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 4
Link: LS666 Email / 10.04.2025
Story Codes: Orgy, Satanism, Snuff
Characters: Bobby (13), Pete (13), Sindy & Beth (11), Ivan – Bobby’s Grandfather (58), Mary – Bobby’s Mother (32), Wendy – Pete’s Mother (33), Robert – Bobby’s Father (35), Rebecca – Bobby’s Grandmother (55), John – Pete’s Father (39)
Synopsis: Pete’s Re-birthday has arrived & it’s gonna be one hell of a party.
Pete’s Meat 4
The air in the basement satanic temple grew thick with anticipation as the flickering candles cast eerie shadows across the walls adorned with ancient symbols. Wendy’s pained moans resonated through the chamber, each one a testament to the monumental event about to unfold.
The family members, Mary with a trembling hand holding a sacred tome open to the page marked with a crimson thumb, Robert standing by her side, his eyes fixed on the makeshift birthing altar, and Ivan, Bobby and Sindy huddled together in a corner, whispered incantations that had been passed down through generations.
The three siblings shared a mix of excitement and fear, their young minds struggling to grasp the significance of Pete’s rebirth. Sindy, the eldest, squeezed Bobby’s hand, offering silent support, while Beth clung tightly to their grandfather’s leg, her eyes wide with wonder.
The room was a whirlwind of preparation and tension, with John, Pete’s father, pacing nervously outside the sacred space, awaiting the return of his son. As the chanting grew louder and the candles burned lower, the moment was upon them. The time had come for Pete to reenter the mortal realm, forever changing the course of their lives.
Ivan, with a gentle but firm voice, began to explain the ancient rite of rebirth that they were about to perform.
“The ceremony we are about to undertake is sacred,” he told the room, his eyes meeting each family member’s in turn, “Wendy’s body is the vessel for Pete’s return, but our collective love and energy will be what truly brings him back to us.”
Bobby and Sindy nodded solemnly, their grip on each other’s hand tightening as Ivan spoke.
“When the time is right, you will all feel a surge of power. It is then that you must share the act of birthing yourselves, to share in Wendy’s pain and channel the energy needed for the rebirth.”
Wendy’s moans grew more rhythmic, her hand moving with increasing urgency between her legs. The room grew quiet, all eyes on her, as she sought relief from her discomfort through her own ritualistic act. The tension was palpable as the siblings and their mother prepared to follow Ivan’s instructions, each one aware that their participation in this bizarre and mystical event would bind them to Pete in ways they could not begin to comprehend.
As Wendy’s contractions grew closer, her breathing turned ragged and her movements more urgent. The air in the basement grew colder, charged with the supernatural energy of the impending rebirth. Sensing the gravity of the moment, Beth, though young, stepped forward with surprising maturity.
She placed her small hands on her aunt’s distended belly and began to mimic the motions she’d seen in the childbirth videos they had studied together. Bobby and Sindy watched in amazement as their little sister’s hands pushed and pulled with surprising strength, helping to stretch the skin and muscles around the growing pressure.
The siblings felt their hearts swell with pride and love for their brave aunt, who bore the burden of this ancient rite with a determination that seemed almost superhuman. The anticipation grew to a crescendo as Mary, her voice quaking but her eyes alight with the power of the ceremony.
“Now! It is time for us to become one with Pete’s rebirth!”
The room resonated with their collective chant, a harmony of voices that grew stronger with each contraction, as they prepared to absorb the new life that was about to be born into their very beings. The bond between them grew taut like a bowstring ready to release an arrow, as the moment of Pete’s rebirth approached with unstoppable force.
With the room now a tableau of devoted participants, Ivan guided Bobby and Sindy to their places in the circle. They lay down, heads touching the toes of their mother and father respectively, creating a human chain that encircled the birthing altar.
