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Sacrifice To The Dark Lord


Gymguy8

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1.

 

It started at a New Year's Eve party. It was the last day of 1995, heading into 1996. Outside, in the nation, a culture war was raging, and it felt like sometimes we were losing. Inside, all of us young gay men were terrified. AIDS was everywhere, and there was still no cure, no treatment, and most of all, no hope. We all had gotten the religion of safer sex, of relentlessly using condoms. We were all good boys, and used them every single time. Except, of course, when we didn't. When we were too drunk. Too high. Too enamored of our partner.

 

In the run up to midnight, we were playing a drinking game. Our host was reading a list of activities. Every time he read one that we had done, we drank. Sometimes, we would nervously look around, seeing who else dared to drink, like when he read "had sex without a condom." Other times, there was a raucous cheer and we all drank, like when he said, "Got a blow job."

 

At the end of the game, all of us were drunk to one degree or another. That was when Jeff came up to me. We were casual acquaintances. We would say hello in the bar, and see each other at parties. But we had never really talked. "I saw you drank when Shawn asked if you had sex without a condom," he said.

 

"Yeah," I nodded.

 

"And when he asked about sex with a poz guy."

 

"Yeah," I said again.

 

"Same guy?" he asked, an evil smile on his face.

 

"No," I said. "Of course not."

 

"Ahh, too bad." But, before I could say another word, someone lurched between us, and started to talk to Jeff. I'm not sure it mattered. The seed had planted in my mind, and it started to take root. To get fucked raw by a poz guy. To do something so utterly reckless and stupid. To utterly stop worrying about consequences of my actions. I didn't remember much about the rest of the evening, other than that ill-advised and imprudent idea.

 

Like the deadly virus all around me, it festered and slowly grew. I had discovered the Internet, and had discovered there was a word for it. Barebacking. It seemed both completely wrong and scarily hot. I discovered there were groups of men who gathered to enjoy skin-on-skin contact and exchanging fluids. I discovered that some of them would welcome negative guys into their circle, infecting them in a dark and depraved orgy of raw fucking. Last, but not least, I discovered that my acquaintance Jeff was a member in one of these clubs.

 

He encouraged me to learn more about the club and more about the virus. He introduced me to other members of the club, and I heard their stories. Most of all, Jeff gave me permission to fantasize about joining their private club. "It's ok," he would message me on AOL. "It's just a fantasy when you are jerking off. It's no more real than the frat brothers fucking in porn." Those were the nights I came the hardest. Thick ropes of cum would cover my chest and I was disappointed they did not burn with the virus.

 

Online, I would exchange messages with the other guys in the club. They talked about how good it felt to fuck raw and how relieved they were that they weren't frightened anymore. They encouraged my fantasies as well and told me I should visit their club one night. It was Jeff who finally extended the formal invitation. They wanted to have a party in my honor. "Summer Solstice. Friday, June 21st. We'll all spend the weekend having fun," he said. "Just be ready for the ritual," he continued, a hint of mystery in his voice. He told me the address and said I should be there at 8PM sharp.

 

On the appointed Friday, time seemed to stand still. I had been planning to leave work early, have a drink and relax before the party. But instead, I had a last minute fire to fight, and I barely had enough time to shower and get dressed before I had to rush out the door. The address led me through the old industrial part of town, to an anonymous warehouse. There were several cars out front, parked on what I hoped was an abandoned railway spur. I parked next to them.

 

There was a single bare bulb over the door, providing just enough light to read the number on the door. 2718, it read, the same address that Jeff had given me. I knocked on the door, wondering what I was to do next. The door opened; it was darker inside than outside. "Yes?" a man asked from within.

 

"I'm Tim," I said. "Jeff said to come here."

 

"Right. You're the initiate."

 

"Yeah," I said.

