Disclaimer: The following is fiction. The story’s content does not represent the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote unlawful activity as the story describes. By continuing to read this work, you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character they are depicting, but they remain at all times adults.
Feature Writer: XP
Feature Title: CARNIVAL OF SIN 2
Published: 01.07.2025 (V15 – FINAL)
Author’s Notes: This is a story I began in March 2011 and I misplaced the draft until only recently. Coincidently, I had been watching the television show “Carnivale” and loved the dark brooding mood it created — especially the demon preacher and his evil sister. Think of it as simply a vignette of perverted acts — I wanted to create the feeling of a creepy, wicked, and most importantly, evil circus of various grotesqueries, with dubious sideshows, deliberately intended to bring out the worst in its audience — with carnal sexuality — as the key motivator leading them towards sin, fornication, perversion, and of course, devil worship.
Carnival Of Sin 2
“Scandal, seduction, incest, adultery, sodomy! Oh, Satan! One and unique God of my soul, inspire thou in me something yet more, present further perversions to my smoking heart, and then shalt thou see how I shall plunge myself into them all!” — Marquis De Sade.
LIVING DOLLS (2,041 WORDS)
He had never actually been loved by anyone worth remembering. His name was Timothy, though no one had spoken his name with any tenderness in years. He’d moved through life in a dull, grey haze — a man in his early forties, but with thinning hair, nicotine-stained fingers, and an affinity for the quiet control of routines.
No family. No partner. Just the flickering glow of his apartment television, old VHS tapes of forgotten burlesque striptease, Nazi dominatrix, and erotic asphyxiation — of course, there was his ever-growing catalogue of perverted fantasies that all shared one simple trait — absolute control. Why? Because control was safer than love. Love asked things of you. Control says that you were above asking.
So, there he was at the Carnival of Sin at the stroke of midnight. The dull fairy lights glowed ominously in the hazy mist that hugged the entire sideshows. From the outside of the small tented structure, the hand-painted sign advertised the “Living Dolls. Yours to command”—Timothy liked that—it struck a dark chord with his bank of evil, little fetishes.
An eyeless man stood by the candid entry.
“Step right up. Step right up,” the old cockney repeated, “Step right up and see the Living Dolls. So life-like you’d fink they’re ‘uman …”
Timothy placed the ticket into the blind man’s hand. The eyeless man moved, as if he saw the world around him, just as Timothy did. Pulling back the tent, he allowed Timothy to step inside.
“A show for one,” he announced, “Chose a Living Doll. And make it yer own,” the eyeless man added.
Inside the bizarre sideshow attraction, they appeared like grotesques—the human-like Living Dolls—hung lifeless awaiting his selection, his choice, his command, and his desires to be met. But there were many dolls. Busty dolls, pretty dolls, effeminate dolls, boy dolls, and girl dolls. All dressed, as if ready for a sexy time, they were all so very delicate and vulnerable. They were porcelain white and so lifelike in their construction.
Could this be the surprise he was looking for? Was this an invitation to explore his secretive desires for absolute control? Yes, maybe. Maybe he would get the doll to do unspeakable things. Filthy things. Perverted things. His mind reeled at the possibilities. Yes … a young boy-like figure — a Pinocino for his penis — caught his eye and his darkly pedophilic imagination.
“You like this one, Mister?” said the eyeless man, who now guided him by the hand to a seat, in this audience-of-one, miniature theatre.
“You may touch the doll. You may manipulate the doll. Do as you will. But be careful what you teach it … what you ask it to do,” he added before leaving.
Timothy sat down and waited. His cock was already hard in his pants.
The eyeless man had left. The theatre was quiet and very intimate. Velvet drapes hung like dead meat in a butcher’s window. And as they drew back, they revealed an oversized toy box that sat in the center of the stage. It was covered in flesh-painted wood with erect penises painted on every side. A key-like device that looked more like a brass cock protruded from its side, dangling with a flesh-colored silken ribbon.
Timothy retrieved the key and opened the box — inside, curled, waiting — was the pretty, effeminate boy doll he’d picked dressed in female lingerie. At close inspection, the Living Doll seemed so beautiful in the way that certain antique things are — unsettling in their flawlessness — skin powdered and cracked along their cheeks and chin like a broken teacup. Painted lips slightly parted. A matching black, lacy bra and panties clung to the doll’s body that gave away nothing of gender. Joints at the shoulders and knees appeared mechanical, reinforced with ivory brackets. The boy’s lashes were thick and black, but his eyes — those impossibly wide glassy eyes — held nothing.
There were no instructions. No, Timothy didn’t need instructions. His perverted mind knew exactly what to do. Pulling down the translucent black panties, he placed the cock-like key against the hole that was positioned exactly where a human anus would be — Timothy pushed it in and turned the key.
One rotation. A breath. Two. A blink. Three. Movement.
He removed the key and the boy-doll rose stiffly, like a puppet pulled by strings no one could see. It stood and bowed, a soft grinding sound coming from his shoulder. From the box, there was an accompaniment of strange music. It evoked a sense of melancholy, mystery, and macabre charm — so dark and dreamy, like a macabre mixture of vaudeville performance with touches of gothic horror.
Timothy swallowed. Fuck, he thought. This is amazing. The boy doll stepped out of the box and stood on the stage, right in front of where Timothy sat.
“Say you belong to me. Say you are mine to do whatever I want with!”
The boy’s mouth twitched. The voice was light, sexless.
“I belong … to you, Master.”
Yes. Master. He liked that title. Timothy stood up, stepped onto the low stage, and approached the boy doll. The boy did not move. Timothy touched the doll’s chest rubbing the place where its nipples would be hidden beneath the lingerie — it felt cold, unresisting. The doll did not flinch. He walked behind them, and examined the curvature of the boy’s back, downwards towards the mechanical beauty of their artificial spine. His fingers lingered near the keyhole. A slight bulge in the black lacy panties.
