Johnny Wraith Stories

The Sacred Journey

"WOOF! WOOF! WOOF! HOoooWWWwwwwLLLLllllll!" The house shook.

I sprang to my feet from bed, ran to the window, and peeked through the boards. The beast had returned and was standing outside in the driveway, wagging his tail and looking my way. I could swear he was smiling, just standing there, waiting, 5' at the shoulder, his head as big as a lion's head, his body coated with silver fur streaked black, his mouth full of gleaming teeth.

"I can see you peeking Johnny! Wolves have good eyes!" He chuckled. "Rise and shine! We have places to go and stories to tell!"

"I'll be right out," I replied.

"Bring a few boxes of wine!"

I had nothing to lose. The evidence was that the wolf was indeed a messenger of Goddess Vina. All the wine and chili that had magically appeared in my house the day we'd met was nearly certain proof. It could be a trick, but a wolf that size had no need of ruse. Nevertheless sweating with fear over taking the chance, I pulled on my shorts and tennis shoes, grabbed a cardboard keg of Franzia Merlot in each arm, and went outside to meet the wolf, face to face.

"Good morning Johnny!" said the wolf.

Immediately seeing the unmistakable goodness in his animal face and hearing his soothing but resounding voice, the fear dropped from me.  My knees stopped shaking and my clinched throat relaxed. "Good morning," I replied with a smile and he smiled even bigger. Things were going to be alright.

"I see you have some wine for me?"

"Yes."

"Let's open up those boxes and get our buzzes started!" The wolf winked. I didn't hesitate, and before I knew it, between drinking straight from the stopper and pouring the wine straight into my new friend's gaping mouth, we'd emptied both 5 liter kegs. It wasn't a 50-50 split, but he deserved more because he was bigger.

"That hit the spot!" said the wolf.

"A gud waye ta stert da murnin'!"  I jested.

The wolf winked at me and nodded in agreement, then gave me a serious look. "So, Johnny, are you ready?"

"Where are we going?"

"To a safe haven, where we can relax and talk."

"Sounds good to me. Should I go get more wine for the trip?"

"No, there's plenty where we're going," replied the wolf. He then crouched down and said, "climb on my back and hold on to my neck, tightly."

"Ok. But what should I call you? I still don't know your name."

"Wulf."

At that, we began our journey. I climbed onto Wulf's back and wrapped my arms around his neck, tightly. He started running, faster, and faster, and faster. At first, the ride was rough, and I could barely hold on, but once we had reached what I guessed was 120mph, Wulf's feet left the ground. We started flying! Before I knew it, the Arizona desert was disappearing below and we were entering the clouds. For a while we flew above the wispy horizon, maybe 10 minutes before making a gradual descent. We touched down in a place I cannot describe. It wasn't Arizona anymore. It was a lush paradise, surrounded by tall trees bearing fruit, their boughs supporting the music of many songbirds. These trees stretched higher than any redwoods I'd ever seen! Snow-capped mountains rose around us on all sides. Butterflies fluttered among colorful patches of fragrant flowers strewn about the ground's perfect carpet of soft grass that cushioned our every step. A nearby stream flowed calmly and slowly from what appeared to be a hidden grove.  The warm sunlight was different than in any other place I'd been.  Being touched by its rays was like being massaged by little fingertips.  

"Welcome to paradise!" said Wulf.

"Is this Heaven?" I gawked, my eyes going every direction and my senses overwhelmed.

"One of many heavens," answered Wulf. "Now, go drink from the stream."

"I can do that here? It isn't polluted?"

"It's definitely not polluted, but by drinking from it you can become polluted," he chuckled.

I knelt at the stream and cupped its flowing water in my hands. As I did so, it turned from crystal clear to dark red before my eyes!

"Drink it," said Wulf.

It was too good to be true! As my I lifted my cupped hands to my lips and sipped, I TASTED WINE!

"This IS Paradise!" I exclaimed. A tear of joy rolled off my cheek and splashed into the stream.

"Johnny, you never go hungry or thirsty here, and if you are righteous, you can come here when you have earned respite."

"You mean I don't have to die to come here?"

"No, you just have to serve the Goddess, always. When you have honored Her with your deeds, the door to this place will open. It might be through a dream. It might be through suffering hardship for Her sake."

"I must learn what I must do to serve the Goddess! Please Wulf, teach me."

"Johnny, just to make sure I have your complete attention, I think you should first visit a dryad."

"Dryad?"

"Yes, just follow the stream up current and it will take you into a sacred grove. There you will meet one of the many dryads inhabiting this place."

"They aren't dangerous, are they?"

"Johnny, go take a look," Wulf winked. "I'll take a nap until you are finished."

Obeying orders, I followed the stream into the grove and looked around. Before my eyes, a beautiful woman miraculously stepped from the very trunk of a tree, as if the wood changed instantly to flesh. She was naked with perfect skin like porcelain, black straight hair, a tall firm body with full breasts and hips, small waist and ankles, and hypnotic silver eyes. Without saying a word and smiling sweetly, she approached me with such light step her dainty feet seem not to touch the ground. With her gentle hands, she removed my clothes. As she pressed her warm, naked flesh against mine, she kissed me with wet open mouth and guided me to the ground. Before I could say a word, her full breasts were cupped in my hands and I was transfixed with her beauty. Laid back in a bed of flower petals we were soon joined, our hips rocking together. Being inside her felt as if a thousand soft wet tongues and sucking mouths were simultaneously and desperately coaxing to swallow my immediate climax. I know that the moment of orgasm is often associated with the moment of death, but it is a poor comparison, at the very best, to the sensory overload of emptying every ounce into a dryad's depths.

Wulf popped one eye open when I rejoined him. "So, how was it?"

I could only answer with a goofy kindergarten smile and shrug.

"Good! I'm glad it went well. Let's get ourselves a drink before we get started with your lessons."

Wulf got up, stretched, yawned. We went to the stream and drank from it, me with my cupped hands, he with his giant, lapping tongue. We partook until we were clumsy and glowing, then wobbled to a grassy mound basked in sunshine and sat down together, him to speak, me to listen.