 

"Come in." The door opened a bit further, but it was still dark. I stepped inside, and hoped that my eyes would soon adjust. Black curtains, hung from the high ceilings, marked off the entry area and there were two large candles burning on iron stands. Mixed with the smell of the candles were the hints of sex. I could smell the sweat, a bit of lube, and the promise of cum. In the background, there was a low prayer-like chant droning on.

 

The door behind me closed, and I began to see more details. The man who had let me in was about my height, maybe 6'4", with a muscular, hairy chest. He was almost naked, wearing a pair of black combat boots, and a black leather mask that exposed only his mouth and two holes for his eyes. "Strip down," he said. I kicked off my shoes, pulled off my shirt and removed my shorts. "All the way," he said, nodding at my underwear. His cock was hanging down, thick but still mostly limp.

 

I took off my underwear, and stood in front of him, completely naked. He knew my name but I knew almost nothing about him. In addition, he had slightly more clothes than I did, plus the relative anonymity the mask afforded him made me feel even more vulnerable. "Follow me," he said, turning around, and walking slowly deeper into the warehouse. His ass was firm and muscular, and I wondered how it would feel to slide my raw cock into him.

 

He parted the curtains; the next room seemed to have a bit more light. "Come," he said. I followed his lead, and walked through the curtains. The room was much bigger, but the light was just an illusion; there was a candle right where we entered. It took me a moment to take everything in.

 

Painted in white in the middle of the room was a white circle, a pentagram inscribed inside it. At each of the five points, there was a heavy steel column with a candle flickering. Around the perimeter of the circle were men, all with various black leather masks on. Some masks covered only their eyes, while others covered most of their faces.

 

At the head of the pentagram, one man stood alone, a pair of black boots and a leather executioner's hood. In front of him, right at the center of the pentagram, was a wooden fuck bench with thick leather straps hanging off. Even with the heavy hood on, I could tell he was watching my every move. Like a wolf tracking his prey. He shifted his weight and a heavy steel axe glinted in the candlelight. I shivered. It was not clear if this was an initiation or something much more dangerous.

 

"My Father," the man who had led me in said, "I bring the Initiate." He left me at the base of the pentagram, the fuck bench the only thing between me and the man in the executioner's hood. I could barely keep my eyes off of the man in front of me. His uncut cock was sticking up, erect and hard. Even hard, the foreskin covered the head, making him seem even more like a wild animal, barely tamed.

 

"Welcome to the temple of the Dark Lord," he said. I was still looking around, trying to take in the entire scene. It was a scene from one of the darkest stories I had read. A Church to Sex, dedicated to a malevolent and dirty God, charged with the task of spreading their disease. My cock began to twitch at the thought.

 

"Thank-you," I said.

 

"You may call me Sir," he said. In the flickering candles, I could only just see his mouth move. His eyes were dark, unfeeling pits of blackness.

 

"Thank you Sir."

 

"You are the Initiate, correct?"

 

"Yes Sir, I am."

 

"You know why you are here, right, Initiate?"

 

"I do, Sir."

 

"You are ready to give your body to the Dark Lord? To let him rule you?"

 

"I am, Sir." I knew what was going to happen. These men were all going to fuck me. They were going to fuck me raw, and shoot their seed in me. From the looks of the men arrayed around the room, at least a few of them were full-blown. The rest, no doubt, had the Dark Lord's virus pumping through their veins. It would require divine intervention from a much better God for me not to get infected this evening.

 

"Are you ready to die for him?"

 

The Dark Lord's virus was both fatal and incurable. I would be pumped full of it by the horny men surrounding me. I would be infected, which meant I would die. "I am. Sir."

 

"Good. I will be your executioner tonight. Do you accept my authority?"

 

"I do, Sir."

 

"Do you give me your body to do as the Dark Lord wishes?"

 

"I do Sir. To the death."

 

"And you will die from tonight's ordeal," he said. His cock twitched and a bead of pre-cum appeared on his slit. The twisted fuck was enjoying this. I had to admit I was as well. Hot men surrounded me, each of them ready to fuck me raw and pump me full of their jizz. By the end of the weekend, I would be dripping with sperm.

