PETE’S MEAT 1 by Satan’s Fist

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.

Writer: Satan’s Fist

Subject: PETE’S MEAT 1

Link: LS666 Email / 10.04.2025

Story Codes: Dark Corruption, Satanism, Human sacrifice, incest, fisting, scat

Characters: The cast Bobby (13), Bobby’s parents Mary (31) & Robert (33), His Grandparents Rebecca (49) & Ivan (51), His sisters Sindy (14) & Beth (11). His Friend Pete (13), Petes parents Brian (33) & Wendy (35)

Pete’s Meat 1

As the dusty red sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the quiet semi-rural street, Bobby felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. He had been looking forward to this night for weeks, eagerly anticipating the video games, the sleepover food, and the unfiltered conversations that only came with a night at Pete’s house.

But now, with the sudden turn of events, Pete collapsing & having to be taken to hospital by his father, he found himself standing on his doorstep, the echo of his friend’s mother’s goodbye still lingering in the chilly evening air. The house before him was a silent sentinel, its windows reflecting the last whispers of daylight, and he knew that the night would not be what he had planned.

Bobby’s eyes widened as he recognized his grandparents’ car, sandwiched between a dozen unfamiliar vehicles that lined the gravel driveway down the side of the house, like a convoy of mysterious metal giants. The low hum of distant voices grew louder as he drew closer, and he realized with a jolt that the sound was not just conversation but rhythmic chanting.

It was an eerie symphony that seemed to resonate from the very core of his quiet house, setting his heart racing with curiosity and a hint of fear. Unseen from the front, the backyard had transformed into a hive of robed, shadowy figures dancing around a bonfire, the flickering glow of candles piercing the dusk as they danced and swayed in unison. The scene was surreal, a stark contrast to the tranquil nights Bobby was accustomed to.

Bobby’s breath caught in his throat as the chanting reached a crescendo, the air around him thick with anticipation. The drumming abruptly ceased, and the shadowy figures before him stilled. His eyes, adjusted to the flickering firelight, counted twenty-four robed individuals standing in a large circle around the bonfire. Their faces were obscured by hoods, but the tension in their postures spoke volumes.

His heart thumped against his chest as he clung to the rough bark of the tree, his mind racing to piece together the puzzle that unfolded before him. Were these his grandparents’ friends? Some sort of spiritual gathering? Or was this something darker, something he never could have imagined happening in his quiet, sleepy town?

He knew he had to find out, but the risk of discovery sent shivers down his spine. Slowly, the figures began to move again, taking their places in the circle. The silence was deafening, punctuated only by the crackling of the fire. Bobby’s curiosity won over his fear, and he cautiously took a step closer to the edge of the tree line, his eyes never leaving the mysterious assembly.

As Bobby’s grandfather Ivan stepped into the fiery spotlight, his heart skipped a beat. The man he had always known as a gentle soul with a penchant for gardening and storytelling now stood before him, his eyes blazing with an intensity that seemed almost otherworldly.

Ivan raised his arms to the heavens, his voice booming in a language that Bobby didn’t recognize—ancient, powerful, and filled with a dark resonance that seemed to shake the very ground beneath his feet. But amidst the unfamiliar incantation, one word rang clear and chillingly familiar — “Satan” — the name hung in the air like a curse, sending a shiver down Bobby’s spine and confirming the gravity of the situation.

The circle of robed figures around the bonfire mirrored Ivan’s actions, their hoods falling away to reveal not only Bobby’s family but also neighbors and townsfolk he had known all his life. The sight was both terrifying and surreal, a macabre twist on the quaint community he had always called home.

The chant grew louder, the flames higher, and the air grew thick with the scent of something ancient and forbidden. Bobby’s thoughts raced as he clutched the tree for support, his mind reeling from the revelation that his quiet, seemingly innocent world had a sinister underbelly that had been hidden in plain sight all along.

