DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The content of the story is not representative of 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 any unlawful activity such as is depicted in the story. 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 that they are depicting but they remain at all times adults. All Rights Reserved © 2023 LITTLESALLY666.
STORY CODES: LGBT themes, Cohesion, Corruption, Lolita, NC, Rape, Bondage, Sadism, WS, Some Scat, Drug use, MC, Black Magic, Devil Worship, Demons, and Evil themes.
AUTHOR NOTES: Special thank you to my friend Dev Hunter for his inspiration for this story.
CREATED: 16.09.2016 / REVISITED: 27.07.2023
Hanging Man 2
THE SECRET ABOUT THE HANGING MAN
The ‘hanging man’ is depicted as a youth that hangs from a living tree upside down. One foot is crossed in a T-cross position. Even though he hangs above the earth, he is still connected through contact with the tree. Though suspended and inanimate, he has attained some measure of appreciation of this path of life and death, of good and evil. He has been hunting for something and through the quiet reflection from being restrained; he finds that what he seeks may not be what he thought it was in the first place. Obedience in stillness brings authentic faith, not from what is perceived but from what is deeper within. Be it goodness from godliness or evil from the demonic. The inner truth of one’s self is realized actuated and activated. What do you expect from the sacrifices you are making? What are you devoted to? How are you hung up? What do you need to give up? What are you trying to escape?
HANGING MAN – CHAPTERS 4 TO 6 – SYNOPSIS
Father Joseph saw things in a very different way. He had been tasked by his late mentor to ‘hunt the devil’ and in doing so discover the grace of God Almighty. But something strange had occurred. He seemed to be stuck between the hours 8.00 pm and 8.00 am of the same day — over and over. No matter what he did, there seemed to be no consequence, no retribution.
At first, he was unsure of what he should do. What was God’s plan for him? But soon he discovered that within these simple constraints, he was actually free — free to do whatever he wanted. Was this a test of his beliefs, his piousness, his devotion to serve the heavenly father?
Was this an elaborate trick of the Devil or some kind of demonic gift? All he knew was that his search for the Adversary had led to this state — where he experienced an overwhelming urge to indulge himself; to mock and defy all he held dearly; to reach new depths of depravity and corruption with each and every awakening …
HANGING MAN – CHAPTER 4 (2,091 WORDS)
“Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.” John Milton from paradise lost.
Joseph crossed the crowded street. His eyes caught a glimpse of something that seemed to be out of place here. He had walked this very street now more than three dozen times at the very same time following the very same route. Why had not he noticed it before? He turned his head towards the direction of the incongruity and could have sworn he caught a glimpse of his mentor, Father O’Brien, moving towards the entry of the decrepit old ‘Grand Cinema’.
His eye, momentarily distracted by the dubious double-billing features of seventies porn – a lewd and luscious double of horrific pornography unapologetically exploring the raunchiest depths of human instinctive desire for primal violence and sex. Tonight, as every night since Joseph’s repetitive experience began, the local sleaze pit was bustling with wanton solo masturbators, all eager for an eyeful of cheap taboo-busting smut. It was a fleapit of degradation. Was it Father O’Brien or someone who looked remarkably like him from this acute angle? Joseph was not sure. But he did not want to waste any more time, as he didn’t want to be late.
Reaching his final destination, Joseph stepped into the entranceway of the small nightclub bar called, “The Horned One.” Frequented by the colorful GLBT crowd, in its sleazy dullness Joseph felt the power of his anonymity. The venue had been suggested by Joseph’s black transgendered acquaintance, Toria, as the place to discretely meet his friend, Benjamin. They had not seen each other since they were both horny fourteen years old, back in his early seminary days.
The slim transvestite, collecting the cover charge, did not even look up at the priest, as Joseph passed him a twenty and strolled into the darkened interior. Joseph ordered a drink from the bar and then made a beeline for a small corner booth that faced the entry. From there he would be able to catch sight of his guest.
Joseph and Benjamin had been alone together that evening fifteen years ago, he recalled as if it were yesterday. Everyone else was in the seminal chapel for evening prayer time. It was there; in that bleach-sterile communal shower block of the old school block, that Joseph had found himself unexpectedly aroused whilst looking through the hot steaminess at Benjamin’s white nudity. Joseph liked his slenderness, puny limbs, and the shadowy concavity of his backside.
