Date: Fri, 17 Sep 2010 20:31:43 -0700 (PDT)
From: Vincent Vincent <not_your_typical_master@yahoo.com>
Subject: Satanic Slave, Part 11

Once again, THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.  The narrative that follows did not
happen to Me or to anyone else by Me.  Don't contact Me to meet this slave.
DO contact Me if you want to become this slave.  <smirk> Also contact Me
with any praise, criticism, or suggestions.  All feedback is good.

Satanic Slave - Part 11

From that moment until the Consecration Ceremony, the lives of a turd-faced
faggot and the Viking were spent preparing His Hole for the fuck of death.
Constantly working and stretching His Hole to accommodate a Dick that was
simply too big to ride. A faggot helped by keeping His cock aroused and His
hormones flowing.  Driving Him crazy with desire to cum.  Keeping him
moaning in pleasure from massaging just the top of His Dickhead and letting
that pleasure mitigate the agony of His Ass.

Time passed and He still could do little more than stretch His hole across
the gigantic Dickhead.  At one point His arms gave out and He simply
collapsed on the stone Phallus.  He screamed as it slid inside Him.  He
could no longer lift Himself up and He just sobbed as He was fucked with
stone.

At some point the area around the pentagram was cleared.  One of the
Initiators unglued a faggot's lips from the Viking's cock cage.  At each of
the 5 points of the pentagram, strange high-backed chairs were installed.
Five faggots were later dragged in.  Their legs were locked to the top of
the chairs at the back so they straddled the chair backs.  Their heads were
underneath the seats, looking up.

The Initiators sat on the chairs' rimseats facing the chairbacks.  They
adjusted Themselves so Their bare Holes were above the faggots` mouths.
They locked stretchers onto the fagboys' nutsacks. And they simultaneously
began pounding on the faggots' balls.

The screaming of the faggots could be heard throughout the complex and Men
entered the room seating Themselves on the floor wearing bright red satin
robes.  The nut-beating continued for several minutes until the room was a
sea of red with only the pentagram uncovered.

The Founder entered the room and a reverent hush followed Him to the
center.

"Gentlemen, we are here tonight to consecrate this holy temple.  To bless
it with seed so that it may not only to continue its fine service, but
assist in the glorification of all We hold dear.

"In what they call a church, I would now bore you to tears with words about
mercy, kindness and love.  But here, in the True Church, I give you
honesty.  Predators attack prey.  Users exploit victims.  Men abuse
cocksucking faggots.

"We have here two such queerholes.  One is here as planned; the other is
here by misrepresentation.  You see, gentlemen, it had come here under the
pretense of being a Man like Us.  But the truth of Cock revealed that this
alleged Man was nothing more than a pathetic suckwhore aching to service
Dick.  Just as it is servicing dick right now."

The 5 Initiators rose and yanked the stone Phallus from the Viking's
embracing Hole.  He screamed, pulling against the chains holding Him in
place.

"It will now serve its purpose by caressing My cock to the point of orgasm
for us both.  My glorious Cum and its otherwise worthless fagseed will join
on the floor and bless this altar."  The Initiators grabbed a dogbitch
faggot, me, and placed it at the Viking's distended ass. They then all
disrobed themselves.

Each of Them were covered with scars, brandings, and degrading tattoos.
They took Their place behind The Founder, shaved heads down in respect.

"Gentlemen, it is time to fuck."

The Founder took position behind the Viking.  A shithead faggot was
stationed between them.  Two of the Initiators knelt, one at each side of a
faggot. One whispered in its ear, "We each worship one of His Nuts.  It
must lick His bountiful Cock and the bound bitch's hole to increase both
their pleasures."  Two other Initiators faces fell to worship the Founder's
feet.  The last Initiator knelt behind The Founder to adore His Anus.

The Founder slid off His Robe and the entire room moaned in awe at His
Erection.  Faggots were led in from the side hallways to service the Men.

The Founder grabbed the Viking's hips and yanked His ass backward onto His
inhuman Cock.  The Viking screamed in agony as the Initiators and a
cocksucking faggot began to honor the Founder's flesh.  Faggots were
grabbed and every hole was filled with hard dripping Dick.