As Ivan’s incantation grew to a fever pitch, the tempo of the drumming resumed, pulsing through the night like the heartbeat of a malevolent beast. The robed figures now revealed as his own family and neighbors, obeyed the primal rhythm, shedding their cloaks to reveal their naked forms.

The sight of his mother, Mary, and his sisters Sindy and Beth, unclothed and participating in this heathen ritual was a dizzying revelation for Bobby. The warm glow of the bonfire danced across their bare flesh as they moved in a hypnotic, snake-like sway, their eyes glazed with a fervor that chilled Bobby to the bone.

The chanting grew more frenzied, each voice a discordant note in a symphony of worship for the dark deity they had invoked. Bobby watched, his grip tightening on the tree, as his grandparents, Rebecca and Ivan, led the naked congregation in a dance that seemed to defy the very fabric of reality. The flames grew higher, the air hot and suffocating, and the smell of burning herbs and something indescribable filled Bobby’s nostrils.

The scene was a tableau of depravity and blasphemy that seemed to have been plucked from the pages of a long-forgotten grimoire, and he felt an overwhelming urge to flee, to warn someone of the horror that unfolded in his very own backyard. Yet, he remained rooted to the spot, unable to tear his eyes away from the terrifying spectacle that had swallowed his world whole.

The drums slowed to a rhythmic throb, and Bobby’s parents, Robert and Mary, broke away from the frenzied dance. They knelt before Ivan, their expressions a blend of awe and terror. The chanting grew softer, the words of the incantation now a whispered promise to the dark entity they had invoked.

Bobby watched, his heart hammering against his ribcage, as his mother’s eyes searched the tree line, finding his trembling form hidden in the shadows. The momentary connection sent a jolt of electricity through him, a silent plea for understanding that he could not comprehend. The air grew colder, the energy in the circle palpable, as Ivan raised a dagger high above his head, the gleaming steel a stark contrast against the fiery sky.

The circle of naked bodies tightened, each participant’s gaze transfixed on the blade that promised a night of unspeakable transformation. Bobby’s world narrowed to the pulse of the drums and the fiery dance of the shadows, his thoughts a tumultuous whirlwind of disbelief and horror. His family’s secret, once a whispered curiosity, now stood starkly revealed before him, a nightmare made flesh in the sacred space of their own home.

As the chanting began anew, The drums’ solemn throb filled the air as Bobby’s parents, Mary and Robert, knelt before the commanding figure of Ivan, their expressions a disturbing mix of reverence and anticipation. Ivan’s eyes, ablaze with an unsettling power, swept over the congregation, and his deep voice resonated with an authority that seemed to suck the very breath from Bobby’s lungs.

“Is the offering prepared?” he intoned, the words sending a shiver down the spine of every robed participant.

With a nod from his mother and father, Sindy, her eyes alight with a feverish excitement that was utterly alien to Bobby, stepped forward. Her slender hand was firm as she guided the trembling form of his little sister, Beth, whose innocent visage was starkly framed by the white gown that clung to her like a second skin.

With a dramatic flourish, Sindy slipped the gown off Beth’s shoulders, revealing the naked, trembling form of the eleven-year-old girl. The coven’s gaze fell upon her, a collective hunger that made Bobby’s stomach churn and his heartache.

He watched in horror as his sisters were drawn into the circle of firelight, their bodies glowing with the fiery embers’ kiss, the stark reality of what was about to occur hitting him with the force of a sledgehammer, yet something else stirred inside him, in his loins. The chant grew deeper, the air colder, and the flames of the bonfire seemed to stretch out towards the heavens, as if eager to consume the purity that was about to be offered to their dark deity.

Bobby knew he had to act, had to save Beth from whatever fate his twisted family had in store for her. He took a shaky step forward, his hand reaching out into the night, desperation and fear giving him the strength to break his paralysis. But as he did, a hand clamped down on his shoulder, and a voice whispered harshly in his ear.

“You’re not ready to face this, Bobby. Not yet.”

It was Pete, his friend, his eyes no longer glazed over, but clear and filled with urgency. The sight of Pete, here and unharmed, was a jolting revelation, and Bobby’s confusion grew as he was yanked back into the shadows of the trees.