“Kneel.”
The boy obeyed. The doll’s movements were slow, and awkward at first. But there was something in the submission that stirred Timothy’s cock to almost ejaculation — not just perverted lust, exactly, but a sense of divine right. He could teach the boy. Mould the boy. Make him do all the perverse sex things that he dreamt about — This thing was his.
“Touch me here!”
Timothy pointed to his cock that was almost bursting to get out of his loose pants. The young boy doll did as his Master instructed. His painted nails raked across the old pervert’s bulge. Yes, fingertips felt mechanical, but it was the control he enjoyed.
“Take it out and worship me!” he commanded.
The boy’s hands were dexterous. It felt amazing as his small fingers delicately unfastened Timothy’s pants (which fell to the ground around his feet), as the kneeling boy doll began to stroke his cock in a proficient matter.
“Aaaghh .,.. ” moaned Timothy, “Beg me, to let you suck it …”
It was better than he imagined it could be. The boy doll looked up at him with a pathetic and demure demeanor.
“Please, Master. Please, I’m not worthy. But please allow me … to suck your thing for you.”
”My thing? It’s my cock! Say you want to suck my cock!”
“Please, Master … let me suck your cock!”
Timothy smiled at the doll’s sycophant behavour.
“Suck me, you fucking ignorant slave! Fucking little pig!” he groaned, “And finger my anus. Do it!”
The boy doll did exactly as his Master instructed. His suction was exquisite. Though Timothy has never had anyone give him a head job before, it was more than pleasurable. All the time, the boy doll’s fingers stroked his shaft and fingered his itchy anus. Timothy was close to exploding. But there was so much more to do with the boy doll — he pulled back.
“Did I not please you, Master?” asked the boy doll with a hint of hurt in his voice.
“Taste your fingers … tell me how my ass tastes!”
The boy doll sucked his dirty fingers.
“You taste divine, oh Master. Let me lick your hole. Please allow me to clean you … ass-to-mouth!”
Timothy couldn’t explain it, but even in the short time that had elapsed, the boy doll seemed more human than he’d realized.
“My pleasure is your only concern,” he said, “Take off your little girl panties!”
The kneeling boy doll pulled down his black lacy panties to reveal his boy doll cock. It was erect. Timothy hadn’t expected that. The mechanics of this doll seemed to be incredible. The boy doll’s cock was almost half the length and girth of Timothy’s modest cock. That made him feel even more libidinous.
Timothy removed the rest of his clothing. He wasn’t the most attractive of men. His body was beta, even though his mind was alpha. But, he felt no less, in front of the boy doll — as he was its Master, regardless.
“Beg me to piss in your mouth, piggy! I want to see you wet with my filthy urine!”
The boy doll seemed to have an enigmatic grin. As if he was expecting this kinky request.
“Please, Master. Please, I’m not worthy. But allow me … to drink your delicious, hot-salty-piss.”
Yes. This is what he wanted. The groveling was as much a turn-on as his perversions. Timothy pointed his rockhard cock at the face of the Living Doll and began to urinate over the kneeling figure — guiding his dark-yellow piss stream into the doll’s open mouth.
“That’s it. Drink it. Drink it all, you fucker!”
“Oh, yes Master. It’s my honor! Please, drench me!”
As Timothy’s piss stream began to fade he reached out and touched the piss-wet face of the boy doll. To his surprise, his face no longer felt hard and porcelain-like — it felt like real skin. Amazed, Timothy held the boy doll under his chin.
“Kiss me,” he ordered.
Timothy bent forward and kissed the lips of the Living Doll. They felt warm and tender. As a real boy’s lips should be. They tasted acrid with the flavor of his urine. As they kissed, Timothy felt the tip of the boy’s tongue between his lips. They began to tongue-kiss. Timothy was even more astounded as the boy’s mouth and his dueled together passionately. There was nothing mechanical or wooden about his young slave.
“Bend over. I must have you!” cried Timothy, “Now beg me for it! Beg for my cum!”
“Yes, Master. You are a god! I worship you. Please, I beg you. Take me! Take my virginity. My ass-pussy is all yours! Fill me with your seed!”
Timothy knelt behind the boy doll and pressed the head of his cock against the doll’s opening at the rear. It felt soft and gave in easily as he sank his erection into the boy doll’s rear.
“Oh, Master! You honor me! Fuck me hard, please, Master!” begged the doll on all fours.
Timothy reached beneath the boy doll’s groin and gripped his penis. It felt thick and long. Thicker and longer than it had before. The porcelaine-like skin seemed to evolve. To adapt. To anticipate. The doll’s movements grew fluid. Even the boy doll’s voice deepened, taking on a darker nuance. It was as if the doll had begun to interpret. To improvise.
“Oh, Master. Sodomize my dirty little hole. Bugger me. Fuck my unworthy ass-cunt!”
It felt so warm and tingling inside the doll’s anal passage — as if it had been designed for this very purpose — Timothy felt inspired by the boy doll’s vigorous movements as he pressed his cock to the hilt so that his balls rammed up against the boy doll’s soft testicles.
“Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck your incestuous son!”
The very insides of the doll seemed to vibrate against his cock flesh. It gripped his entire cock, milking him from the inside out in the most unexpected way — as if it had been created to do this very thing.
“Oh, Daddy! Cum inside me and make me a real boy!”
“Aaarghhhhh …” cried Timothy.
He was in complete ecstasy as the boy doll’s rectum opened and closed around the girth of his penis, massaging its length as he moved in and out. The feeling was incredible. He was close to ejaculation. Timothy panted in pure ecstasy!
“I’m … I’m going to cum!” he screamed as he could no longer hold back — his semen flooding the boy doll’s rear.
”Oh, Daddy, fuck your son … Fuck me! Fuck me, incestuous Master … make me real!”