 

"Death in the service of the Dark Lord is an honor, sir."

 

"Good. For the rest of the ritual, you will not have a name. You will be known only as the Sacrifice." He made it sound evil and dirty. My cock was nearly erect. This was worse than any dark jerk off fantasy I had ever had and better than more favorite porn. He turned to a man standing to his right, shifting the axe to his other hand. "Acolyte?" my executioner said. "Yes, Sir?" the new man asked. I hadn't recognized any of the men; with their heads hidden under the masks and hoods, it was impossible to see any of the critical details. But, once I had heard his voice, I knew who it was. It was Jeff.

 

"Has the method of execution been selected?"

 

"It has Father."

 

"And what is the decision of the Black Cabal in how to dispose of Sacrifice?"

 

"Anally injected death sentence. AIDS." Jeff stared at me, smiling. "It shall be carried out every week until the sacrifice is infected."

 

"AIDS it was, AIDS it is and AIDS it will be." my executioner confirmed. "The Dark Lord rejoices in his virus. Did the sacrifice hear his sentence?" he asked me.

 

"I did," I said. I still couldn't keep my eyes off of his cock. It was seemingly even more erect than earlier and still, the head was covered by foreskin. "I did. And, my Executioner, I accept the decision of the Dark Lord's darkest minions."

 

"The Sacrifice will assume the position on the altar." He motioned for me to get on the fuck bench. I climbed on to the wooden bench. It was solid, barely even moving as I rested my weight against the cool leather pads. I adjusted myself, feeling my cock throb underneath me. As the thick straps brushed against my legs and arms, I felt the first pangs of fear. Until now, it had been just play. It wasn't real.

 

From the left and the right, two men stepped forward from the ranks, and adjusted the straps. First, they did my thighs, then my arms. I tested them, but the leather straps were tight and strong. I was totally naked, strapped into place, unable to move, and totally powerless to defend myself from perverted desires of the men surrounding me.

 

The ritual may have been a bit dramatic and over-wrought, but there was a core of truth to it. I had agreed to be infected with a deadly disease, and, eventually, when I was on my deathbed, I would be able to trace it back to this night. As the reality of what I had started hit me, the room seemed to swallow me up. I could feel every stray draft across my skin. I could hear every slight shift in weight from the men around me. And most of all, I could smell them. Their masculine sweat was the dominant smell, but there was the hint of metallic tang from the pre-cum starting to drip from their erections.

 

I wanted to slow it all down and think it through again. I had jerked off to every imaginable permutation and combination of getting infected, except for the actual reality itself. Now, faced with the harrowing reality of getting infected, I was having second thoughts. Once more, I pulled against the straps, but there was no more play than the first time. I was tied down and there was no chance of mercy from these men.

 

Oblivious to my mounting fears and growing doubts, the man I now thought of as my executioner turned to his left side. Another man stood there, again, wearing nothing but a pair of boots and a black mask around his eyes. "My acolyte, has the cabal granted any relief for the ordeal?"

 

"They have my Father. The sacrifice is allowed an emollient to begin. And with your blessing, he may enjoy the Dark Lord's glass cock."

 

"The sacrifice is lucky," the executioner said. "Do you have the emollient?"

 

"I do, my Father."

 

"Then prepare the Sacrifice," he said. The man stepped forward from where he stood by the executioner, leaned down and extracted a thick tube from his boots. He walked towards me, and I could see it was a syringe, just lacking a needle. It was filled with an opaque white fluid. "We anoint the sacrifice with the semen of the Dark Lord."

 

The man took up a position behind me, close enough that I could feel the warmth from his body against my skin. "This will hurt," he grunted. Before I could even fully process what he had said, he stuck his gloved hand into my crack, spreading my cheeks apart and exposing my hole. He pushed the syringe into my anus, forcing it deep within me. The sharp plastic edges hurt as it penetrated, but it was only for a moment. He pressed down, and there was a cool sensation in my gut. "Should be good," he grunted again, and pulled it out.