There was something about his pronouncedly boney hips and the way his wet dirty-blond hair was plastered across the high cheekbones of his girlish face. This moment seemed frozen in Joseph’s mind, as he watched young Ben first touch himself between the legs, stroking his flaccidness to a rock-hard erection.
His penis looked disproportionately large against his frail thin body, suggestive of something serpent-like growing upwards from between his open legs. There was something beautiful in its carnal animation. Benjamin slowly rubbed the veined length of his lewd flesh as he stared unblinkingly and directly into Joseph’s eyes. Joseph could only stand and gawp in complete disbelief.
Ben, of course, had noticed Joseph’s reciprocated hardness and grinned wickedly, making the stroking motions more obvious as he moved his fist faster and faster – making a spectacle of his masturbation show. Joseph wanted desperately to reach out and touch the boy’s freaky long cock – he wanted to lick it, suck it and take it into the back of his throat. He wanted to feel their hot wet bodies press against each other, to feel their fleshy rods rub urgently against each other. Oh, the wickedness! The glorious wickedness! They both knew it would be a violation, a transgression like no other, an ungodly act, even to think of what they both desired in itself was unforgivable, a depraved sacrilege!
It had been Ben who playfully announced that he would “suck him off” … if Joseph would agree to kneel down with him and pray to the devil. Joseph was shaking from uncontrollable desire and sexual lust. Cock-sucking lust. But, somehow, Joseph managed to turn away. The fear of God gripped him tightly. He felt an instant remorsefulness that he could not shake.
He was not only deeply ashamed of his needs but felt utter disgust for Ben’s outrageous suggestion. He rebuffed Ben’s deviant proposition, turning away and running naked out of the shower to hide himself – somewhere, anywhere. He must be away from this primal temptation. He needed urgent atonement for his vile sins. He needed God to somehow forgive these unclean thoughts. The surety of his place in heaven was now at risk.
It was only much later that Joseph felt deep regret for abandoning his companion that night. He found that he was then destined to relive it, in all its naked glory, over and over and over, revisiting that dark experience in frantic masturbation in the proceeding years, exploring alternative scenarios, each more perverted and blasphemous that the next, in his desire for demonic pilgrimage.
Earlier that same night back in the seminary, there had been the discovery of Benjamin’s private notebook. Joseph had felt ashamed of himself for prying. It was an invasion of Ben’s privacy, but still, he was compelled to investigate — his curious mind overcoming his sense of respect for his fellow student.
It had started as if this personal journal were like any other, dedicated to highly intimate praise. At the seminary, all students were encouraged to keep one, as a way of consolidating their thoughts on belief, worship, and their religious commitments. But Benjamin’s personal journal was not about the god of their seminary or of the holy church. Instead, it was filled with strange words and symbols, of hex and incantations, spells of conjuring of things very unsavory.
There were even words of worship to the Lord of Darkness, Satan himself, and to bring forth the pleasure of sex demons. Joseph’s eyes could not believe what they were reading, but what was more disturbing to him, was that his own genitals had reacted in an unnatural manner to Benjamin’s words and the accompanying crude sketches depicting demonic pleasures — rituals of phallic worship; of naked priests masturbating both themselves and each other; standing before their excited brethren, urinating over their kneeing worshipers offering them some kind of evil communion. Other images depicted bestial sex between horses and devotees, the consumption of feces, and the subjugation of younger children.
What was he thinking? How could Benjamin have penned down such blasphemous thoughts and demented ideas? And in self-disgust, how could Joseph allow himself to touch his own erection whilst feasting his eyes upon such sacrilegious perversity? God would strike him down! He would burn in infernal hell for his transgression! But that did not seem to deter Joseph from continuing his inquiry — in fact, it seemed to intensify his self-pleasuring.
Turning the cum-stained pages of Benjamin’s personal journal, the evil theme remained, as the depth of depravity sank deeper and deeper. Benjamin’s wild scribbling and accompanying hieroglyphics clearly showed the extolment of well-endowed phallic and hermaphrodite-like daemons (with both the breasts of a woman and the erect penis of a man); of urine drinking, of inverted crucifixes drawn on worshipers chests in their own feces; of the sodomy of unwilling altar boys or boy whores impaled in human sacrifice before their bloody castration. His drawings showed the ‘Priests of Hell’ naked but for their long black stoles, wearing the bloody and severed sex organs around their necks as ornaments of demonic praise.