The pleasure seemed to never stop. He came a second time. And a third! It was beyond him. Timothy was gasping for every breath — as the boy’s anus continued to milk every drop of his tainted semen from his shivering balls.
xxxxx
ACT THREE (1,348 WORDS)
The greedy crowd had been greatly stirred by the perversity of the previous act — but as quickly as the iconic scene of Adam and Eve’s unholy corruption by the Horned Serpent built to its cum-drenched crescendo — the entire stage began to rotate away and reveal the next chapter in this illicit and sordid journey.
The stage lighting changed again. This time, to a deep crimson red. It was, of course, the color of lust and blood. As it filled the void, it was a signal of something even more bloody and profane to come. The ambient music became even darker. Evil whispers, like a faint breeze, crossed the ears of the demanding crowd — vowing that something even more twisted, evil, and ominous was just about to be revealed.
The audience lamented in illicit excitement. “Indulge us more for we are still hungry” — they seemed to say without the words passing their lips — urging the dark performance forward, unsatisfied and needy of licentious profligacy. Their tight fists gripped their wet cocks. Their busy fingers furiously dug at their dripping cunts. They were all eager to continue on their dark masturbatory tale of libertinage throughout the ages.
The naked Masturbatrix addressed the audience.
“Act Two. As we leave the fantasies of the Garden of Libertinage behind,” she announced stroking her cock harder and faster, “If you’re not already naked in the audience, please remove any last vestiges of decency behind.
“Solo or mutual masturbation is the order of the day! I want to see all you deviants rubbing yourself hard and furiously to our next act — that we call The Temple of Libertinage. As the Horned Serpent gave birth to our kind — and as we sprung forth from her loins as demi-demons feasting on the sexual energy of the sons and daughters of Adam.
“Whilst living among them, we enslaved them. With sin and lust. We feed upon their unholy desires. Using them to bear our young, so that we could offer them, in sacrifice at our secret temples. Temples that were dedicated to darkness and wickedness. Oh, Blasphemous Devil of Darkness! We pay homage and worship you!
“For the next act, we will need a young volunteer from the audience. Don’t be shy! Come forth … you know who you are. A delicious morsel to be offered to our Dark Master — the younger the better. Let me see …”
The Masturbatrix pointed her fingers between a couple in the front row.
“Ah, between you, sits your delicious young altar-boy of a son … it seems you both want him to join our sacrilegious jubilations!”
A young boy, no older than eleven years, was pushed forward from the front row. Both, his incestuous mother and father, stood naked and excited from the first act. They both seemed overly eager to see him used and abused. He too, was already completely naked and shaking with anticipation. Without further a do, the Masturbatrix helped him up onto the centerstage. She momentarily fondled his stiff little penis bringing it to an instant erection.
“Darling, oh, little darling … you are perfect,” groaned the Masturbatrix, “Mommy and Daddy have taught you well. They have been having such naughty and immoral thoughts about you for the longest time. Incest is such a delightful treat. Now, come lie down on the Devil’s altar. Soon, you will be joined by the worshippers of Baal — as they prepare your flesh for our human sacrifice.”
Following her words, the second scene began to unveil itself. The scene laid before the crowd was that of an ancient stone temple. The masonry backdrop seemed covered with a mixture of blood and ivy. The centerpeice of the scene consisted of the graven image of the ancient evil pagan god, called Ba’al Pe’or or Belphegor. He was the demon god of excrement. The god of the anal opening — sometimes known as the toilet god.
The three black Amazonian-like priestesses stood tall and mighty. They were all dressed in flimsy white vestments that were completely open to the sides. Their clothing did little to disguise their horny nakedness beneath — as they eagerly sought to begin their divine ritual — its truly disgusting nature — was about to unfold before the eyes of their furiously masturbating audience.
“Taking you back to the ancient times. To the dark and evil days, in which we all willingly gave worship to Belphegor, the god of Sodom and Gomorrah, who was often depicted as a large erect phallus. Belphegor was both the sun and the moon, the day and the night, fertile and fertility, the man and the woman – a cock demon — had an unquenchable thirst for young flesh and the taste for human waste.”
A slow but feral drum beat, caste a pagan-like rhythm, that filled the tented arena of filth. Two of the black-skinned priestesses effortlessly held the young naked boy down upon an ugly stone altar before the looming effigy of an enormous stone penis. They chanted in ancient tongues to appease their evil sex demon. The third priestess stepped up onto the altar, her body gyrating and dancing just above the young boy. Her lean and muscular body thrust, back and forth, to fiendish music.
The young boy looked anxiously over at his mother and father — who were already copulating as they watched their beloved son, being offered up to the Demon of Waste.
The priestess, standing over the boy, glided her hands teasingly over her firm warrior-women’s body, touching herself to the slow rhythmic pulses of the ancient drums. She slowly parted her vestment to one side, so that she could point her open cunt-lips at the open mouth of the young boy. He simply looked up in surprise as she began to urinate over him. An acidic cascade of hot, salty piss gushed over him, soaking the skin of the naked young one. The obedient boy opened his mouth wide, as he eagerly drank from the priestess’s pissing cunt. Her dark yellow urine splashed over the naked boy’s face, as the two priestesses gripped him tightly in position.
Twisted whispers inspired the audience further, and the restless crowd collectively moaned in deviant delight — “More, give us more, rape him, sodomise him for us” — they said without words. There was no need to ask, for that was the way of Ba’al.
The dark priestess standing over had finished emptying her bladder. She turned and lowered her backside, squatting with her bowels directly over the boy’s face. Pressing down, her excrement began to emerge. I huge turd hung between her legs. Now, she thrust her hips directly over his open mouth. Her foul stench filled the air. Once the thick turd broke and fell across the boy’s face, the nigger priestess sat lower. Much lower. Her body gyrated hard against the boy’s stuffed mouth — as she almost suffocated him — spreading her foul mess across the boy’s upturned face.
