Date: Mon, 17 Apr 2006 20:39:47 +0000
From: xangel@hotmail.com
Subject: Demon Dad (Part 1)

This story deals with M/M sexual relations between demons and Humans AND
between father and son.  IF you do not wish to read this material - turn
back now!  Although not stated within the story, all sex is between adults
of consenting age!  For more of my work, write me or look for "McKenzie
Men", "Yard Work" and "Blue Lights, Blue Balls" - all of which are
incest-based work.

ENJOY!

                 I had always known my father was a bit strange but on the
eve of his thirty-first birthday, I found out just exactly what it was about
my father that made him a little different than most.
	Our house is situated back away from things -- far away from things.  We
live about fourteen miles from the nearest town and my father works from
home.  Our house is tri-layered with a basement, a main floor and an upper
floor.  In the summer, the basement is the best place to be so that's where
we keep games, television and so forth.  Our bedrooms and Dad's office are
on the third floor and a spare room for company.  Pretty nice place to live,
for the most part, I'd have to say.
	This morning was like any other.
	My father got up first and had breakfast waiting for me when I finally came
down.  He was standing by the sink, looking into the forest beyond our
house, sipping coffee when I spooned up the eggs and other stuff he'd made.
He looked like he was in deep thought as his mustached mouth "o"-ed and blew
a bit on the steaming liquid.  I didn't say anything to him but took in that
solid upper physique and the lean way his back tapered into the curved band
of his pajama-bottoms.  He was nicely put together, I had to admit, but
that's usually where my fascination died.
	"I'll never get tired of this view." He said as he drank.
	"I guess so." I said to him, going to the table to eat.  My shorts and
shirt were enough to guard against the cold but this morning the house was a
bit warmer than usual.  I wondered about that as I began to eat.  "Is it hot
in here to you?"
	"Not especially, no."
	"It just seems...hotter than usual." I said around mouthfuls of food.  "Maybe
I've got a fever or something."
	"Or something."
	I regarded my dad for a moment and noticed that the hair on his chest
looked darker and denser but maybe that was my imagination.  As I was
looking at him, he turned and put the cup on the counter he was now facing --
the only thing that separated us, at this point.  I looked into his eyes and
there was something...different...behind those green eyes that matched mine.
	"Are you alright?" I inquired after a long silence.  "You're a
little...spaced out this morning. Is something bothering you?"
	"Not particularly."
	"Okay...if you say so."
	Still, my father's eyes didn't leave me as I finished my breakfast.  When I
got up from the table and put my bowl in the sink, he stopped me from
leaving the little kitchenette area by stepping between me and the way I'd
came in.  There was a scent about him that I'd never smelled before now but
I couldn't place it.  It wasn't bad, just an odd smell like cinnamon, cloves
and fresh dirt.  It was kind of nice but odd.
	"What?  Is your birthday making you strange-out like this?"  I asked him,
looking at him with a slight smirk.  "You probably don't need so much
caffeine at your age." I joked, putting a finger on his chest to emphasize
my point.
	"Probably not."  He returned, grabbing my wrist.  "You have plans today?"
He asked, still holding me by the wrist -- which I thought was extra odd.
	"Not really.  I thought I'd clean our rooms and watch a movie."  I answered
truthfully.  I was a bit of a neat freak and liked to clean on weekends.
"Was there something you wanted to do?"
	"At around twelve."  He answered, his voice strange but even and
unmenacing.  I didn't know what there was about him this morning that was
making him freakish like this but I would find out soon enough, I told
myself.  "I thought we might have a little father-son time down by the
lake."
	The lake was a nice place just down from our house.  It was secluded and
came with the property we owned.  What dad meant by "father-son time" was
what we did AT the lake.  We would strip down to nothing and dive into the
water from the small cliff at the lake's far side then swim all the way
across in a race.  Whoever won would have to make dinner that night or some
other small chore -- and then we'd swim back, play around in the water for a
while and just generally goof off.  We'd done this since I was about five or
six.
	"That's cool with me." I told him and he finally let go of me.  "I really
hope your birthday's not weirding you out.  Thirty-five isn't that bad.  It
could always be worse -- you could be forty!" I teased as I made my way
around my father's stocky frame and up the stairs to our rooms to clean.