The siblings could feel the warmth of their parent’s bodies and the comfort of their mother’s hand resting gently on their heads, grounding them in the reality of the moment. As they all synchronized their breaths with Wendy’s contractions, the room took on a sacred aura, the candles casting a soft, pulsating glow that grew brighter with each intake of breath.
The incantations grew louder, the air charged with an electrifying current that seemed to crackle with the promise of new life. John, his face etched with a mix of hope and dread, took his place opposite Mary, his hand reaching out to cover hers on the tome. The ancient text’s pages fluttered with the intensity of their combined energy, and the symbols etched upon the walls began to glow with a faint, otherworldly light. The circle was complete, and the stage was set for Pete’s rebirth to unfold.
With the final instructions in place, the family members braced themselves for the ultimate act of unity. One by one, they reached between the legs of the participant in front of them, their hands slipping into the warm, wet embraces of their relatives. Bobby, his heart racing, felt the softness of his sister’s sex, while Sindy’s trembling hand found its way into their mother’s tightened anus.
The unorthodox and intimate act was performed with a shared purpose, the lubrication of blood, shit, and cum a testament to the purity and power of their ritual. The chain grew stronger, each hand pushing deeper into the other, creating a human conduit for Pete’s spirit to flow through.
The room was alive with the sounds of wet, slapping skin and muffled grunts of effort and pain, the scent of their shared essence mixing with the thick incense that filled the air. Their collective energy grew to a fever pitch, each participant fully absorbed in the primal rhythm of the birthing ceremony. The siblings could feel their bodies responding, their own juvenile arousal a confusing yet undeniable part of the mystical process.
Ivan, the family’s spiritual guide, took a deep, steadying breath and inserted his second hand into Robert’s anus, his grip firm and unyielding. Robert, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration, mirrored Ivan’s movements, reaching deeper into John’s body. John, his face a mask of determination, did the same to Bobby, who in turn, pushed his second hand into Sindy’s stretched sex, his knuckles white with the effort.
, her own breath hitching, managed to insert her second hand into her mother’s snug channel, feeling the muscles contract around her. Mary, her own hand buried in Ivan, completed the circuit, her free hand reaching back to join her children’s in the intimate embrace of their father’s body.
The fisting circle was now a tapestry of intertwined limbs, each person connected to the next in a way that was both profoundly disturbing and oddly beautiful. The air grew colder still, and the candle flames danced higher, casting a frenetic light across their contorted faces. Their movements grew more erratic, each hand pushing and pulling in a frenzied dance that matched the rhythm of Wendy’s contractions.
The incantations grew louder, their voices rising in a crescendo of power as the moment of rebirth drew near. The siblings, though young, were swept up in the tide of the ritual, their own bodies responding in ways that both thrilled and terrified them. The room vibrated with the intensity of their union, the very walls seeming to pulse with the anticipation of Pete’s return.
The air grew colder still as Wendy’s scream pierced the basement, echoing off the stone walls and sending a shiver down each spine.
“It’s coming!” Beth’s high-pitched voice shrilled over the chanting.
Ivan, with a swift, practiced motion, withdrew from the fisting circle, his hands slick with the fluids of his son. The siblings, eyes wide with a mix of horror and fascination, watched as their mother seamlessly filled the gap, her hands plunging deep into Robert’s bowels, maintaining the unholy union of flesh.
The room’s focus shifted to the birthing altar, where Wendy’s body was now a battleground for the forces of life and death. Her legs spread wide, Ivan bent over, aligning his anus with the crowning head of the baby. His asshole quivered with anticipation as he felt the unmistakable warmth and wetness of her cunt.
With a guttural grunt, he began to push back, the tightness of his hole stretching to accommodate the impending birth. Meanwhile, Beth, her face a picture of innocence and determination, reached between her aunt’s legs to assist, her small fingers stretching Ivan’s sphincter even further, making way for the new life to pass through.