“Yes! Yes! The Feast of the Worshipers of Ba’al,” announced the Masterbatrix, “And now … the sodomy ritual must begin.”
The nigger priestesses quickly turned the boy effortlessly over. His tiny ass was exposed for everyone to see. One of the dark priestesses lay down on the altar, pulling the shit-coated boy on top of her. She pressed his small cock into her slimy, black cunt. One of the other priestesses pulled his young face into her steaming wet cunt hole.
The last of the nigger priestesses had donned a thick black strap-on dildo, sinking one end into her hot, wet cunt, while the other stuck out from her black-skinned body. The fake cock bobbed as she moved into position behind the young boy — its tip seemingly dripping with precum. She pressed its bulbous head hard up against the boy’s delicate virgin anus, then thrust viciously forward up his shit-hole.
“Aaaargghhhhhh …” the boy screamed!
Now, the boy hung, spit-roasted between them. As the dark dildo slid in and out of his shit-coated hole. Above the altar of Ba’al, the huge phallic idol began to erupt in a fountain of preternatural semen — the cum of Belphegor blessing their rape offering.
xxxxx
LUST OF THE SATYRESS (1,525 WORDS)
With his precious ticket in one hand and the other holding his mother’s hand, they walked towards the amazement park. Young Peter looked up at his mother expectantly and asked her about the shocking picture of the display board outside the sideshow. Upon it was the image of a half-woman, half-beast – the Satyress. He wasn’t sure why, but there was something about the beast that seemed to fascinate his young mind.
“The Satyress. Oh my! Peter, the sign says, that she is one of the great mysteries of the world and is not to be missed. She is a freak of nature to be marveled at. She’s half beast but all woman. Aren’t you scared of this sort of thing dear? Don’t you find it creepy? Wouldn’t you rather see the clowns, jugglers or the acrobats?”
The truth was that it was not the eleven-year-old son, but it was his mother, Nina, who was afraid of these sorts of upfront freak shows. She could not handle the proximity and often the peculiarity of these circus folks – always being stared at by the so-called normal people. She was keen to move on, but Peter pulled at her arm.
“Come on, Mum!” he waved the ticket, “Let’s go inside. I want to see it for myself.”
Reluctantly Nina agreed. She could take him in quickly and remain behind the crowd so as not to feel so strange about the whole thing. They stepped upon the old wooden stairs and she placed the ticket in the hand of the shady man standing at the curtained doorway. He pulled back the narrow curtain to one side so that the mother and son could step inside the darkened interior.
“She be a beast, alright,” he whispered as they stepped inside.
From within the wooden caravan, there was a narrow walkway, just enough for them to walk single file, as they both moved towards a larger room at the end of the hallway that was filled with lighted candles and gypsy netting. The room was larger than Nina had expected from looking at the caravan from the outside and they were the only ones inside. The room’s aroma was of exotic perfumes mixed with the musky smoke of burning incense.
A soft voice spoke from behind a thin drape screen. Nina could make out the silhouette of another woman.
“Please make yourself comfortable. Take a seat and I will be right with you.”
Peter and his mother looked around in the low light. The heavily carpeted floor was covered with oversized cushions of various colours and textures. It was a lush and inviting room that reminded Nina of her personal harem fantasies – an exotic escape that she had allowed herself whilst fingering her tight, wet pussy, on numerous occasions — imagining being amongst an exotic orgy of near-naked women and dark-skinned eunuchs masturbating an Arabic Prince whilst seated upon his ornate throne.
The smokiness made Nina feel lightheaded, so she guided Peter down on a pile of cushions and then sat next to him. The sound of soft ethnic music broke the silence. Its slow and methodical rhythm was quite entrancing and though Nina felt a little anxious about what they were about to experience, she also felt a strange arousal between her skirt. The shadow behind the screen seemed to undulate with the beat of the music and the sound of small bell-like tassels accompanied her exotic dance steps.
Peter remained very quiet. Nina dry swallowed. She felt very strange about watching this rather erotic shadow play, and her anxious mind was compounded by the unexpected wetness streaming down between her legs.
“Welcome to the lair of the Satyress – all woman, all beast,” said the voice from behind the screen, “Some call me a freak. Some say I am an abomination – but you can call me Goddess.”
A goddess thought Nina. Her heart beat faster at this thought. And with these words, the figure with the moves of an exotic belly dancer stepped out from behind the screen. Her face was covered in a netted veil – the small horns denoted she was not quite human.
As she began to move to the pulsing beat of the music, her heavy ethnic jewellery made a distinctive jingle and clatter. Her clothing fabric swished like satin and the gossamer thinness gave Nina a good look at her ample breasts. Beneath her waistline, a heavier material concealed her secret – prolonging the ritualistic display.
Nina watched the freak as she glided across the carpeted floor her dance becoming more and more erotic with every step. She coaxed the young boy forward from his seated position until he was kneeling directly in front of the freak. Peter starred unapolgetcally. Despite her discrete facial coverings, the freak’s piercing eyes stared back at her spellbound audience of two. They both panted with elevated breath.
The Satyress twisted and turned slowly to the erotic pulse. Peter watched as her stomach muscles flexed in and out quivering perfectly to the beat. He quivered with her every movement. Her pelvic thrusts draw their eyes down and her swaying breasts draw their eyes back upwards. The Satyress provocatively removed her top – as her hands openly fondled the milky white flesh of her ample bosom. It was captivating to watch – their eyes followed her every slight movement as they became hypnotized by the Satyress’ dance.
“Undress yourself … for your Goddess,” directed the freak to the young boy, who had become mesmerized by the dancer’s every gyrating sensual movement.
His eyes looked deeply into her magnetic glare, hypnotized, as his small hands animated without conscious thought, as the freak dominated his young and impressionable brain. In a moment, his clothes were gone, and he remained kneeling naked before the Satyress – his little penis throbbed upwards in a solute and seemed to pulse with a mind of its own to the rhythmical beat of these primeval sounds.