	When it was around eleven-thirty six, I took a break and looked around my
rather neat and tidy room for my boots and short-shorts that I normally wore
to the lake.  Finding everything I needed, I added an old t-shirt that was
on its last legs.  Dressed, I was about to leave my room when my dad came to
my door -- his best Gomez Addams look plastered on his face.  I didn't know
what the freak to say to him with that look on his face.
	"Are you ready?" I asked him and he nodded.
	The walk down to the lake was eerie.  Dad didn't say a lot, just kept
looking up at the sky every few yards.  He was dressed in a pair of shorts
and a t-shirt with sandals on his bare feet.  His hair had always been long
and came to just below his shoulders in a neat curtain of dark chestnut with
blondish streaks that were a great natural highlight.  Today, it looked a
little darker for some reason and the highlights were almost gone.  I didn't
know what was going on but I started talking about half-way there and didn't
stop until we'd reached the lake.
	"Looks great, huh?"  I asked cheerfully, reaching for the hem of my shirt.
	"Wait. Don't do that just yet.  I want to show you something."
	Dad smiled at me.
	My father's face was a cross between young Burt Reynolds and Ryan Reynolds
(no relation, I'm sure.)  Dad had the cheerfulness of Burt and the scowling
perfection of Ryan -- like in the Amityville Horror remake. When he looked at
me with that face, his mustache framed his lips in an odd way and the
soul-patch under his bottom lip was equally so but I just smiled back
without a word.  Getting older was having a strange effect on my father.
	Taking my hand in a fatherly way, Dad led me through the woods, up and away
from the lake.  The woods held a path I'd never seen before and after
following it for what must have been over five hundred yards, we came to a
small clearing.  What made this especially odd was the way the tree's
overhead branches let in the light in almost a complete circle on the
ground.  My Dad went to stand in the circle, taking me with him.  When we
were standing there, I looked up.
	The sky was the same gray you get when you've mixed all your paints
together and watered them down.  It was cloudy -- something I'd never noticed
before and that made me shiver a bit.
	"What is going on?" I asked Dad, finally -- feeling a breeze begin to blow
around us.  "Is this some sort of birthday ritual you want to start?"
	"Something like that." He said to me, his hands going to my forehead.
"Have you been getting headaches, lately?"
	"A few -- just stress."
	"It's a bit more than stress."  Dad returned, his hands going through my
longish, wavy hair.  "You're coming into your heritage."
	"Headaches are my heritage?" I asked him stupidly.
	Dad stepped back from me and the wind picked up a bit more.  "No, son."  He
said softly, his fingers going to the waistband of his shorts.  I didn't
know exactly what was going on but I couldn't pull my eyes away from what he
was doing.  The buttons of his jean-shorts came loose and they fell to his
feet.  Slipping free of the fallen garment, my father pulled up his shirt
and removed it, leaving him standing naked save the sandals.  His hair
whipped around his face in slow whispers as the wind caught it.
	"Dad? Isn't this just the slightest bit strange?" I asked him, feeling a
little odd.
	"What's strange, son?" He retorted, almost reflexively.  "This is our land
and we can do on it what we see fit, correct?"
	I didn't have an answer either in the positive or negative as my father
stepped back to me, so close that I swear I could feel the dense hair on his
chest against my shirt.  His breath was warm as he spoke to me, his hands
were even warmer as they slipped under that shirt and brought it up and over
my head, removing it.  The words he said to me faded into the slight breeze
as his mouth became a source of fascination for me.  Full lips parted and
met one another under a dark mustache and over an even darker goatee.  It
was mesmerizing -- so much so that when Dad's hands were at the waistband of
my shorts, I couldn't stop him from removing them.  Maybe I could have, but
for some reason, I didn't.
	"Dad..." I started, the protest dying in my throat.
	My father's face shifted slightly as he knelt in front of me.  Looking up
at me, he smiled and his hand wrapped around my dick -- which had swelled to
a nice size without my even knowing it.  With his other hand, my balls were
loving taken into a firm grip and he began to massage them back and forth
and to roll them in his hand.  Taking my head into his warm mouth, he inched
his way down it until his facial hair mixed with my pubic hair and he seemed
to not want to move for a long moment.  I honestly couldn't breathe for the
longest moment until his head began to move again.
	"Oh...God." I moaned while his head bobbed up and down on me, his tongue
swirling around the shaft and head ad he did.  "This is so...wrong."  I
managed between bouts of licking and sucking on my dick.
	"Really?"  My father asked as his mouth slid easily from my hardness.