“We have to stop this,” Bobby hissed through gritted teeth, his mind racing to understand the betrayal before him.

But Pete’s grip was firm, and his eyes held a knowledge that spoke of a truth far more complex than the nightmare unfolding in the clearing.

“Trust me,” he said, his voice a steely promise in the dark.

And with that, Pete melted away, leaving Bobby with no choice but to watch, his heart racing, as the terrible rite continued before his eyes.

With a sense of dread weighing him down like an iron cloak, Bobby remained in his hiding spot, his eyes glued to the terrifying scene unfolding before him. His mother, grandmother, and Sindy gracefully guided the trembling Beth to the center of the fiery circle, laying her gently onto the makeshift altar.

The flames cast a hellish glow upon her young, naked body, making her look like a sacrificial lamb offered to the merciless gods of an ancient civilization. His father, Robert, approached Ivan with a disturbing eagerness, his eyes wide and hungry.

“Bless me, Father,” he murmured, parting his lips.

Without hesitation, Ivan lowered his own body over his son-in-law’s face, releasing a stream of golden fluid into Robert’s open mouth. The chanting grew louder, the flames higher, and Bobby felt a part of him die as he witnessed the unspeakable blasphemy. His mind screamed for him to intervene, to save his sister from this nightmare, but his body remained paralyzed, held in check by a fear that seemed to have roots in the very marrow of his bones.

As the coven’s voices grew to a fever pitch, Robert’s throat convulsed as he swallowed every last drop of Ivan’s vile offering, his eyes never leaving his daughter’s terrified gaze. The sight was too much for Bobby to bear, his stomach lurching as his mind grappled with the depravity of the scene.

Meanwhile, the three women, his mother, grandmother, and sister, circled the altar, each one picking up a vial of thick, dark oil. With a synchronized motion, they unstoppered the vials and began to coat their hands, the oil glinting in the firelight like a twisted promise of what was to come.

The chanting grew louder, the rhythm more insistent, as they approached the trembling form of little Beth. They began to rub the foul substance all over her body, their touches lingering and deliberate, their intent unmistakable as they worked the oil into her small, tight openings.

The girl’s cries grew muffled as her mother, grandmother, and sister took turns to pleasure her with their mouths, their actions a blasphemous parody of love and care. Bobby’s horror grew with each second, his mind screaming at him to do something, anything, to stop this perverse ritual. Yet, he remained frozen, a silent spectator to the darkest chapter of his family’s secrets.

As the cacophony of chanting reached a crescendo, Bobby’s mind was a tornado of emotions. The sight of his mother, grandmother, and sisters desecrating the innocence of his beloved Beth was almost too much to bear. Yet, as the ritual continued, an unexpected warmth grew within him, his body responding in a way that was as confusing as it was repulsive.

He felt a strange mix of arousal and revulsion, his young mind struggling to reconcile the two. His eyes remained locked on the scene, watching as the women’s hands roamed over Beth’s trembling body, their actions both terrifying and mesmerizing. The chanting grew wilder, the flames of the bonfire reaching up to the heavens as if to grasp the very essence of the darkness they summoned. And then, it was his mother’s turn. She lowered her head to the altar.

The sight of his mother’s tongue touching his sister’s most intimate places, With a sense of horror and a burgeoning fascination that made his stomach churn, Bobby watched as his father, Robert, eagerly took Ivan’s engorged member into his mouth, his eyes never leaving his daughter’s. The sight of his father’s submissive act sent a jolt of disbelief through Bobby’s body, but it was the transformation of Ivan that truly shocked him. The man’s features grew more intense, his body swelling with power as he fed his dark energy to Robert, whose eyes rolled back in a mix of pleasure and terror.

Meanwhile, his grandmother Rebecca and sister Sindy approached the altar, their nakedness seemingly forgotten amidst the frenzy. They took one of Beth’s tiny hands each, guiding them to their own slick, open vaginas. Bobby’s mind reeled as he saw his sister’s trembling fingers sinking into the flesh of the woman who had raised him, her innocence forever marred by this twisted act of worship.