Turning her attention momentarily back to his mother.
“Undress … for your Goddess … and pleasure yourself, while you watch your son fornicate with me,” she said.
The Satyress’ words were more than tantalizing. They inspired wickedness that was all-consuming and that seemed to cry for release. The Satyress’ bidding could not be ignored. For an unexplainable reason, her eyes could not keep from roaming over the body of the freak, from her captivating figure to the sheerness of the upper portion of her clothing that displayed her deliciously, firm breasts – Nina wanted so much to suck those long, hard nipples.
Her mind was filled will images of crouching nude before this exotic creature and sinking her mouth around the Satyress’ pronounced labia, passionately tonguing its dripping cunt even drinking from the exotic, yellow fountain of her urethra.
Nina excitedly, but nervously, stripped as she was told and eagerly began to masturbate with one hand, caressing her breasts, and the other rubbing her stiff clit. She watched this strange creature as it seemed to liberate her most vile and hidden perverted passions. Urolagnia. Bestial love. Incest. Her mind was filled with the darkest of her fetishes.
She watched her son, Peter, as he knelt naked and very erect. Incestuous thoughts shoivered through her — thoughts of sucking his pre-teen cock, until it shot boy jism into the back of her throat — as the freak began to strip. Removing the concealing material wrapped around the Satyress’ waistline. Peter and his mother collectively gasped in repulsion and unexpected excitement.
Where there should be legs, there were hairy hinds of an Artiodactyla with thick animal-like hair extended right up to the top of the Satyress’ thighs, and where there should be feet, there were the cloven hooves of a beast. Where there should be a vagina, there was a long pizzle extending outwards, throbbing and dripping with animalistic precum.
The Satyress rubbed her pizzle first across the boy’s face, pushing it between his open lips, as he froze from the sheer surprise. Nina watched, as her son seemed suddenly animated by its shocking length and girth, as he began to grip it — then lick it, then suck it with glee — as if hypnotised by its sheer filth. The boy was panting and drooling from his efforts to please the Satyress. His hand had been wrapped around his boy-cock, rubbing himself as his head bobbed up and down.
The Satyress then turned to Nina. Without words, she too began to give oral worship to the creature, licking, touching, sucking it, as if her life depended upon it. Her cunt was on fire. Her busy fingers fucked her oily cunt hole. She could think of nothing more than pleasuring the beast. Offering her sin to it. Her mind filled with carnal delights … from oral to anal — she pictured her young boy, sliding down its veined length until it almost spilt him in two.
“Worship your Goddess – offer yourselves to me.”
The Satyress gathered them both around her, front and back, as they knelt in unholy, naked prayer. Little Peter’s tongue licked the demon’s hairy anus, lapping at it like a delicious treat — while Nina continued to fellate the Satyr’s pizzle.
xxxxx
ACT FOUR (1,193 WORDS)
The dark crimson lighting began to fade, first to black, and then golden amber. Again, like turning the page of an enchanted book, the circular stage began to revolve away from view, so that the Phallic Temple, with its unholy cock-priestesses and the sodomized child, quickly disappeared.
The new scene revealed a horror-movie-like dungeon scene. In the obscure amber lighting — it foretold of the dark, medieval, and menacing story yet to come. Crying of despair seemed like music to the ears of the audience.
“Man has always been known for his excesses,” announced the manipulative Masturbatrix as precum dripped from her enormous cock, “Yet his religions dismiss and deny his baser of instincts. Their religious leaders preach obedience, asceticism, and self-denial. They dispense their crooked punishment of divine retribution for those who fail to abstain or fall to the temptations of worldly sin — if only in their minds.
“Yet, these same zealots secretly participate in the most profane of acts and dark rituals, covertly worshipping the very same demons that they hypocritically disapprove of — and it is to this discord that our next scene unfolds — where the Deacons of the Devil and the Bishops of the Baphomet prey on those that cannot defend themselves … where the meek don’t inherit anything but the pleasure of the evil, as they steal their worldly possessions, strip them of social rank, force them to confess to being heritics — only worthy of torture, rape, and death!”
An amber spotlight shone down upon a naked choir of young boys who stood in unison upon a podium to one side of the main stage. Obscured by little demon-like masks, covering the upper part of their faces, they all began to sing and masturbate simultaneously. Their trill, staccato voices rang out. The sickly sweetness of their high-pitched voices seemed almost soothing, yet the lyrics proclaimed a lurid, blasphemous message — just like demonic whispers from the abyss.
“Unholy sex demon, with fire and chains, I surrender all, embrace your pain. In your deviant wrath, I’ll find my grace, As your perverted lust takes its place.”
The audience spontaneously clapped rapturous in appreciation, yet anxious in anticipation, of more unholiness and unbridled blasphemy to come. Like the choir, the audience themselves, now, were all naked. Some were already copulating in their immoral arousal. Like the Ring Mistress, their Masturbatrix, they too had long left any chaste inclinations behind, completely absorbed in the evil of the Carnival of Sin. As men fucked men. Women fucked women. Mothers raped daughters. Fathers molested sons.
“Come forward — you know who you are — cum and fulfil your nefarious desires,” said the Masturbatix.
A young man from the audience eagerly jumped up and joined the Ring Mistress on the circular stage. He looked about nineteen years of age. Without further instruction, he knelt before the Masturbatrix and began to eagerly fellate her. Her cock was far too big to fit in the youth’s mouth, so he gripped her cock tightly, rubbing her oily shaft, cradling her heavy balls, and sucking eagerly at her fat cock-head.
“And so it was, that inquisition took thousands of young men, women, and children into their underground oubliettes, dungeons, and torture chambers. Accused and imprisoned without defense. They were never to be seen again. This is their salacious tale of human sacrifice, pain, and suffering — all presented for your sadistic pleasure!”