Joseph stroked himself faster and faster. The thrill built until he reached an uncontrollable climax – ejaculated over the filthy pages of his friend’s personal journal, spilling his own seed and adding it to that of Benjamin’s previous dried emissions.
Looking back, Joseph often wondered why the journal had appeared that night. Why had it been so easily discovered? Had the book been deliberately left for him to find? Had Benjamin witnessed his thrill at such devilment? His unforgivable transgression! Oh God Almighty! Was that why he had invited him to the bathhouse that night – to somehow initiate him into this dark and highly sexualized world of demonic praise? He would never know.
Now, in the light of all that had happened to him, and in his own search for the devil incarnate, he had reached out to find his long-lost friend from the seminary. What he now referred (to himself) as his ‘awakenings’, that moment that reset everything backward to the same moment, like a glitch in time, had brought him to a new understanding of everything. Father O’Brien, his mentor, had said plainly …
“You must ‘hunt for the devil’. Face the Adversary of your fears. For the Devil is the Father of lies. He is the maestro of sexual obsession and masturbation: of pornography and fornication, of prostitution and adultery, and homosexuality and sodomy. They are all his lies that blind you from the truth and lead you away from his golden pathway for his heavenly redemption.”
With all that he had already experienced; the corruption of the young boy, Billy, and his mother, Kalindra; his voyeurism in the retched toilets; his destruction of the St. Stephen’s Chapel and his outburst of blasphemy; the urine-drenched orgy with the transsexual prostitutes; it seemed true, that no matter what he said or did, he would always awaken in the darkened light of the chapel – no matter what evil he visited, what shockingly depraved acts he performed, it would be to no avail. No punishment. No consequences. No judgment.
Was this the workings of the devil?
Was this purgatory or hell in its own right? Whatever it was, Joseph could not deign that there were distinctly pleasurable memories in each and every sin. His mind was filled with wanton possibilities. He wanted more – much, much more.
It had taken several of these, “Awakenings” to first locate a private detective prepared to track down his ex-seminary schoolmate (in one single night) and then, with a few false starts, reach Benjamin and set up the meeting at, “The Horned One.”
Joseph’s stomach turned in somersaults. He bubbled with sexual butterflies of anticipation of this apotheosis, during what seemed like a long wait – in fact, it was probably only minutes. The strangely attired crowd in the grimy nightclub bar was still thin. When Joseph first arrived there had only been a few patrons drinking at the bar, some rather ugly queens gathered around a round table exchanging bombastic laughs. Now the rest of the hardcore regulars had begun to arrive in all their S&M regalia and cross-dressing elegance. Joseph kept to himself.
“Joseph?” asked the slim silhouette that stepped up to his booth.
“Ben,” he replied.
Ben slid his weight into the small booth so that they were both pressed together facing forward, looking into the crowd. Joseph smiled to himself, as he felt their silent and perverted reunion begin. The enigmatic crowd milled around them, paying no notice to the two young men dressed as priests in a sex fetish bar. Ben wasted no time in stroking Joseph’s inner thigh beneath his long gown.
“To the devil,” said Ben as they clinked glasses.
“To the devil,” replied Joseph, “What’s in the bag?”
“Some paraphernalia for our first little ritual. I wanted to be prepared. This is such an exquisite moment, don’t you think?” replied Ben.
“Yes, it is. I have rented a room upstairs.”
“Oh, how wonderful. Doing the devil’s work makes me so fucking horny,” replied Ben, his hand now pressing against Joseph’s erection.
Joseph tried to stifle his long groan. Though he was sure that similar couplings were happening in all the other dark little booths – strangers exchanging sexual favors … creaming themselves in abhorrent liaisons. Joseph’s breathing was very shallow. After a pause, he leaned heavily against Ben, saying.
“I saw your personal journal … and I thought it was so fucking hot!”
Ben grinned evilly.
“I planned it that way,” he answered.
“Oh, I kind of thought that you did, but I wasn’t completely sure until now … all these years ago now – yet it seems like only yesterday! I was so fucking turned on. I came so hard!”