The Founder's Cock could not be thwarted. It had its prey and wouldn't
compromise.  The Viking's screams rose in intensity and rhythm.  A faggot
kept pushing its tongue against the intersection of Founder-Dick and
Viking-Ass.  There was actual pain in this act from the unexpected heat of
the Founder's flesh; it could only imagine the agony of being skewered by
such fevered meat.  The reward for a faggot's torment was the gradual
morphing of the Viking's cries from agony into pleasure.  It could feel His
body begin to tense.  The tension made the Founder's Cock even harder as
they both approached orgasm.

The Viking, still screaming, shot a load through his cockcage onto the
center of the pentagram.  The Founder responded to the Viking's tremors
with His own release, pulling Himself out of the Viking's Ass to flood the
floor with His glorious Load.  And the entire room miraculously exploded
into a single massive orgasm.  Even the Initiators shot Their loads without
ever touching their Pricks.

Only faggots didn't get to shoot.  Except for the Viking, whose cum was
part of the Consecration.  Proving the Power of the Founder's Cock.  Of
every Man's Cock.

As the room collectively caught its breath, The Founder stood, still naked,
in front of the Viking.  The Founder pulled a turdsucking faggot to kneel
in front of Him, facing the Viking.  "Now it is time to complete our deal,
faggot.  Announce to these Men what it is, what its purpose is, why it
fucking breathes, and then spend the rest of its life with the cockwhore it
loves."

The Viking's eyes darted back and forth between the Founder and a faggot.
He spoke humbly to Him and the room of Men.

"Lord, Sirs, this ignorant faggot begs Your forgiveness for its failure to
understand its true self.  Any doubt of its queerness was just erased by
experiencing the joy of being fucked with Your monstrous Prick.  Lord, it
will be honored to serve and service Your Cock, alongside Your other
faggot, for as long as You allow it, Lord Master, Sir.  And Sir, if You
will be so generous, Your new worthless cuntfaced ignorant whore begs to be
allowed to personally beg every Mancock in the room for forgiveness."

He nodded and two Initiators unlocked his wrists.  The viking fell to the
ground a pulled himself, er, itself to the nearest Cock.  It suckled and
begged the Cock for mercy.  "Please, Lord Cock, forgive this shithead
dicksucker for being so stupid."  The Cock granted it the gift of piss.
The viking swallowed, murmuring its thanks, and crept to the next Cock for
absolution.

And that began our continuous personal service to His glory.  Wherever He
goes, we follow, crawling behind Him. We sleep each caressing one of His
grapefruit-sized testes with our tongues.  While He works at His desk, one
gently licks His Prick, just like the stone Phalluses at the compound,
while the other tongue-washes His Feet or Hole.  His frequent fucks have
stretched our fuckholes to be useless to Men. We are, instead, given out to
His business clients a suckwhores, pimped out for His profit.  We service
His kennel.  (We are often locked into position there facing each other.
The viking once licked a pisswhore's lips with its tongue as we were
simultaneously mounted and we deeply kissed each other.  We have learned to
survive, no, to enjoy this brutality by making love to each other while
Hell Hounds surround us.)  We scrub clean every inch of His beautiful flesh
with our mouths.  We are His urinals, His sewers, His fuckholes, His
faggots.  We
 are, simply, His.

We aren't allowed to speak to each other, only to Him in response to His
questions.  There is no need for speech.  We communicate by touch, by
facial expression.  Besides, what is there to say?  There are faggots and
there is Cock.  That's the only thing TO say.  The only thing worth saying.

Which then begs the question of this note.  If a faggot hasn't escaped, how
and why was this written?

Remember, this all began decades ago.  We have aged and the Founder has
allowed us to find Him new faggots to worship Him before we someday pass.
So should you ever find an ad with the words that seduced a faggot all
those years ago, you know what to do.

The funny thing is, even though we have gotten older, the Founder hasn't
aged a day.  He still looks fucking magnificent, regal, just goddamn hot.

One day He introduced Himself to a business client.  "Just call me Stan."
Huh.  Stan.  There's good reason to suspect He simply omitted a letter from
His True Name


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Thank you all, gentlemen, faggots, and others, for your valuable feedback
during this process.  You've made it a pleasure to transcribe the twisted
processes of My mind.

Vincent