The dark story continued. Two stern-looking priests, dressed in their black, shapeless robes, entered the dungeon dragging a naked woman who had been accused of being a witch and a heretic. Her body appeared to have already been bruised and damaged from whatever punishment she had previously suffered.
They quickly overpowered her, lifting her upon until she was seated her upon a triangular structure, much like a horse. Her arms were held above her head, her wrists restrained by heavy manacles. The apex of this triangular contraption, pressed painfully upwards, between her spread legs and directly against her vulnerably open vagina. The dark priests laughed at her as she squirmed in discomfort.
”Confess!” they cried, “Confess, you witch! Confess your sins!”
They both made no secret of their enjoyment of her predicament, as they openly pleasured themselves as they watched her torment. They gave her no quarter, though she seemed to be begging for their mercy, they continued to secure heavy weights upon her dangling legs so that she was forced even further downwards, even harder, against their torture device.
”I confess … I confess …” she bleated.
The resolute young choir boys grinned evilly, as they too watched her, as they continued to sing their blasphemous song as the accused woman’s agonising screams disappeared into the background.
“Unholy sex demon, with fire and chains, I surrender all, embrace the pain. In your deviant wrath, I’ll find my grace, As your perverted lust takes its place.”
The amber spotlights move against the backdrop illuminating similar victims. All of them hanging by blackened chains, naked, exposed, and wriggling in torment — or maybe it was in masochistic pleasure? — their cries changing from pain to strangely orgasmic moans as these wretched souls appeared to dance in perpetual agony, enjoying the sexual torments of their perverted inquisitors — their aroused genitals depicting their pleasure in pain.
Now, the sadistic priests discarded their gowns, displaying their complete excitement. Standing naked, their hard cocks stood upright, dripping with anticipation. They both bowed down before the Masturbatrix as if she were an essential part of their debauched story. She pointed to the naked young boy kneeling at her feet, as a x-shaped cross descended from above the stage.
They grabbed hold of the nineteen-year-old boy and pulled him to his feet. His hands and head pressed awkwardly forward into a heavy wooden “stock”. It was a simple device with holes just big enough to hold its victim by the wrists and neck, forcing the young naked boy to lean forward at the waist.
“And so, by Papal decree, began the golden age of sexual deviants. Nobody was safe from its evil grasp. Nobody could object. There was no justice. Only our demonic pleasure! The reign of sexual dysphoria through human agony and misery had begun and would last for centuries. As we feed upon their sufferance, and pleasured ourselves upon their oppression, our evil loins rejoiced at their distress and dismay … a time of such openly perverse and wickedness!”
The priests stood back, stroking their dripping cocks, as the Masturbatrix stepped behind the young boy’s exposed backside. Her hand caressed his genitals and then his anus — stroking him gently and wantonly — then she lifted her whip high in the air. There was the whooshing sound and the crack of the whip as it landed mercilessly against his youthful skin.
His gasps were quickly quelled, as the priests took turns in forcing their cocks into the boy’s mouth — like a human gag. And the choir masturbated and sang in sickly sweetness as the whip fell upon the boy over and over.
“Unholy sex demon, with fire and chains, I surrender all, embrace the pain. In your deviant wrath, I’ll find my grace, As your perverted lust takes its place.”
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THE SNAKE CHARMER (1,732 WORDS)
Inside the snake charmer’s enclosure, both Tyne and his twin sister, Aadi, began to feel the tropical heat. Tyne felt the sweat trickle down his pretty face as they sat cross-legged upon the traditionally decorative floor rugs, sipping their specially brewed herbal tea.
The circular chamber was decorated in such a way as to promote the idea of being inside an Indian bizarre in the city of Bhubaneswar in the state of Odisha, well-known for having a significant snake population. Maybe those details escaped the young couple — as they were both too excited by the prospect of watching a cobra snake dance before their eyes.
They were identical in height and weight. Their floorless translucent skin and spiky platinum blond hair were striking – almost surreal. They both had an unusually androgynous look about them; with Aadi’s small breasts and Tyne’s slender shape; with the right attire, they could have passed either as a set of male or female twins.
The sleazy, Indian snake swami quietly observed them. Two twins. “Two” in numerology is associated with ophidians. Was that significant? Or was it more important that they were twins? How would his offer be seen by the Snake Goddess, Surasa (a horned she-demon who was also the goddess of the cannibalistic Rakshasis from Hindu mythology)?
His hand smoothed the edge of his straggly beard. He liked the appearance of the twin young twins. His thick, black cock moved beneath his lungi, a traditional loose skirt, pressing upwards as it filled with a surge of hot blood, fueled by his dark desires. Everything was, as the Surasa intended. Their corruption and eventual sacrifice would be so pleasurable and so deviant.
Aadi could not help but stare, at the snake tattoos that covered the snake swami’s hairless torso. They seemed to cover every portion of his exposed skin. There was something creepy about him and weird about the situation that had brought them into the snake pit. She couldn’t quite put her mind around it, and the more she tried to concentrate on it, the more elusive the thought had become. At the time, both of them had been captivated by the idea of the dying art of snake charming – it held something alluring.
The swami dusted his snakeskin waistcoat that lay across the dark tattooed skin of his bare chest. He looked up, from his kneeling position, at the expecting couple and smiled with brilliant white teeth. He deliberately spoke slowly due to his heavy accent.
“So in this world, the snake world, it is mind-over-matter. The material world is one-dimensional in comparison with the complexity of the spirit world. The legend of the horned-serpent goddess, Surasa goes back to the fringes of time itself,” he smiled wickedly.
“In the time of the ancient gods, humans did not confuse conscience and sub-conscience thoughts, as they instinctively knew that they were guided in their actions by the gods themselves – but as the gods left the earth, to reside amongst the stars, one god remained grounded and connected to the human psyche. There is no such thing as free will — do you believe in fate my young ones?”