“I smelt your sweet jism all over the pages Joseph.”
“And … that night in the bathhouse … you looked incredible! You know, I really wanted to stay.”
“I know you did. Are you going to run out on me again?”
“Fuck no. Let’s go upstairs.”
HANGING MAN – CHAPTER 5 (1,912 WORDS)
They wasted no time, departing the sleazy little club via a cramped steep staircase to the upper floors. Joseph unlocked the door to the room that he had rented earlier, before Ben’s arrival. Inside the small, dingy room looked splendid in all its corrupted promise of all-night forbidden copulation. The miasma of pine-o-clean masked the baser odors of the perverted sexual acts of previous occupants.
Though the room offered seclusion and privacy, the paper-thin walls did little to muffle the sounds of the street three stories below; the groans from an unknown coupling next door; and the voodoo bass beat rising up from the basement nightclub. A single naked bulb lit the room that comprised a simple dresser, a television, a chair, a double bed, and a mottled mirrored wardrobe – all of which had seen much better days with their faded shabbiness.
Joseph closed and locked the door behind him. He was sweating from the night’s humidity, as well as from the heat of anticipation. He caught their reflection him the rust-pitted mirror on the closet door. They had both grown up — but somehow there was symmetry in their reunion after more than a decade. Hunting the adversary had necessitated this … even blessed this unholy act! Ben pulled him close and their groins immediately pressed urgently against one another – as Joseph had wanted to do all those years ago. He groaned into Ben’s open mouth as they roughly tongue-fucked each other’s mouths
“Oh Fuck!” moaned Joseph as Ben’s fingers eagerly groped at Joseph’s erection through the thin material of his priestly gown.
“My offer still stands,” said Ben mischievously.
“That you will ‘suck me off’ if I pray to the devil with you?” laughed Joseph.
“What exactly would have that entailed … you know, as two young seminary boys … alone in the shower?”
“I hated god then – I hate him even more now! I hated being one of his fucking little followers. God Almighty, that cunt in heaven looking down on us all? Fuck, I would rather bow down to the Devil’s cock any day! Only through the Devil, did I ever feel free … free of doctrine that deigned me every emotion, every passion, and every pleasure I had ever wanted. We had only to enjoy the sins of the flesh together and that was enough to show the Devil our desires to serve him.”
“But now? You have something more elaborate in mind?”
“Oh yes, sweet Joseph! Yes, I do. Come let us prepare,” hissed Ben in a sibilant whisper as he began to strip naked.
Once he had removed his dark priestly robe, Benjamin emptied the content of his large black bag onto the bed. Joseph looked longingly at Ben’s naked body. It still looked almost as immature in its scrawny, pale white, and hairless state as it did all those years ago in the seminal shower room. Ben’s erect cock looked even bigger – its girth and length of abnormal dimensions, standing upright against his childish little frame.
Benjamin had brought all manner of theatrical instruments to mock God Almighty and worship the Devil in his rites of blasphemy and the Black Mass – there were silver chalices, the host, holy water, ritual knives, black candles, the Satanic Bible, a Baphomet statue and an inverted crucifix formed from interconnecting phalluses.
Joseph eagerly joined Benjamin in his nakedness; his hand, in its own excited proclivity, wrapped around his stiff member that dripped with pre-cum. He slowly masturbated himself watching Benjamin began to arrange their Satanic altar and the demonic instruments of their imminent dark communion. Benjamin donned a long black stole covered with elaborate occult sigils and gave a similar one to Joseph to wear.
“I have something to say, and it’s going to sound a little crazy,” interrupted Joseph, “What if I told you that it didn’t matter whatever we did tonight?”
Ben stopped and stood next to him. He placed Joseph’s hand upon his rigid flesh as he took over masturbating his priest-lover.
“Nothing sounds crazy to me. Believe me. And it does matters … to me.”
“That isn’t exactly what I mean. What if in your search for the Adversary, you found yourself in a kind of purgatory? Like you were suspended in time. That you were doomed to repeat the same night, over and over, never-ending?
“And in that place, you could do whatever you desired without consequence?”
“Yes. Yes, like no limits. I mean fucking no limits!” added Joseph enthusiastically, “Whatever you did, no matter how corrupt and evil — sodomy, blasphemy, and cohesion … even if you were to seduce the under-aged … that the next night, it would be as if it never happens – except, you’d know what you did … what you enjoyed … and could do it again and again and again?”