"Then why are you so hard, so ready for this, so anxious for me to
continue?"
	I couldn't argue.  I couldn't talk.  All I could do was look into my
father's deeply...crimson...eyes.  His eyes were the color of brick flecked with
gold.  I watched him stand and noticed that his skin was now a deep
mahogany.  Was I imagining things?  Had all of this deviance made me lose my
mind?  Taking a step back, I watched my father stand tall...taller than he was
before.  Not by feet but a few inches that seemed to magically have been
added to his height.  I couldn't be imagining the things I was seeing.
	"Dad?  You look...different."
	"No...you are just seeing me for what I truly am."  My father said as he
smiled at me from a few feet away.  "You are coming into your birthright --
and with it comes knowledge of your origins."
	"What are you talking about?"
	"You are of my flesh, son."
	When he said this, another strange transformation took place and at the
pace of butter slowly melting over warm toast.  The hair on his arms and
lower body grew thicker, darker and from somewhere behind him, a long and
slender -- tail -- whipped around his lower thigh.  It moved as if it were
alive, swaying back and forth, the tip of it slightly triangular.  I
couldn't believe what I was seeing.  Shaking my head a bit, I noticed the
small nubs of deep brown on my father's forehead and I felt my mouth come
open.  I wanted to scream, to be honest...I wanted to run away from this whole
thing.
	"Don't be afraid.  I'm still your father."
	The body of the creature in front of me was hard and beautiful.  I couldn't
stop looking at the wide expanse of his hairy chest with the glistening
silver rings that looped through each half-dollar sized nipple and the
rippling stomach that led down to a marvelous dick that I so wanted between
my lips, ass, and anywhere else it might fit.
	"And you are still my son."
	There was nothing to do but fall to my knees.  Around me, the wind seemed
to be picking up and the trees swayed in the same rhythm of the thick
appendage of my father's cock as he stepped to me.  Strong, veined hands
lifted my face to his and I saw the same handsome face I'd seen for all of
my years smiling down at me.  Through his parted lips I saw slight points to
his teeth as he spoke to me in tones like honeyed milk.
	"We share so much, you and I."  He said and I wanted to melt.  "We each
share a desire for one another and it's time that desire were fed."
	His left hand hefted his sweet meat up and I saw the veins along the shaft
literally pulse with a hearty lust as I bent my face forward and opened my
mouth to take the head of his cock.  His hips pushed forward only the
slightest bit and I felt my body shudder.  His other hand was on my face
still and his thumb began massaging my jaw.  The music of his voice caused
me to sway back and forth along his dick, my tongue licking eagerly, my lips
sliding joyously along his silken staff.
	"Yessss, do this for me..."  He moaned and I felt the slick friction
increase.  "Take me into your mouth, son!"
	The veins of his dick throbbed as I slowly took him into my mouth over and
over.  His body quaked as his hips slid his cock back and forth.  Fingers
tangled in my hair and held me still for a moment while he began to work his
meat into my mouth.  Long hissing noises emanated from him and I took them
in as the music they were.  It seemed like forever that I sucked, licked,
tasted and worshipped on his masculine meat!  What had happened to my
willpower and the feeling that what I was doing was wrong in some way?
Where was my righteous indignation at this deviance?
	The entire scene became even more surreal as the surroundings that we were
in darkened -- to mirror this dark act.  It was as if night had fallen in
this little clearing as I looked around us.  My father's broad body seemed
to have an orange aura that danced around his form like mad fire. What he
was saying was beyond comprehension -- as it didn't correspond to any words
that I knew.  Watching intently, I was keenly aware of the slightly acrid
taste in the air as he raised his arms to the darkened heavens.  Instead of
anticipating the coming hellstorm, all I could think of was how badly I
wanted to bury my face in the thickly haired armpits revealed by my father's
actions.  Even as I watched small trickles of moisture roll from the depths
of them down his sides, my mouth watered at the thought of tasting his sweat
straight from the source.
	My knees were planted firmly in the dirt and I was only slightly aware of
the rocks and other forest debris that dug into my skin as my body began to
tremble with a type of anticipation I had never felt before.  I knew that
something was about to happen as my father's voice reached a type of
crescendo.
	"Look to your kin, son."  My father..."Dad" didn't seem quite right,
anymore...said to me as he regarded several spaces around us.  "Look to them
to quench your lustful desires and to reflect upon your delicious demonic
heritage!"