Tyne and Aadi nodded as they listened intensely to the snake charmer’s sing-song voice, that slithered through his ancient yarn. His rhetorical question had no real answer from their lips, as the heavy perfume of incense mixed with his hypnotic voice. Their eyelids felt heavy and their bodies lethargic. He already could feel the control he had over their naïve thoughts and actions.
“Come. Come. Come closer to the Naga Pithu — snake pit — now. So that you can both be blessed by Surasa, herself. Come closer. Look. There’s nothing to be afraid of here.”
His hand lowered into the deep wicker basket and lifted the wriggling body of a long black snake into view – its body immediately coiled around his forearm as he showed the innocent couple the snake’s shiny scales.
“Snakes have been revered by many cultures. Surasa, the snake goddess was worshipped in great erotic rituals. For she was the goddess of sexuality and fertility. The horned serpent was there in the Garden of Eden. The androgynous devas [demon] snake goddess brought Adam and Eve the gift of consciousness – awaking them from the immortal sleep, to taste the forbidden fruit of lust and to first experience carnal desire.”
The snake charmer placed a long snake around the neck of the young girl. Aadi smiled nervously at her brother, putting on a brave face, but inside, feeling a potent mixture of anxiety and excitement. It felt warm against her bare shoulders and as it moved, she could feel its muscles expand and contract. The snake hissed.
“It likes you. See, nothing to fear.”
The swami placed another long snake, similar to the first, around Tyne’s neck.
“You are both naturals at this – you were both born to give pleasure to Surasa. Yes. You are now ready to see the most elegant of all snakes, the Cobra. It is said to be the reincarnation of the Nagis, Surasa, the snake goddess herself. Some say she is an evil demon that ensnares her victims with powerful toxins for human sacrifice in maithuna [ritual sex act] yet others adore her for the gift of sexual prowess and give themselves willingly to her purpose.”
The swami began to play his wooden-carved pungi [wind instrument] and the two young ones began completely transfixed – they watched as the deadly cobra rose from the naga pitha [snake pit] and danced to the sounds of the pungi. The cobra’s hypnotic swaying movements followed the swami’s pungi like a mirror image.
As he played the hypnotic music, both twins began to feel dizzy and lightheaded from the initial effects, of the innocent-looking herbal tea spiked with potent aphrodisiacs.
The demon snake hissed her almost inaudible commands directly into the subconscious of the unsuspecting twins and Tyne felt his cock immediately swell uncomfortably inside his shorts. Aadi, also felt the wetness between her legs – her vagina was hotter and wetter than she had ever experienced before.
The swami’s nibble fingers moved across the length of his pungi as if masturbating himself through the fidgety finger movements along the length of his overtly phallic pungi. The cascade of strange sounds increased in tempo.
He moved around the circumference of the naga pitha and continued to play with vigor until he was kneeling directly behind Aadi and Tyne. They continued to stare at the dancing cobra. Taking the pungi from his lips for a moment, his forked tongue flicked across the back of Aadi’s neck as he tasted her sexual sweat. Leaning across to Tyne, he whispered into his ear.
“Take off your clothes and allow the snake to coil around your lingam [penis].”
The swami resumed his pungi playing as the boy obediently stripped naked and continued to kneel before Surasa. The snake around his neck slithered around his stiff cock, its tail dangling between his legs and its diamond-shaped head lay across the top of his pulsing penis. The snake tightened its grip around him, undulating its movements from the base to the tip of his cock, while its tiny tongue flickered on the sensitive glands beneath the cock tip. Tyne moaned lewdly in sexual abandonment.
The swami hissed into Aadi’s ear.
“Look at your brother. His cock is so delicious. Take off your clothes and allow the snake to taste your yoni [vagina].”
Aadi moved obediently, as she drawled over her brother’s body. She’d never sexually looked at him, but now she felt differently. She quickly was naked too and did as she was commanded, carefully holding the snake between her open legs as she knelt beside her naked brother.
The long snake’s tongue explores Aadi’s labia and flicks across her clitoris, making her moan in pre-orgasmic ecstasy. The snake placed its tail at the entry to her vagina and began to move in and out while still stimulating her clit. It began to drive Aadi closer to orgasm.
The swami stood up behind them both and encouraged them to get closer to each other. He hissed at Tyne, commanding him to touch his sister’s breasts, and in no time, the boy was openly fondling his twin sibling.
“Suck her ripe nipples like your mother’s. Suck them for your goddess.”
He did as the swami commanded. As the snake tightened his grip around his penis, Tyne willingly took his sister’s nipples into his mouth.
“Awaken your consciousness, young boy. Know that what you both do is wrong – to desire your twin sister is a sin, but knowing that it pleases your goddess, the perverted act is irresistible. Now tongue kiss your sister – incest is so beautiful to watch. Surasa has foretold this day – her rebirth from your unholy union will be spectacular.”
Their young mouths crashed together as the swami’s long snakes continued their genital stimulation. The swami untied his lungi and allowed it to fall to the ground.
From between the dark and hairy groin, his long and thick cock sprung forward, and with his hand, he pulled back his foreskin and pushed its purple head between the kissing twins. He now directed them both to suck along its veined length together.
“Suckle, my pure white lovers. Enjoy the taste of the snake. Soon, my lingam will be buried deep into your bowels, and my sperm will fill your guts.”
The snake that had been penetrating Aadmi, drew its wringing body deeper inside her. Her body quaked in orgasm as all but its diamond-shaped head remained exposed. Similarly, the snake that had been coiled around Tyne’s cock and balls had penetrated his anus — pressing its undulating length further and further inside the quaking boy. And then they were gone.
”Feel her inside you. Surasa Is now part of you. She is you. And you are her. Both male and female. You must join in sexual union and unite the goddess. Bring her forth at the willing forfeit of your meaningless lives, so that she may live and be served by her faithful worshippers.
The swami instructed Tyne to lie across the rug so that his twin sister could ride his rigid cock.