“Sounds like a demonic fantasy come true. No consequences. No repercussions. No punishment for evil deeds. Fucking hot man! My cock is creaming just at the thought of it! I mean, think of it Joseph – we could have sex with young children and even fuck babies? We could even kill someone – bath in their blood – make them a human sacrifice to our horned gods!”
“Yer. That’s what I thought …” Joseph paused.
He wanted to tell Ben exactly what was happening to him and to explain that it was not so far-fetched a situation, but he did not.
Ben led Joseph to the edge of the bed. He then knelt on the floor between his open legs and began licking and sucking at Joseph’s needy rod. He wrapped his saliva-wet lips around the crown of Joseph’s cock at the same moment his slender digits expertly explored his ball sacks and pressed against his shit-slimy nether-hole. Ben’s tongue lavished the length of his lover’s taking its entire length into his throat. Joseph luxuriated for the moment, pressing Ben’s head down further on the length of his rod. Fuck it felt so fucking good. The Devil be praised!
“Wait … there is something missing,” announced Joseph, “Hell’s priests cannot perform a Black Mass orgy with a human sacrifice.”
Joseph stood up and moved towards the bathroom. He opened the bathroom door and dragged Billy from inside. The young boy was naked, bound, and gagged – his small body stunk of his own urine. Ben looked on in silence.
“No limits remember. No consequences. No repercussions. No punishment …” stated Joseph.
“Oh my …” stuttered Benjamin.
“I will take care of everything. You have nothing to fear. No repercussions to either of us. Don’t ask me how; I will just take care of it. We will corrupt him together for the glory of Satan!”
“Oh fuck. FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” exclaimed Benjamin.
At first, Billy was recalcitrant and struggled against his bindings as Joseph and Benjamin pulled him from the small bathroom and into their makeshift demonic shrine. He was surrounded by the trappings of satanic ritual, black candles, burning incense, and the statue of the erect Baphomet. Benjamin and Joseph were eager to appease their dark god … to elicit his reluctant cooperation and corrupt him into the worship of sex demons.
“Billy, you know me. It’s Father Joseph.”
Billy blinked in recognition. He had the look of someone accepting what he sees because he believed that he was still asleep.
“Billy, you came to the Chapel of St. Steven’s tonight, remember?”
The boy nodded timidly. He seemed to relax somewhat, not completely at ease, but no longer quite as panicky – and after a short while, Billy looked less fearful and more curious about what they were up to – to him it looked like something from a Halloween party.
Billy remembered running away to the sanctuary of the church. Father Joseph had answered the door. He had brought in inside the chapel. However he did not remember the part after Joseph had brought him to the refectory, and then secretly injected him with something to knock him out to facilitate the boy’s abduction.
Billy never knew that the “good father” had stripped him naked, bound, and gagged him in readiness for their obscene ritual offering. He had awoken in a groggy state in unfamiliar surroundings. He found himself completely naked, lying on the grubby bathroom floor. He was not sure how long he had been there, in only the company of a rhythmically dripping tap.
He could not move far. His hands and legs were restrained effectively. Lifting his head was an effort. He could not cry out for help as the ball gap prevented him. He had been desperate to empty his bladder, and in the absence of any other alternative, he had peed himself whilst he lay on the floorboards. In the quietness, he was sure he could hear the scratching of insects in the crawl space beneath him.
Now Joseph removed his tight ball gag from his sore mouth. Billy gasped for fresh air, saliva streaming from his open mouth and nostrils. Joseph untied the rest of his bindings. Billy rubbed the skin of his wrist where the bindings had left some redness.
Joseph smiled in his disarming and reassuring way. Billy returned the smile as if now awakening from a strange dream and pleased to see a familiar face. He looked around the hotel room.
“Where are we, Father?” he asked.
“Somewhere safe and very private,” answered Joseph, “This is Father Benjamin,” he added, as Benjamin moved into view.
“We’re all playing a special game today. You want to play with us?” asked Ben with an enigmatic grin.
