, that he was nowhere to be found. I didn’t see him until it was time to gather for the ritual. There was, as there always is, plenty of time to give him the token, however.
“Merry meet, Glistern. How are you on this All Hallow’s Eve?”
(Naughty pics after the jump)
“Uh, merry meet, Calvus. I’m well. You?” I wasn’t expecting the merry meet. Who were these people? What were they reading? He was painfully hot in his costume, though. Bacchus, God of wine and ecstacy. Who doesn’t love Bacchus?
“Very well, thanks. And very excited. I think this will be our best ritual yet. We are at that point when we are remembering all the things we didn’t remember, though. I need to go look for a couple of candles and a few other things. Sorry to rush off.”
“No worries. I brought you something, though. Might help.”
“A gift? Are you a lesbian?”
“What? No. What?”
“A joke, poorly made. Lesbians are always teased for moving too fast into a relationship. It was supposed to be funny.”
I suddenly felt less the fool. “I didn’t know we were on a date. Anyway, my mom always told me that I should bring a gift to the leader of any ritual I attended. I’m a good boy.” That was punctuated by my own, award-winning smile.
“Your mom’s pagan?”
“She’s a witch. All the women in my family have been witches.”
“That’s amazing. Most of the people in this club are just rebelling against their parents’ Protestantism, I think. I do need to hurry, though, sorry.”
“Of course. Here.” And with that I evened the playing field. I thought the best gift for someone I didn’t know was a little package with all that was needed for a Samhain ritual. I just bought two of most everything I’d bought for my own work. It was everything he needed for the circle that night and a few extra things. He was flabbergasted and I was erect. Amazing what a little nudge in the power struggle will do for a guy’s dick.
“Let’s go get set-up, then. Want to help?”
The circle was pretty much what I expected. It was a collection of pop-pagan teachings offered to a group of rebellious teenagers who weren’t tapped into the magic around them at all. Most of them were so busy looking at my transformation from frat boy to half-naked horned god that they nearly missed the calling of the corners. Calvus lead them, though, like a champ. He managed to turn me on even more with how he handled the group. He kept them focused and engaged. When he cast the circle he even managed to pick up some of the magic in the air with his athame. I was impressed.
He closed the ritual with one of my favorite practices. There were plates of fruits and sweets and he invited everyone to walk around and feed each other a bite of sustenance while offering a blessing to all gathered. There is something tremendously intimate about feeding another person or in allowing them to feed you. I didn’t have to work very hard to stay away from him until the very end. I think he had the same thing in mind. Ending in front of each other with a slice of apple in hand we shared food and an embrace. It felt like the kind of magic that happens in movies. Thankfully my satyr shape thrust my boner up and not forward. He wasn’t so lucky.
“It’s a little noisy in the main room. Want to go for a walk before we join everyone? I could use a little time before I’m pressed between a throng of people dancing anyway.”
“Sure.” I almost laughed at his lack of subtlety. What had gotten me so confused that first day? He was as goofy as I was! “Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere. Let’s just walk.”
“Cool.” As we walked, “Great costume, by the way. Using real grapes was a nice touch.”
“Want one? They’re sweet. I’m surprised you knew who I was.”
“Do I look like I don’t read?”
“Crap, that’s not what I meant. I just meant that not very many people recognized the costume. Not sure why, though. Who doesn’t love Bacchus?”
“My thoughts exactly. We should have brought some wine with us.”
“What do you thinks in here?” Calvus produced a rather sizable gourd that I’d not really expected to be functional from his costume. It hung from the rope around his waist just like you’d imagine. “Do you mind drinking after me?”
“The wine will kill the germs, right? I’m fine with it.”
“I can’t believe you’d compliment this costume, though, considering you look like you stepped out of some pagan wet-dream. How’d you get that fur to look so real? It’s kinda sexy, I have to admit. I’ve thought about getting mounted by Pan more than once.”
“How’s that wine treating you, buddy?”
“That was a lot of sharing, wasn’t it? I’m just saying.”
“Yeah, a lot. Pan’s hot, though. That was part of the point. The Christian church was good at vilifying as many things at a time as they could. This got rid of sex and paganism all at once.”
“You didn’t answer me. How’d you get the fur to look so real?”
“Oh, spirit gum. I have a friend in the theater department.”
“But I swear I can see skin through the hair. Doesn’t look fake at all!”
“That’s the wine and some wishful thinking.”
“Asshole. You might be right, though. So, what was it like growing up with a witch for a mom?”
“What was it like not? I don’t know. I mean, it’s the only thing I know.”
“Still, you had to see what it was like for the other kids. You know what “normal” life was like for them. How was yours different?”
“First of all, did you just use air quotes around normal? Second, did you really bring me out here to talk about my mom? I’m feeling a little deflated, I have to admit.” I finished that off with a wink. I practiced winking in the mirror in high school. I’d seen a male teacher use this incredibly sexy wink from time to time on the school secretary. I had to master it. So, when I winked at him. It was a good one.
“Ouch. Good. Why did you bring me out here then?”
“Because you are hot and this is a Sabbat. We should celebrate it right.”
“We did. I did, anyway. I cast a circle at home and did all that.” Pagans seem to think that a ritual just isn’t a ritual unless they’ve gotten laid. This is another idea spread by the early church in Europe. You put a few skyclad women under a full moon and suddenly it’s an orgy for Satan. I wasn’t complaining about this misconception at the moment, though. I was just making him ask for it.
“Well, I meant… in my tradition, sometimes… well… yeah, I guess we pretty much covered everything.”
“Giving up that easily? I was fucking with you. I know what you meant. I don’t think it has that much to do with celebrating the Sabbat but I’m game. I need to go home and get out of this costume. Want to go to my place? It’s just up the street a few more blocks.”
“Yes.” The look on his face scared me a little. He looked… hungry. I did what I always did back then when I was startled. I took control.
“Then ask for it.”
I have to give him this, he didn’t miss a beat. “May I please come with you to your place?”
“To have sex with you.”
“What do you mean by sex?”
“I want to suck your dick. I want you to mount me and fuck me like a dog.”
“Like a goat, you mean. You may come to my apartment. We’ll see if you earn my dick.”
“Thank you, sir.”