The room grew silent, save for the wet, squelching sounds of Ivan’s anus opening and the guttural groans of Wendy as she pushed with all her might. The siblings and their mother, their faces a mix of awe and revulsion, watched as the baby’s head emerged from Wendy’s vagina, only to be swallowed by Ivan’s eagerly awaiting rectum. The ancient rite had reached its climax, and Pete’s rebirth was imminent.
With a grimace of exertion and a deep sense of purpose, Ivan moved to take Wendy’s place on the birthing altar. His own anus, lubricated and stretched by the preparatory rituals, was now ready to serve as the conduit for Pete’s rebirth.
Wendy, though exhausted, managed to stumble over to replace John, her own hands now reaching for her nephew’s body, while robert inserts both his fists into her anus to continue the fisting chain. Her touch was gentle but firm, her movements precise and determined as she inserted her hand into his anus, taking over from where her daughter had been moments before.
The siblings watched in stunned silence as their grandfather’s body tensed with the effort of accepting the baby’s head into his bowels. Sensing the final stages of the birth, Beth stepped up, her childlike innocence belying the surprising knowledge she had gained from her studies of the ancient rites.
She reached out with her tiny hand, coated in the slick mix of blood and fluids, and pressed it against Ivan’s distended anus. Her touch was surprisingly firm as she applied pressure, helping to guide the baby into John’s waiting cavity.
The room was a tableau of intertwined limbs and contorted faces, each person playing their part in the macabre dance of rebirth. The air grew colder, the candles flickering wildly, and the symbols on the walls pulsed with a sinister energy. The anticipation was unbearable as the baby’s shoulders emerged from Ivan’s stretched opening, the head of Pete’s reborn form now poised to enter John’s distended arsehole.
With a final, earth-shaking groan from Ivan, the head of the reborn Pete slid into John’s gaping anus, eliciting a collective gasp from the room. The siblings and their mother watched, their eyes wide with shock and fascination, as the impossible act unfolded before them. The baby’s body, covered in a slick sheen of blood and mucus, moved in a serpentine motion through the fisting chain, each hand guiding it with a mix of reverence and horror.
The energy in the room reached a crescendo, the very air crackling with power as the infant’s form passed from one relative to the next, each participant feeling a strange mix of pain and ecstasy as they shared in the birth. The incantations grew louder, the symbols on the walls pulsing in time with their chanting.
And then, with a final push from Wendy, the baby’s body was fully consumed by Ivan’s stretched anus, disappearing into the depths of John’s bowels. The room fell silent, the only sound the ragged breathing of the exhausted participants. For a moment, it seemed as if the very fabric of reality had been torn apart and rewoven anew. Then, from within John’s stomach, a soft cry filled the air.
As the room echoed with the baby’s cry, John, his face a contortion of determination and agony, stepped onto the birthing altar, his own anus now the gateway for Pete’s rebirth. Ivan, with a knowing nod to his grandson, took Bobby’s place in the fisting chain, his gnarled hands reaching for Sindy’s waiting ass, maintaining the unbroken circuit of familial union.
Bobby, trembling with a mix of excitement and fear, lay down on the cold stone, his gaze locked onto his father’s. The siblings watched in silent awe as the fisting chain reconfigured around the new centerpiece, Beth’s hand now buried deep in John’s anus, guiding Pete’s body into his son’s willing cavity. The incantations grew more fervent, the air thick with the stench of blood and shit as the baby continued its serpentine journey through the twisted maze of human flesh.
The pressure built in Bobby’s stomach, his body bracing for the unspeakable act that was about to take place. He felt the warm, wet tip of Pete’s head press against his own anus, and with a gasp, he opened himself up to the inevitable. The siblings held each other tightly, their own bodies responding in ways that were both terrifying and exhilarating, as they shared in the profound and depraved act of welcoming their reborn brother into the world through the most unnatural of births.