	The shapes were beginning to take form and were each surrounding in a
corona of dark burgundy laced with yellow and orange -- a carnival of
hellfire dancing around each one of them.  They numbered six in all with
each one being different than the other but all of the same demonic nature.
At least that was evident from the way they emerged from their respective
corona and made their way toward me, forming a circle around me with my
father at the "head" of it.
	As with my father, each of these males had a distinguishing feature that
made them recognizable to me.  As they formed their hellish circle, a
realization hit me -- I knew each one of these guys from everyday dealings
with them!
	The one directly to my father's left was roughly six feet tall with a wild
mane of dark burgundy hair and wild amber eyes that danced with life.  His
face was attractively angular with sideburns of the same burgundy hair
reaching down his jaw line.  When he smiled at me, I glimpsed the same
pointed teeth and as his lips parted, a tongue seemed to roll from them to
whip at the air in a salacious frenzy in my direction.  This man-thing had
been my coach from school and had always been a friend of my father's...little
did I know until this moment how close a friend.
	"You will recognize my faithful servant," My father said, his voice warm
and crackling with energy of its own.  "Show my son your affection -- long
restrained by human propriety!"
	"I am Abaddon," This man-demon said to me as he stood above my kneeling
form.  "You have always been a favored piece of flesh that I have longed to
taste."
	His hands caught the sides of my head and brought my face up and to his.
That beautiful mouth he'd used to smile at me moments ago touched mine and a
dagger of pure and lustful delight stabbed into me -- as his tongue entered
my mouth immediately to caress and massage my own.  A long and almost
guttural moan started in him but was absorbed by the pressing of our mouths
together.  I felt it as we both shuddered together.
	When he drew back from me, I saw those amber eyes alight with desire and
felt my dick oozing with the same.  Even as his hands traveled over my
shoulders and down my arms to grip my wrists, I knew that pain would be a
part of pleasure with Abaddon and I didn't care.  I welcomed anything he
wanted to do to me.
	Abaddon was nude and his finely chiseled body was covered from top to foot
in a sheen of perspiration.  Leaning closer to him, I stuck out my tongue
and swiped the side of his face.  I was prepared for an acrid, tangy taste
but was rewarded with the deeply sweet taste of -- maple mixed with bitter
cinnamon.  He tasted wonderful!
	"You will taste me later, boy."
	I looked into his smiling face and knew what he meant.  He spread me using
my wrists and his tongue slathered my upper torso from the slant of my
collarbone to the crescent-moon slit of my navel and I was lit with demonic
desire for him to go lower.  True to his nature, he stopped and released me,
joining my father again.
	Abaddon was the chief demon, an advisor -- and destroyer.  I knew the Hebrew
legends of what he was capable of great cruelty and came from "the abyss".
As I looked at this splendid specimen of maleness, I took in a broad chest
devoid of hair but with a dark marking of concentric circles with a line
through some of them -- on anyone else I'd call it a tattoo but on him, I
wasn't sure.  His legs had the same circles with the same line through them
but the circles disappeared into the meaty parts of his thighs.  An equally
meaty piece of cock swung tantalizingly from side to side as he moved to
slip a muscled arm around my father's waist.
	Looking to the demon immediately to my right, I was confronted with a being
with skin of dark wood, literally covered from his curly head to his cloven
foot in short, dark hair that curled and swirled around every muscle on his
body.  What I noticed was the rich brown circles of his nipples that were
decorated with silver rods from which hung small chains with silver skulls
at their ends.  A matching chain and skull hung from his navel and just
inches from his pendulous cock.  An almost chiseled face bent to mine and a
smile spread to reveal perfect teeth with pointed incisors and canines.  A
serpentine tongue slithered from between them and grazed my lips.
	"Bechaud, lord of the natural forces of this world."  He told me
seductively as his hand pressed against my chest.  "It is your pleasure to
behold me in my primal form."
	Inside me, I felt the swelling of the waves, the thunder of the skies and a
feeling I had never felt before.  It was as if I were coming apart,
reforming and splintering into thousands of pieces all at the same time.  I
knew it was the touch of Bechaud that was causing this feeling in me and
that when he drew his hand away, the feeling would subside.  Breathing was
difficult for me when he withdrew and I felt a smashing of my heart against
my chest -- a desire for more of his touch.