The cacophony grew louder, the flames of the bonfire reaching higher into the night sky, as the ritual’s depravity deepened. The air grew thick with the scent of sex and fear, and Bobby could feel the very fabric of his reality stretching to breaking point, threatening to shatter beneath the weight of his family’s dark secret.

As the ritual climaxed, Bobby felt an inexplicable pull towards the flaming spectacle, his body betraying the horror that raged in his heart. He watched in a trance-like state as Ivan’s body contorted, his eyes flashing crimson in the firelight, the dark power he had invoked seemingly consuming him from within.

The cries of his mother and sisters grew louder, their moans of pleasure intermingling with the frenetic chanting that filled the night. The air grew colder, the flames of the bonfire leaping and twisting into the sky as if in a dance of their own, casting grotesque shadows upon the writhing bodies of the coven.

As the dark ceremony reached its apex, the coven’s frenzy grew wilder. Bobby’s eyes widened in horror and fascination as his neighbors and relatives descended upon each other in a chaotic maelstrom of debauchery. The sight of his family members engaging in acts of depravity that transcended his wildest nightmares filled him with a sickening cocktail of fear and arousal.

His mother and grandmother were lost in the throes of ecstasy, their hands buried deep within each other’s bowels as they writhed on the damp earth. His sisters, Sindy and Beth, had become indistinguishable from the adults, their young bodies contorted in ways that seemed impossible, their faces twisted in expressions of pain and pleasure that defied understanding.

The air grew thick with the scent of excrement and sweat as the coven indulged in their most primal urges, their collective energy feeding the dark force that loomed over them. Bobby felt the warmth of his hand in his pants, his cock stiffening as he watched the carnage unfold. He knew it was wrong, that he should be repulsed, but the taboo allure of the scene was too powerful to resist.

As he began to stroke himself, his mind reeled with the weight of the secrets he had uncovered, and the realization that he might not be able to unsee this night of horrors. The chanting grew to a feverish pitch, the flames of the bonfire reaching ever higher, as the cacophony of moans and grunts grew into a crescendo of profane worship that echoed through the night. The world he knew was gone, and in its place was a twisted tableau of perversion and blasphemy that seemed to stretch on forever, a living testament to the dark heart that now beat within the very core of his flesh and blood.

The night grew colder, yet Bobby could feel the heat of his arousal burning through his clothing as he continued to watch, his hand moving rhythmically in his pants. His grandfather, Ivan, took his place between the trembling legs of his little sister, Beth. His mother, Mary, eagerly bent to swallow Ivan’s thick cock, Meanwhile, his father, Robert, positioned himself behind Ivan, spreading the elder man’s asscheeks wide. Ivan’s eyes rolled back in his head as he pushed himself into his son-in-law’s waiting mouth, his body convulsing with the force of his release.

The foul stench of shit filled the air as Ivan’s bowels emptied into Robert’s willing throat, the sight of which only served to fuel Bobby’s conflicted arousal. On the makeshift altar, the frenzy of fisting grew more intense. Beth’s arm was buried to the elbow in their grandmother Rebecca’s gaping maw, her hand coated in the woman’s innermost filth.

Beth’s other tiny hand was buried in her mother’s cunt, her fist pumping in and out in a macabre imitation of the love Bobby had once known. The flames of the bonfire danced higher, casting grotesque shadows upon the writhing mass of bodies, the flickering light playing across the stretched and contorted faces of his family members as they reveled in the dark rites.

The chanting grew louder, the air more electric, and Bobby knew that he could not escape this night without being forever changed by the depravity he had witnessed. The line between love and horror had been blurred, and as he reached the peak of his secret indulgence, he realized with sickening clarity that he was now irrevocably part of this twisted tapestry of sin and worship.