John, now fully entranced by the ritual, took Ivan’s place on the birthing altar, his anus gaping wide and ready to complete the unholy cycle. Ivan, his face a mask of solemn pride, took Bobby’s position in the fisting chain, his lubricated hands eager to claim his granddaughter’s tight hole. Bobby, feeling a strange mix of fear and excitement, lay still, his eyes locked onto his uncle’s as he braced for the ultimate act of familial unity.
The chanting grew more intense, the room vibrating with dark energy. With a gentle nudge from his sister’s hand, Bobby felt the warm, slick head of the baby press against his anus. The pressure grew, and with a gasp, he relaxed his muscles, allowing Pete’s reborn form to slip inside him.
The family watched, their own bodies responding in ways they could not fully understand, as their mother and aunt maintained the fisting chain, ensuring the baby’s passage remained unobstructed. The baby’s cry grew stronger with each inch that entered Bobby’s tight cavity, a symphony of pain and power that filled the chamber. The ancient symbols on the walls pulsed in time with their hearts, the candlelight casting an eerie, crimson glow across their entwined limbs.
As the final part of Pete’s body disappeared into Bobby’s ass, the family felt a surge of unearthly power, With the air thick with the scent of sweat and blood, Bobby took John’s place on the birthing altar, his small frame trembling with the weight of the ceremony. John, his eyes glazed over with a mix of pain and ecstasy, stumbled over to replace Sindy in the fisting chain.
His hands, now coated in a gruesome mixture of bodily fluids, reached for his sister’s welcoming anus, eager to maintain the unbroken lineage of the ritual. Ivan, his face contorted with a mix of pleasure and determination, grabbed John’s thighs and pulled him backward with surprising strength, forcing his head into the gaping hole between his son’s legs. The sight of their grandfather’s head disappearing into this son’s anus raised the tempo of the fisting circle to new heights.
John, now fully entranced by the dark power of the ceremony, took a deep, shuddering breath and double-fisted his sister, Mary, his eyes never leaving hers as he pushed into her with a fervor fueled by the supernatural energy in the room. As Ivan’s head disappeared into John’s anus, a guttural groan escaped John’s lips, and with a spasm of pleasure that seemed to resonate through the entire circle, he climaxed, Beth quickly crawling on the floor to lick up the warm seed.
The moment was both disturbing and transcendent, a testament to the unbreakable bond they shared as they brought Pete back to life. Meanwhile, Sindy, her own arousal a confusing mix of terror and excitement, stepped up to the altar, her anus quivering in anticipation of receiving her reborn cousin.
Bobby, his eyes watering with the effort of containing the new life within him, watched as Sindy positioned herself to complete the final phase of the ritual. As their little sister’s hand guided Pete’s head into her Sindy’s anus, Sindy gritted her teeth and pushed out, feeling the warm, pulsing mass of her cousin’s body enter her. The fisting chain grew taut again, each hand moving in a synchronized dance of rebirth. The relatives felt an indescribable connection as they shared the burden of bringing Pete into the world in this most unorthodox manner.
The room was alive with the sounds of wet flesh and desperate breathing, the air thick with the scent of blood, shit and semen. The ancient symbols on the walls throbbed with a new intensity, the candles casting a hellish glow across their sweat-slicked bodies. And as Sindy’s anus swallowed the last of Pete’s reborn form, she too felt the strange, overwhelming pleasure that came with being filled by both her cousin. The incantations grew to a fever pitch, the very air crackling with power.
Sindy lay back on the cold stone altar, her legs splayed open and trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. Bobby, his own body still pulsing with the aftershocks of the unholy union, took his mother’s place in the fisting chain, his hand now buried deep in his father’s anus. The siblings watched as their mother, her face a picture of determination, approached the altar, her own hand slick with the remnants of the ritual’s fluids.
She positioned herself behind her daughter, her eyes never leaving Bobby’s. The room was a maelstrom of emotions and sensations, the very air charged with a dark, pulsating energy that seemed to feed off their shared experience. As the siblings felt the final stretch of Pete’s body leave Bobby’s cavity, it was as if their very souls were being rewoven together in a tapestry of unspeakable love and loyalty.