Knowing Billy’s previous transgression in earlier, “Awakenings” – it didn’t take too much coaching. Billy was very curious about everything and soon he was happily joining in and playing this perverted little game with the two highly aroused priests. Joseph told him about all the fun they could have in Devil worship. They made Billy’s cock the center of their attention, both taking turns in pleasuring the young boy with their hands and mouths. Ben exchanged knowing glances with his co-conspirator as they took full advance of the boy’s naivety.
They got Billy to dance provocatively before the statue of the Baphomet, to dance and masturbate himself in a mock prayer to their dark god. Joseph encouraged him to stick the host into his dirty little anus. They got Billy to urinate into their silver chalice until it brimmed with sweet boy piss; then empty the contents of his bowels upon the sacred silver plate, embossed with the face of Jesus Christ. Billy first tasted his own urine, as the three took gulps from the chalice, then licked the slimy length of his own feces as the priests encouraged him to do so.
Laying Billy face up on the stripped mattress, both Joseph and Benjamin soaked him down, drenching him in their salty urine flows. Then, making him crouch on all fours, they both took turns, one sodomizing him, while the other fucked his mouth as they prepared to offer the boy as their atonement to the Devil.
Benjamin gasped in his private ecstasy as he held the boy upright against his heaving body in a tight stranglehold, his long thick cock buried deep into the boy’s filthy tight bowels – Billy’s eyes closed, as he winced in alternating pain and pleasure, his boy-boner bouncing up and down in reaction to the urgency of Ben’s rhythmical thrusting.
Joseph masturbated frantically as he imagined just how far he could take this twisted game.
HANGING MAN – CHAPTER 6 (2,241 WORDS)
Joseph awoke. He found himself sitting in the last of the wooden pew. The clock on the church wall announced that it was eight o’clock in the evening. The chapel looked as it did every time he awakened there. He rubbed himself as he looked upon the Ten Commandments.
You shall not murder.
Instead of crossing the crowded street as he had done previously, Joseph walked towards the decrepit old cinema. Again, the hairs on the back of his neck seemed to stand as he did so. This was a sign? He remembered how he had thought he had caught a glimpse of something that did not seem to fit with this scene that he had participated in numerous times.
His eyes studied the rather dubious double-billing features of seventies porn and smiled. It was a lewd and luscious double of monkey-spanking sick pornography from an era where filmmakers were rebelling against all social norms; putting sadism into sex. It was a toxic mixture that demanded the most lewdness of depravity and amoral sexuality — packaged in the filthy, sweaty-pig sex wrappings of Gothic symbolism, and decadent imagery where both storylines and themes seem to be derived from a pulp novel of the supernatural and outré.
Standing among the swarm of impatient solo masturbators all gathering for their fix of cheap taboo-busting pornography, Joseph avoided unnecessary eye contact. The seedy foyer was a hive of adulteration tonight and he felt an unexpected surge of energy waiting to pay for the entry ticket. Even standing in the thrall he felt a strong compulsion to touch himself. Another sign?
Huge posters, huge like the calling of the church bells to draw worshipers, boasted ‘A roller-coaster ride of supernatural, occult imagery and fetishistic kinks. Tonight’s satanic sex double-feature is exactly what it promises to be — a lewd and luscious presentation of horrific pornography unapologetically exploring the most salacious depths of your most instinctive desire for primal violence and sex.’ Another poster adjacent similarly announced ‘Seekers of the darkest inspiration and sweaty flesh, need to seek no further than these shockingly morbid movies of ritual magic, sacrifice, violence, mutilation, satanic possession, and necrophilia.’
“Sex Rituals of the Occult. Daughters of Satan.”
“Sorry?” asked Joseph caught in his own thoughts.
“The movies tonight Mister. Are you buying a ticket or what?” asked the impatient sales girl with her heavy Goth makeup.
She popped her chewing gum and tapped her fingers behind the glass-fronted counter.
“Er? Yes. Sure,” he blurted, passing her some scrunched-up notes (including a huge tip) in return for the grubby paper ticket stub.
“Thanks, Mister!” she perked up immediately, not believing her luck at seeing the unexpected wade of cash.
Once inside the darkened interior, it felt like a twilight world – there was something disgusting and base triggered by this transformation. Joseph could smell the stale spent semen in the place. The ambient sounds of low panting, groaning, and the constant slapping of wet flesh accompanied the wall-filling cinematic images of hairy cunts grinding against thrusting cocks and copious spurts of diaphanous semen.