The frenetic pace of the ritual slowed, the cries of pleasure and pain subsiding into a collective panting that hung in the air like the acrid scent of spent candle wax and sex. The coven, sated and exhausted, took their places in the circle once more, their bodies glistening with sweat and the dark oil. In the center of the bonfire’s fiery embrace, little Beth lay sprawled on the makeshift altar, her innocence a shattered memory.

The semi-circle of her immediate family closed in around her, their expressions a mix of pride, lust, and something that Bobby couldn’t quite place — perhaps a twisted form of love that had been warped by the dark power they served. Ivan, now fully transformed into the embodiment of their blasphemous deity, towered over her, his erect member pointing to the heavens like an unholy beacon.

The air grew still, the anticipation thick as Bobby watched, his hand still in his pants, his own arousal a betrayal that burned him with a guilt he couldn’t fully comprehend. The chanting began again, a low murmur that grew into a crescendo of anticipation, and the flames of the bonfire licked the night sky, eager to bear witness to the final act of the twisted rite.

As the chanting reached a feverish crescendo, Bobby’s eyes widened in disbelief as Pete and his parents, all naked and unashamed, emerged from the shadows to stand alongside Ivan. The sight of his friend’s family joining this perverse congregation was a twist he never could have foreseen.

Pete’s eyes met his, a wicked grin spreading across his face, and Bobby felt a cold knot tighten in his stomach. Ivan’s gaze fell upon Pete, and with a deep, resonant voice that seemed to echo through the very fabric of the night.

“Are you ready to join the dark lord in his glory?” He intoned.

Pete’s grin widened, and he nodded eagerly, his eyes alight with a fervor that matched the fiery embers that danced in the bonfire’s heart. Bobby’s mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle of his friend’s involvement, the reality of the world he had known shattering into a million jagged pieces. The chant grew louder, the air colder, and the flames higher, as Ivan turned his attention back to the trembling form of Bobby’s sister, the final piece in this obscene tapestry of power and perversion.

As Bobby’s father, Robert, took his place with three other robed men, they lifted Pete’s naked body into the air, holding him face down above the altar where his sister lay. The sight of his friend, now a willing participant in this heinous ceremony, filled Bobby with a new level of horror.

His mind screamed for it to stop, but his body remained frozen, a silent witness to the unfolding depravity. Pete’s eyes met Bobby’s briefly, the excitement in them a stark contrast to the fear that gripped Bobby’s soul. His father, Brian, reached out to Pete with a hand that trembled with anticipation, guiding his cock into the boy’s mouth.

Meanwhile, Pete’s mother, Wendy, with a fervor that mirrored the other women’s, licked and sucked at her son’s anus before plunging her hand into the tight, untouched depths of his body. The ritual’s crescendo grew more intense as Pete’s moans of pleasure mingled with the cacophony of chanting and the crackling of the bonfire.

Bobby felt a cold sweat break out on his brow as the realization dawned upon him that his entire world had been a lie, that the people he had loved and trusted had been harboring a darkness so profound that it had claimed the very core of their existence. The line between sanity and madness grew ever thinner as he watched, unable to tear his eyes away from the grotesque spectacle that unfolded before him.

The chant grew louder, the air thick with the scent of sulfur and lust, as Ivan positioned himself over the trembling form of Bobby’s sister, her small, violated body a stark contrast to the towering, monstrous figure he had become. With a final, triumphant shout, Ivan plunged his engorged cock into the depths of Pete’s stretched anus, the boy’s screams piercing the night air like a banshee’s wail.

The flames of the bonfire leapt higher as if in ecstasy, as the dark energy of the ritual coalesced around them. Bobby’s mother, her eyes gleaming with a feral hunger, reached up to guide Pete’s member into her mouth, her hand still coated with the foul residue of the night’s debauchery.

The coven’s moans grew into a symphony of depravity as the young boy was claimed by the dark power, his innocence sacrificed to the insatiable hunger of the demonic presence that now reigned supreme over the once-peaceful backyard. Bobby felt his orgasm approaching, his hand a blur in his pants, the horror of the scene before him only fueling the fire of his perverse arousal.

