Date: Wed, 15 Sep 2010 07:43:32 -0700 (PDT)
From: Vincent Vincent <not_your_typical_master@yahoo.com>
Subject: Satanic Slave, Part 8

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.

WARNING -- some twisted shit in this and the following section.  Literally.

Satanic Slave - Part 8

A faggot assumed that the conversation was the end of the meeting, but the
Man was merely taking a rest.

"Swallow My Prick, suckboy.  And stay there with lips at My pubes."

That was an honor.  This Man had the most wonderfully unusual crotch.  Most
blonds' body hair, especially pubes, are darker than the hair on their
head.  This Man's Pubes, though, were an amazing platinum.  He was well
muscled; not the muscles of working out at the gym, but the muscles of real
work.

A faggot swallowed Cock and slowly sucked air around the Man's Dick to
breathe.

"Alright, faggot.  Now, look Me in the eye."

This was a first.  Faggots are trained to only focus on a Man's crotch and
ass.  It seemed best, though, to do whatever it took to make the Man happy.
So a faggot looked at the Man's face.

And a faggot choked.

This man was fucking beautiful.  His blond body hair exploded over His
chest.  His short hair and the goatee caressing His square chin created a
beautiful blond frame for His steel blue eyes.

"Now pull back and stare back at My Dick.  Blow Me properly, faggot, but
every time you get to My pubes, look Me in the eye and show Me how fucking
lucky you know you are."

That, Sir, will be a faggot's pleasure.  As a faggot massaged His Prick
with its tongue and throat, each look at His magnificent face developed a
greater feeling of intimacy.  Something that had not been felt or known in
any Man's prior usage.

When He got close, He held a faggot's head against His pubes and stared
right down into a faggot's soul as He shot.  This was fucking amazing.  A
faggot almost came from the experience.

He then tethered a faggot into one of the rooms and left.  A faggot's head
spun for quite a long time after that.  What the fuck was that?  i knew
nothing about the Man, and He knew nothing about me, but that intimacy was
undeniable and breathtaking.  Anonymous Intimacy.  Fuck, what a concept.

Some time later (Days?  Weeks?  Months? How could a faggot tell?), He
returned and once again pulled a faggot into one of the bedrooms.  He laid
a faggot on the bed, face up, and lowered His Ass onto its face, His back
to its crotch so He could stare into a faggot's eyes and soul.  "Eat My
Butt, asswipe.  Shove that faggot tongue as deep as it can go.  French kiss
My shithole. And don't take those cocksucking eyes away from My face."

Abso-fucking-lutely, SIR!  A faggot made tender love to the Man's asshole
and never tasted anything more wonderful.  This beautiful unknowable
intimate stranger.  After a long period of tongue-massaging His hole, as it
increasingly relaxed from a faggot's insistent tongue, a faggot felt
something slowly sliding into its mouth.

A faggot stared deep into those Nordic eyes and smiled.  Yes, Sir.  Any
gift from a Man like You is appreciated.  A faggot swallowed and moaned.
The Man smiled brightly and continued to feed.  "Good little faggot.  Make
Me proud."

Proud?  Proud of a faggot cocksucker?  Hell yes, SIR.  A faggot deepy
sucked out His Hole.  If depravity made this Man proud to be with a faggot,
then a faggot would be the most depraved bastard the world has ever seen.

When He finished feeding and got up from a faggot's tongue, i prayed for
more.  Hands folded, kneeling, literally praying for more.  "Please, Sir,
what other perversities can a faggot perform for You, SIR?  Whatever makes
You proud, SIR, will be a joy to accomplish."

The Man chuckled softly.  "One step at a time, kid."  Kid?  Wow.  There
didn't seem to be much of an age difference.  A term of affection from this
Man.  A faggot was shortly thereafter once again leashed in a room
wondering what the fuck was going on.

But something else was happening as well, something that had a palpable
affect on every Man, and therefore every faggot, within the compound.

There was no dress code for Men here.  Some stripped in the changing room
and paraded themselves around stark naked, enjoying the hungry stares of
every faggot who saw Them.  Some stayed fully dressed and only freed Their
Cocks after They pulled a faggot into whatever room They were about to use.
Some walked around in jockstraps, knowing how faggots drooled to taste the
fabric.

But recently Men came to the compound in long satin hooded robes.  Deep
blood red.  The hoods completely covered Their heads.  The robes were cut
so only Their Crotches and Asses were revealed.

The Initiators had arrived and were respected and feared.  Respected by Men
because They had the power to bring Men into Their ranks.  Feared by
faggots because They had the power to pull us into deeper pits of the
compound.  What were those pits?  A faggot could only imagine.

A faggot serviced the Initiators in fear.  Well, honestly, in terror.
Every Cock was worshiped, every Load was swallowed, praying aloud that They
would not be displeased.  They pulled a faggot into the family room and
enjoyed a game of golf.  "Kneel on the floor, cumslut.  Now open wide.  No,
OPEN FUCKING WIDE."

A faggots jaws screamed in compliance.  The Initiators took turns spitting
into its open mouth, seeing who would be the first to make a "hole-in-one."
A faggot was completely covered in spit before the game ended.  It remained
kneeling, drying and dripping, as all the Initiators simultaneously pissed
into its mouth.  "Don't lose a fucking drop, pee-brain."  Given there were
five streams at once, that was a losing battle.  "Jesus fucking christ,
look at that goddamn piss- and spit-covered floor.  Scrub it clean with
that cock-loving tongue.  NOW."

Another Initiator chimed in. "Hey, piss-breath.  This entire room is
fucking filthy.  Cum, spit and piss all over the place. Get every goddamn
inch of this floor clean.  If it's not fucking spotless by the time I
finish this beer, there's only one conclusion to make: this faggot craves
filth.  And We know just what to do with such sickos."  A faggot sucked as
much of the goddamn floor clean as it could, but the Initiator was already
half done with His beer when it started.  It was no doubt time to suffer
yet again.

A faggot was soon pulled out of the family room and down several hallways
to a place it had never been before.  The toilet.

Here Men (including the Initiators) relieved themselves.  There were a few
faggots lined up against the wall as urinals.  They were completely covered
in latex so as to not have any visual or physical connection with whoever
was using them.  As they recycled the fluids fed to them they had no choice
but to piss in their own latex enclosures, living in piss for as long as
the Initiators desired.

And then there were the stalls.

Each stall featured two faggots.  One was kneeling outside the stall with
its head shoved through the wall at waist height.  Its forehead displayed
its purpose: "TOILET PAPER".  The other faggot, including this one, was
housed within the toilet itself.  Its jaws were propped open with dental
gear and it was slid into the base of the john.

There wasn't a constant stream of Men wanting to take a crap, but there
were many.  Unable to chew because of the gear keeping its faggot jaws
open, there was little choice but to use its tongue to manage the flow into
swallows.  This was awful work, especially since there wasn't even the
opportunity to taste a Man's flesh.  No intimacy like there was with the
Viking (how a faggot described that blond God).  No emotional support.  A
faggot wished it could be promoted to toilet paper.  Yeah, how fucking sad
is that.

A some point in this disgusting hell of raunch a man sat down and let out a
massive fart.  "Suck down My gas, you fucking sewer."

Oh my fucking god ... it was The Voice.  The Man who seared a faggot's
pathetic brain into becoming part of this world.  A switch suddenly flicked
on in a faggot's psyche and it unquestioningly obeyed, deeply inhaling His
gas.  He laughed and got up to leave.  As He did, a faggot got a chance to
look at His crotch.

A faggot gasped.  That massive, whiskey-bottle Cock.  It was Him.  The
Founder.