Once again the prickly feeling reaffirmed that he had come to the right place, but this time it had spread down his spine into his perineum. His penis was rock hard and throbbed readily in his pants. It was as if he was being watched the entire time – he scanned the theater. With the flickering light of naked human flesh from the screen, he could see that the perverted voyeurs were evenly spaced out throughout the cinema seating, each leaving the other some kind of privacy despite the public lewdness of their obvious masturbation. Looking around for a place to sit, he noticed other patrons seemed to not care what he saw, even inviting Joseph’s stares as they sat, some completely naked, openly stroking themselves.
Joseph undressed completely; discarding his clothes and took a seat immediately behind two other naked strangers coupling in the darkness. The younger male’s head bobbed up and down in the lap of the older one whose head was thrown back in obvious enjoyment, as the boy openly fellated him. Joseph could feel the putrid fabric of the upholstery seethed with sexual sweat and bodily fluids against his naked skin – a thousand masturbators all-praying to the pornographic god with their eager genitals, smearing their ejaculate over the seating in homage. Joseph rubbed his cock as he watched the scene unfold before him on the silver screen – the intense close of an unwilling young alter boy being sodomized by a well-endowed male dressed as a cheesy horned demon.
“Let me do that for you,” said a sultry voice from the row behind.
A hand snaked across the back of the low seating and gripped Joseph’s cock – stroking it as he spoke.
“This is my favorite part … I nearly always cum when the boy is castrated on the altar by the demon priest.”
“Urrrrgggghhhh …” Joseph groaned unabated.
The expert hand brought him within a couple of strokes of blowing his heavy load. The cinematic screams, both orgasmic and torturous, accompanied the dull cracking of a sadistic whip of a leather-clad dominatrix; while a hairless pubescent girl drenched in urine, danced and masturbated to the ritual voodoo drumming affront effigies of phallic demons. The ensuing satanic orgy reached its climax as a long sacrificial blade flashed with the blood of an innocent.
“Drink his piss. Feast upon his shit. The black Baphomet one must rape him. And then you and your scrawny priest must offer his soul to me by cutting off his cock and balls!”
Joseph’s heart leaped into his throat as he bucked wildly against the firm hand that gripped the shaft of his throbbing cock. The pleasure reached a powerful and instantaneous spike, but instead of falling away as quickly as it has erupted, the sensations seemed to re-spike again, over and over, in rapid succession, orgasmic wave after orgasm wave – each time his pulsating cock squirted white-hot salty discharge across his chest and the lower part of his face.
Joseph felt transported backward in time, traveling past all of his awakenings, his sins played out in a reverse direction, parading his journey of descent into Gahanna, accelerating back until it reached the last time encountered his mentor, Father O’Brien. His words sounded slurred and slow, as being played back at half speed …
“You must ‘Hunt for the devil’ … Face the Adversary of your fears. For the Devil is the Father of lies. He is the maestro of sexual obsession and masturbation: of pornography and fornication, of prostitution and adultery, and homosexuality and sodomy. They are all his lies that blind you from the truth and lead you away from his golden pathway for his heavenly redemption.”
As fast as the replay had been, the reel reversed itself, forward again, recounting his sins of the soul and of the flesh in rapid succession; those pivotal moments; he saw the angry child, disobedient, insolent, wicked, and sexual; felt the shock of his first orgasm; his pre-teen fantasies of frotting penis to penis with his childhood playmates. There were flashes of a personal journal with words of worship to Lord of Darkness to summon sex demons; he could see the thinness of Benjamin’s puny boy limbs, the shadowy concavity of his backside; then the twisted face of his mentor as he mouthed the words “Hunt for the devil.” Awakening after awakening, he felt young Billy licking at the thick oozing droplets of pre-cum that emerged from his cock. A bucking couple of feminized boys fucked in the cubical as he watches and stroked himself.
He saw transgendered bodies dancing and fornicating. Billy licked his mother’s dripping cunt as she sang to her own wickedness “Incest is wrong”. There was an effigy in ebony-black of the Baphomet in all its glory with exposed breasts and upright phallus, inverted crosses, Sigil of Lucifer, black candles, an altar covered with the trappings of satanic worship surrounded by chanting worshipers …
“Oh, mighty Satan! Accept our offering of innocence.”