“Neither of you will be able to resist the perverse desires of Surasa. You will be bound to me as her sex slaves of the Surasa forever.”
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ACT FIVE (858 WORDS)
With a dramatic drum-roll, the dungeon-like stage began to quickly turn away to reveal the final climactic scene of the Carnival of Sin’s All Hallows’ Eve night!
It was as if the Carnival’s creations were no longer constrained by the boundaries of the Big Top. Above the audience, the skies turned a stormy blood-red and all around them erupted an inferno of fire — like burning pools of boiling magma with choking black smoke — they seemed to have all been transported directly to Hell itself.
At the center of the stage was indeed a huge demonic throne, set upon the skulls of the dead. And sitting upon the throne was the Ring Mistress herself. No longer just their guide through the sins of sexual debauchery — but something else, something much darker, and even more carnal.
She was like the Iblis incarnate.
Upon her head were large protruding horns. Her thin, muscular legs resembled those of the goat-beast. Her cock looked even more exaggerated against her lithe frame and pointed breasts. And her dark eyes, now burned, with vindictive wickedness, and evil intent.
The audience found themselves no longer just voyeurs of a series of bizarre circus acts. But now, active participants in the dark vigil dedicated to sodomistic fornication — that had ultimately conjured the evilest of demonic entities — the Iblis demanded their complete and utter worship and subjugation. They all fell to their knees before the perverted Throne of the demon goddess, Iblis.
“Beyond the corrupt world of the living,” the Iblis spoke loudly but with still a hint of resemblance to the story-telling vernacular of the Masturbatrix, “Here, in my underworld, of smoke and fire, of eternal torment, and endless lust — there is a place the Muslims call Jahannam. The Jews call it Gehenna. The Hindus refer to it as Naraka. In Zoroastrianism, they say it’s Druj-demana. In Sikhism, they call it Narak. And the Taoists named it Diyu — this is where you will find my Throne of the Iblis! It is an insatiable place, where the orgies of evil know no limits.”
The Iblis stood up on her animalistic hinds. Her long horse-like cock was drooling with strands of preternatural cum. The devil drums began to beat loudly, filling their ears with the rhythm of perverted lust. Their hips began to thrust back and forth. The men, women, boys, and girls … now appeared not as humans, but as demons and cambions (the sons and daughters of the Horned Serpent).
Their masturbation began again with fiendish vigor, as the sensations of the Iblis’ dark lust filled their loins. They all began to stand, then dance, then leap about with complete abandonment — making a throng of naked flesh circling the beloved Throne of their Iblis.
“Yes! You’re all my perverse ones … my Cambion children! Here in the Land of the Damned. I love you all. And for my final offering, before you return to your miserable world of the living, will be to enact every sin of carnal desire. Step forth, my blessed boy.”
A young boy of twelve stepped forward from the dancing crowd. His sweat-covered body looked frail but his cock stood upright — eager to perform profanities. With his head bowed, his eyes burned brightly with expectation.
“Your desire for a crucifixion caught my eye. Irony of the Christ-fuck! A cruel and slow way to suffer for your lustful sins. Nevertheless, an honorable way to show your complete homage to me … Peccata malorum corda, Mendes, et lumbos filiorum Iblis implant! (Let the sins of the evil fill the hearts, minds, and loins of the children of the Iblis) …”
From beneath the ground, immediately before the Throne of Iblis, a huge inverted cross began to appear. The very earth around it sank away as it hung suspended in midair of its own accord. The boy’s body too began to rise, and turn until he was upside down held by an invisible force, and then his flesh was thrown hard against the hammer beams that formed the inverted cross. Nails flew throw the air to pierce his wrists and ankles. His screams of agony were lost in the lustful cries of his sadistic audience.
”Yes! Let the great feast begin and ritual of human sacrifice!” groaned the Iblis as she stood up from the throne, “Let the memory of the night-of-nights be burned into your psychos forever — until my Carnival returns again — to set you free!”
The devil’s drums called out for more blood and semen. No longer male or female, all the Children of Iblis were besowed with cocks and vaginas. Hot steam rose from the dark red soil beneath their bare dancing hooves. Once more, the horned ones began to fornicate with each other — hermaphrodite demons fucking indiscriminately — no longer divisible by age or sex. The flesh of the wicked, entangled in a circular throng of thrusting and groaning coitus.
The Iblis stepped down from her skull throne to join her orgy of pervertedness. Soon her tainted seed would flow into their vaginas and anuses. Its corruptive power would fill their minds with sexual insanity. They would fuck and suck until oblivion.
xxxxx
EPILOGUE (279 WORDS)
It was the first of November. Father Byron stood on the broken ground where the carnival had been located. There were only a few indications of it having been there. Some stray confetti, streamers, food wrappers and drink containers, part of a painted banner, and some handbills announcing their arrival. It would be another year to await until the carnival came back to the fringe of their town. What an exciting show it had been. So many strange and unexplainable events.
Returning to his modest congregation, he recognized more than a few patrons from carnival night. Was it the carnival that brought out the worst in them? Or was it a calling to their secret cesspool of sexual perverts? Worshipper, not of the Abrahamic god but of the evil Iblis — The twins, Tyne and Aadi. Lucy and her younger sister, Lily. Young Peter and his mother, Nina. There seemed to be a curious connection between them all, like an unspoken pack between the selected sixty-six. So many wicked minds, dark hearts, and perverted lusts.
Father Byron smiled with a peculiar grin. It was like a half-formed dream or fantasy lingering in his mind. But then again, he’d been bestowed a gift from its carnival demons — enabled him to suck his cock — and as the thought of his own carnal experience, self-fellatio, and masturbation formed in his mind, he couldn’t wait to pleasure himself this way.
The carnival was gone. He wondered where it would go next. Its omnipresent perversions peddled at the next stop … luring, tempting, corrupting, and perverting … maybe it will be at your village, inviting you to get your dark and twisted thrills?
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THE END?
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