With a gasp, Sindy felt the pressure of the new life at her own anus, and with a final push, Pete’s head emerged into the foul embrace of their mother’s bowels. The incantations grew more fervent, the candle flames dancing wildly as if in a frenzied celebration of the rebirth. The siblings held their breath as Mary’s face contorted in a silent scream, her body accepting the unthinkable, her eyes never leaving her son’s as he completed the final act of the ancient rite. The room was a tableau of depravity and unity, a testament to the depths of love and the lengths they would go to ensure the survival of their family’s legacy.
Mary, the final conduit for Pete’s rebirth, remained on the altar, her legs spread wide and quivering with the weight of the sacred task. The fisting chain slowly unraveled, each participant withdrawing their hands from their sibling’s and parent’s orifices with a mix of relief and reverence.
They took their places around the circle, panting and spent, their eyes never leaving the pulsing symbol at the center of the room. Ivan, his eyes ablaze with otherworldly power, stepped forward between Mary’s legs, the slickness of his own body a testament to the depraved act they had all just performed.
His hands, still coated in the grisly mixture of bodily fluids, reached down to grasp her ankles, pulling them together with a firmness that spoke of his unwavering belief in the ceremony. He began to chant in a language that predated human understanding, the incantation resonating through the chamber and causing the very walls to tremble.
The air grew colder, and the candles flickered erratically as if in time with the beating of an unseen heart. The siblings watched, their own arousal a confusing tangle of emotions, as their grandfather’s grip tightened, his body a living bridge between the mortal and the divine. The moment stretched on, taut with anticipation, as they waited for the final phase of Pete’s rebirth to unfold.
Ivan, his voice resonating with the power of the ancient incantation, stood firmly between Mary’s quivering legs. His grip tightened around her ankles, drawing them closer together as he bound her with a thick, black rope that seemed to be alive with malevolent energy. The room grew colder, the candlelight flickering in a wild, erratic pattern that cast grotesque shadows across the walls.
Bobby and Sindy, their bodies still reeling from their own participation in the ritual, could feel the dark power swirling around them, a palpable force that seemed to thicken the very air. They watched in a mix of horror and fascination as their grandfather’s actions signaled the most climactic part of the rebirth ceremony.
The incantation grew louder, each word a declaration of their unwavering commitment to Pete’s return. The rope grew taut around Mary’s legs, cutting off any escape for the reborn child. Her stomach bulged obscenely, the pressure from within building to an unbearable crescendo. The siblings knew that the baby would now have to claw its way out of their mother’s belly.
The siblings held their breaths as the air grew colder and the ancient incantation reached a crescendo. Bobby’s eyes were glued to the pulsing bulge in Mary’s abdomen, his heart racing with a mix of fear and excitement. The ropes around her legs grew tauter, the candles’ shadows dancing madly on the walls, and the room itself seemed to shiver with anticipation.
Suddenly, the bulge grew more pronounced, a clear outline of a head forming. With a guttural cry, Ivan brought his own hands to Mary’s swollen belly and began to press down with a ferocity that sent waves of agony across her face.
The pressure grew unbearable, and with a wet, tearing sound, a newborn’s head emerged from her torn stomach, glistening with blood and viscera. The siblings gasped in unison, their eyes wide with shock and awe. The incantation grew to a fever pitch as Ivan pulled, guiding the baby through the gruesome birth canal of torn flesh and gore.
With a final, wrenching effort, Pete’s reborn body slithered out of his aunt’s gaping wound, the foul stench of his rebirth filling the room. The baby let out a wail, not of pain but of triumph, as he was bathed in the crimson light of the candles, born anew through the most depraved of rituals. The family stood in awe, bound by their shared act of love and darkness, forever changed by the rebirth of their beloved Pete.
THE END OF CHAPTER FOUR