	"He is a natural braggart." My father said and I realized in that moment
that Bechaud was indeed the man my father always played racquetball with on
the weekends and who had been at our table for dinner many times over.
"Zealous, randy and always ruled by the organ between his shapely legs!"
	True enough, his cock oozed clear liquid without being touched or coaxed
from its dark brown head.  Even as I watched it run like a small river onto
the ground, I wanted to taste it and feel it run smoothly down my throat.
	The next to step to me was an ebony specimen that seemed to be carved
directly from granite and given life!  I couldn't believe what I was seeing
as this massive frame blocked my father and the two demon attendants who now
stood on either side of him.  This new arrival had an expansive chest as the
others had.  The stark difference was that there were fine ivory wisps of
hair that clumped together in sweaty ringlets in the cleft of his chest to
spread under his pectoral muscles and line the crevice of his tightly
muscled abdomen.  The same ivory hair fanned out over a beautifully veined
and throbbing cock that jutted out from his body as if announcing his
coming.  The perfect, helmeted head was a darker black and gleamed with a
single pearl of precum.
	Thick fingers slid under the head, catching the drop on the tip and it was
offered to me.  I opened my mouth slowly, reverently and accepted the
honeyed gift eagerly.  It was like the juice of a fine steak with a hint of
raspberry.  It was torture to swallow, as the rich taste left my taste buds.
	"Naamah bids you welcome to our circle of masculine sin, young one."  This
ebony entity said to me, his voice like rain against tin.  "Would you drink
from this fountain?"  Holding his cock, he stepped forward so that the dark
head was within reach of my more than hungry mouth.
	Parting my lips for it, I welcomed the thickness, the warmth and the oozing
juice of his cock into my mouth.  He pushed himself into me until my nose
was nudging his lower stomach and his ivory pubic hair tickled my nose.  My
throat relaxed and as I swallowed repeatedly, massaged his length time after
time.  There were few times when I felt more as if I were dreaming than I
did at this very moment -- having a dark demon dick down my eager throat!
	Naamah put a hand on my forehead and I felt the solid bands of rings on his
fingers that I'd not noticed before.  His splayed fingers gripped my face
and head and held me still while his hips began to move back and forth
withdrawing and depositing his dick into my willing mouth.  Holding onto his
strong legs, I fastened my lips to his cock and let him ride my face at
whatever pace he felt he could handle.  After a relatively short time, I
felt the telltale tensing of his body and the gripping of my face increased.
  I knew this was the moment he would reward my cocksucking and braced
myself for it.
	"NO!"
	The booming of my father's voice caused Naamah's cock to stiffen that much
more, filling my mouth to overflow but not with his juices.  Instead, the
onyx demon withdrew his engorged tool slowly from my aching mouth and smiled
down at me as he rejoined my father's band around me.  To say that I was
disappointed would be mild understatement in the same way that saying
Dante's Inferno was just a book.
	Next I found myself being caressed from the front and the back by the fur
of hairy legs and the smoothness of lips, the sharpness of small teeth
biting delicately into my flesh in random places and the light clawing of my
own hairy chest and sensitive nipples.  Two young and randy satyrs had taken
the place of the ebony demon and even as they played with my body in unison,
each of them whispered wickedly sadistic and sexual things to me.
	"We're going to use you, boy."  One would whisper before his tongue would
caress the outer part of my ear.  "Slip our twin dicks into your pink hole
and watch you ride us both!" The other would finish, his hands twisting my
nipples into pained pleasure points.  "We'll turn you onto your head and
screw your holes from every point possible until you beg us to fill you with
our cum!"  They said in unison as each of them clamped down on a nipple with
their fiendishly fun and furry mouths!
	"Vosh!" My father said, finally as they played down my stomach -- and with
one another as they traveled the length of my body.  "Vask! Before you get
too involved, we must do what it is we truly came here for."
	As the two small satyrs left my body, I noticed that each of them had
strong upper torsos that were covered in fine golden fur that matched their
lower halves.  Each of them had horned heads with ringlets of the same gold
and eyes of flamed green that almost seemed to glow their sexual debauchery.
  Mustaches and beards -- both neatly trimmed adorned their decidedly
masculine faces.  Neither stood much over five feet tall but each had a cock
easily nine inches long -- or so I thought as I watched each of the little
guys manhandle the other, even as they obeyed my father.