As Ivan reached his climax, The scene before Bobby grew even more macabre as Ivan, his grandfather, reached down with a hand that seemed to tremble with dark power. From within the folds of his robe, he produced a dagger, its blade glinting with an unearthly light. With a savage grin, Ivan plunged the weapon into Pete’s asshole, eliciting a scream from the boy that was abruptly cut short as the dagger sank deep within him, tearing through flesh and viscera.

The coven’s chanting grew frenzied as Pete’s lifeblood spurted forth, painting Beth’s naked body in a gruesome tableau of crimson. The horror was almost too much to bear, yet Bobby could not look away. Pete’s mother, Wendy, with a feral snarl that seemed to come from the very depths of hell, leaned over her son’s mutilated body.

With a swift, savage bite, she tore his cock and balls from him, the act of maternal cannibalism so obscene it seemed to warp the very fabric of reality. Her eyes, wild with bloodlust, met Bobby’s over the edge of the tree line, and she held the grisly prize aloft before her. The sight was a blasphemy that would be forever etched into his mind.

Then, in a display of unspeakable perversion, Wendy shared her son’s flesh with Bobby’s mother, Mary, their mouths meeting in a kiss that was both tender and horrifying. The two women devoured the bloody mess, their eyes never leaving Bobby’s, as if daring him to judge them. The warmth of his climax washed over him, mingling with the coldness that had taken root in his soul. He knew then that his life would never be the same, that he was irrevocably bound to this night of horrors.

With a sickening thud, Pete’s lifeless body was lowered onto Beth, the crimson gore from his mutilated groin smearing over her trembling form. Her eyes, glazed with a mix of fear and an unholy longing, found Bobby’s in the shadows. For a moment, the connection between them seemed to transcend the horror, a silent plea for salvation in a world gone mad.

But then, the possession took hold of her fully, and with a hunger that seemed to defy her tender age, she pressed her mouth to Pete’s cold, lifeless lips, kissing him with a passion that was at once terrifying and obscene. Bobby’s grandfather, Ivan, now fully consumed by the dark force, bent over the corpse, his hands moving with a precise, almost surgical skill as he sawed through the flesh and bone of Pete’s arms and legs.

The cries of the coven grew louder, a symphony of perversion that seemed to resonate with the very earth beneath their feet. The severed limbs were passed around the circle, each participant eager to claim their part of the grisly offering.

Bobby watched in a daze as his and Pete’s mothers, grandmother, and sister took turns impaling themselves on the stumps of Pete’s arms and legs, their eyes never leaving Bobby’s, as if daring him to join in their unspeakable worship. The sight of his family members fucking themselves with the lifeless remains of his friend was a vision that would haunt him for eternity, a twisted testament to the depths of depravity they had descended to.

As the final notes of the chant dissipated into the chilly night air, Bobby’s mind reeled with the horrors he had just witnessed. His body trembled, not only from the cold but from the visceral terror that gripped him as he stared at the carnage before him. The coven, still lost in the throes of their perverted ecstasy, paid no heed to the silent, trembling boy at the edge of the clearing.

His sisters, mother, and grandmother, their faces and bodies smeared with blood and filth, continued to writhe on the makeshift altar, each taking turns to claim Pete’s lifeless limbs in a grotesque display of communion with the dark force they had summoned. The flames of the bonfire cast a hellish glow upon their naked forms, turning their skin to a ghastly palette of red and black.

Bobby knew he could not stay there any longer, lest he lose himself to the madness that had claimed his family. With a silent vow to never speak of this night, to never let the darkness touch his soul, he turned and fled into the inky embrace of the surrounding woods, leaving behind the shattered remnants of his innocence and the unthinkable truth of his family’s secret.

The thunder of his heartbeat and the rustle of leaves underfoot were his only companions as he ran, the echoes of the coven’s chanting fading into the distance like the last vestiges of a nightmare that had become all too real.

THE END OF CHAPTER ONE