He tasted something acrid and salty in celebration of transgendered desire.
“The wine of the bladder … divine, blessed … in praise the Adversary.”
Glasses clinked and he exchanged evil grins with a lover separated by the years …
“… To the Devil …”
Ben’s cock urinated deep inside his filthy bowels, giving his a piss enema as they danced together in demonic revelry.
As the stabs of delight finally subsided, Joseph collapsed back into the seat, quivering uncontrollably, from head to toe from the sheer magnitude of it all. He lay still for what seemed ages, tasting the spicy spoils deposited upon his parched lips. This was surely a sign!
Joseph drew in a sharp gasping breath. The sweat poured down his naked back. He felt drunk on unbridled lust! A taste of what he could only express as demonic delight. Now he sat in the prickly heat of his wet afterglow, splattered in his own sticky jism. His mind reeled with new possibilities. He turned around to see who had pleasured him in such an intense way, but whoever it was had moved beyond his line of sight. He recalled the malicious words spoken by his demonic provocateur the moment before his mind-shattering orgasm …
“Drink his piss. Feast upon his shit. The black Baphomet one must rape him. And then you and your scrawny priest must offer his soul to me by cutting off his cock and balls!”
Could these be the nefarious words of his personal incubus? Or had it been the covenant of the Devil himself that had spoken to him? The sultry voice sounded so damn familiar. Those insistent and urgent words with such a forceful tone in the voice — reminded Joseph of his later mentor, Father O’Brien. But for the first time in a long time, there seemed to be something that made sense, maybe since the first of his strange awakenings in the chapel. Joseph felt affirmation in the pit of his guts – though his testicles ached from the power of his ejaculation, he felt a new and powerful urge stirring him, darkly and villainous.
Joseph felt a new energy ebb and flow through his veins. It was akin to mainlining heroin, it was shockingly transformational. With inner sight, he saw with a whole new clarity, the extraordinary journey that he had embarked upon, and like ships, safe in the harbor, but that was not his purpose … with his departure, he had left any remnants of safety behind. As all visible landmarks disappeared over the uncertain horizon, Joseph found himself happy to be at the mercy of the rise and fall of waves powered by incomprehensible forces that had brought him to this forbidden juncture.
The huge bonfire burned brightly among the skeletal old ruins by the lake. It was miles from anywhere. It was where Joseph had brought mission groups countless times before. It was a remote sanctuary that Saint Stephen’s had used for the re-education of wayward youth, to preach the gospel without the distractions of urban life.
It was just after midnight and billows of black smoke reached up to blank out the stars. Sparks from the pyre danced as they ascended and then descended again. The bright reddish glow lit up the depraved faces and naked bodies of Joseph’s new congregation as they danced around the black Baphomet.
He knew exactly what to say to motivate his special congregation – though strangers to each other they were all espoused to Joseph’s diabolic plan. He felt the hold he had over them all. He knew more about their darkest of needs, better than they knew about themselves. They all felt the black magick that seemed to draw them to him, like moths to the flame.
“How do you know all of this?” asked Benjamin.
“Because this is not my first time here,” answered Joseph.
“What do you mean?”
“This is not the first time we have had this conversation either.”
“But, we haven’t seen each other for ten years?”
“In your mind, it’s the first time. I know sounds incredulous, but we’ve had this same conversation countless times, over and over, in many forms. How do you think I knew how to find you? Where you would be at the exact moment I called you?”
“And these others?”
“And where does it lead?”
“Every time it’s different. That’s what is really interesting.”
“I don’t understand – but I guess understanding is not a prerequisite here. You have brought us together after all this time and that is all that matters. The others … they seem to be complete strangers to each other, but you know them all with such complete familiarity?”
“Like you. I know them intimately and all the dark hunger that they desire. Tonight, we will put ourselves in the hands of the Adversary … to do his bidding … to serve his purpose … and his rewards will unfold.”
“You talk with such certainty?”
Similarly to Benjamin, Joseph had talked to each of his chosen congregations – to excite their shadowy passions, alleviate their fears, assure them of their place, and inspire their dedication to the night’s ritual – to the devilish revelry to come.
If you have enjoyed this story or would like to offer praise to the author, who is always hungry for encouragement and affirmation, please email email@example.com