	From behind me came the final demonic addition to what had started as a
father/son outing.  The first thing I felt was strong hands massaging my
shoulders.  My father moved from where he stood surrounded by his demon band
and behind him, the wind whipped up what looked like a cloak of various
forest debris.  As he made his way to me, his hands spread wide and from
nowhere materialized a dark, thick cord of what looked like leather.  I knew
when he took it by the solid handle what it was and my heart jumped in my
throat.  It was the blackest, thickest, and most menacing whip I'd ever seen
and my father brandished it as if it were made for his hand alone.
	"That is sufficient, T'an-mo," My father told the demon behind me.  I
recognized the name as being Chinese and the meaning being that of the demon
of desire.  "Look to me, son."
	When he was solidly planted in front of me, I saw that my father was
steadily threading the whip through his clenched fists and eyeing me
pointedly.  A serious scowl darkened his face and I knew what he planned to
do.
	"No...please." I whispered.  "Don't do this, Dad."
	"It is the way, son.  Pleasure through pain...and your birthright."
	"Master, perhaps a bit of pleasure first."  T'an-mo said to him, his voice
throaty and laced with clear lust -- for me?  "Only to whet his appetite and
bring his senses to alignment with what is to befall him."
	"I said -- no."
	The hands that had caressed me were gone.  The demons that had appeared
formed a circle around me and my father knelt in front of me.  His face was
still the one I remembered but also strange and alien, as well.  He had
never been deliberately cruel to me in all my years but this was beyond
anything I'd thought could be possible.  Looking into my father's eyes, I
saw something dark and I knew he meant to use his ebony weapon and that I
was the intended target.
	"Stand."  Was the only thing he said to me and I immediately did as he told
me.
	The nearest demons took hold of my wrists -- Naamah and Abaddon were holding
me tightly as the twin satyrs took hold of my ankles and held me
spread-eagled while still standing.  Tears sprang from my eyes as my father
backed away and let the whip drop to the dirt.  His long cock was thick with
this deed and his dark tail swung like a contented cat as he flexed the
whip.
	"No..." I whispered again just before the first blow was delivered!
	The sound of the whip was the first sensation I was aware of.  The CRACK it
made was the first thing that jolted my senses before the bite of pain on my
back!  The leathery material of the whip made contact with my shoulder
before curling solidly over it to kiss my back.  Before I could react fully
to the pain of this treatment, another CRACK resounded in the dense forest
and pain tore through me again.  Third, fourth and fifth lashes followed and
still more after until I lost count and through I would lose consciousness.
If not for the steadfast demonic support, I would have collapsed.  Pain
ripped through me like a wildfire and lit up my body.  Everywhere the whip
touched was on fire and I smelled what I thought to be blood.
	"He bleeds, Master!" Abaddon said, his voice a hazy sound in the back of my
mind.  "Finally, he bleeds!"
	It was then that I felt the warmth.
	Hot air upon my lips, my cheeks, my chin, throat and collarbone brought me
around to something akin to consciousness.  Opening my eyes for perhaps the
first time since the whipping began, I saw my father's face and he was
smiling.  When my senses began to return one upon another, I was aware that
the demons that had held me were doing so no longer and that my father was
holding my bloody body.
	"You were difficult to bleed my son!"  He said in a low and husky whisper
that made my dick throb to hear.  "I am proud of your stamina!"
	Hands held my upper back and the right curve of my ass.  Those hands were
holding my entire weight and it felt fantastic.  The warm air that I had
felt had been my father's breath as he kissed me -- pressing his lips
delicately to each of the stripes he'd given me.  Moisture was the next
sensation I felt and I knew he was now licking my body clean of the blood
he'd coaxed from me.
	"Intoxicating."  He moaned, pressing us together tightly.  "You taste
beautifully sweet and masculine, my son."
	"Master?"  Vosh said from where he had held my ankle.  "May we?"
	"Yes, faithful."
	Then, I felt myself being set upon.  From behind, a mouth fixed itself to
an open wound on my shoulder and began to pull blood from it.  On each of my
legs, furry mouths sucked and licked at the blood that ran there.  My arms
were each lifted to the sides and warm tongues, lips, and mouths feasted on
my wounds.  Father never let go of me and his fingers dug into my asscheek
and back to keep us pressed tightly together.
	"They feast on your essence, son."  Warm words told me.  "Soon, you
will do the same!  You will enjoy the trueness of what you are and what we
have been for thousands of years.  Very soon, my son, you will be what you
were always meant to be...."