 

He rubbed my hole for a few seconds, getting it to close up. "It will take a few minutes for the Dark Lord's semen to take effect," the executioner said. The gloved man stepped back from behind me and resumed his position next to the executioner. "Congregation, are you ready to begin?" the executioner asked.

 

"We are," the men surrounding me answered.

 

He turned back to Jeff. "Acolyte, are you ready?"

 

"I am, my father," Jeff answered. He grabbed his erection and shook it.

 

"Take the position," he told Jeff. Jeff stepped away from his place by the executioner, and walked behind me. He rubbed his cock against my crack. Between a bit of the semen from the syringe and the pre-cum on his cock, there was just enough lube for his shaft to slide back and forth. Like a torpedo to its target, his cock quickly found my hole. He paused and cleared his throat.

 

"Thank you, Dark Lord, for allowing me to start the sacrifice in your honor." Jeff called out in a clear, loud voice, loud enough for the entire room to hear.

 

"Hail Lucifer," the men replied. The response came from every side of the pentagram, enveloping me in the raucous joy of the men ready for the chance to breed me.

 

"Thank you, Dark Lord, for your minions who have infected me."

 

"Hail Lucifer," the response rose again from the men.

 

Thank you Dark Lord, for the drugs that make me not care."

 

"Hail Lucifer," came from the assembled men again.

 

"Thank you, Dark Lord, for the opportunity to further your cause."

 

"Hail Lucifer"

 

"Thank you, Dark Lord, for the pleasure of converting the sacrifice to your cause."

 

"Hail Lucifer"

 

"Acolyte, you may begin the insemination," the Executioner said.

 

"Thank you Sir," Jeff said. His cock was still resting against my hole, hard and dripping precum. "It will be my pleasure."

 

His cockhead was primed and ready, but not yet in me. He pressed, and suddenly, the tip of his dick was inside me. It hurt, but only just a bit. He pressed again and his entire shaft was inside me. It hurt but at the same time, in that second of pain, I suddenly knew more about Jeff than months of casual conversation. I understood his anger at the boyfriend who had betrayed him and infected him. I knew about his shame and fear of being treated as a diseased pariah. I grasped his contentment of finding a community that accepted him. Most of all, I felt his ecstatic pleasure at being inside me.

 

His cock was a hard, raw shaft buried inside of my body. He was dripping his infected pre-cum into me. The pain I felt from his hard cock penetrating my body was nothing. I could not deny Jeff his pleasure, his feeling of raw power over me just for the pain and discomfort he was putting me through. My agony was the very tiniest of offerings I could give to the Dark Lord.

 

Jeff paused a moment with his balls pressed hard against my ass. His cock throbbed, and a bit of pre-cum leaked out. He grabbed my waist. It was more to give him some leverage; I was still secured to the fuck bench. No matter how hard Jeff pounded my ass, I would not be moving. I tensed, ready for his next move. "Oh fuck," he grunted in pleasure. "So tight," he murmured, just loudly enough for me to hear.

 

He pulled his cock almost all the way out, so that just his head was still inside my hole. It was no longer the full length and width of his erection inside of me, but I still wasn't able to relax. "Be still," he murmured. "Open up for me. Open up and let the Dark Lord take over your body." Jeff paused for a moment, and then spoke again, louder this time. "May he?" he asked to the executioner.

 

I looked up at the naked man. He was still this perfect specimen of masculinity, his body nearly all muscle, his chest covered with a light dusting of light brown hair flecked with grey. He nodded ever so slightly. I wondered if I had even seen it or if it was just my eyes playing tricks on me in the flickering candlelight. But, a young man walked out from among the gathered men, directly to me.

 

He was different from the other men. For one, he was younger, maybe only barely twenty years old. It was easy to tell because he was not wearing a mask and his cock was imprisoned in a steel chastity cage. He was wearing sneakers as well; the overall impression was of a young man, still not sure of himself. In his hand, he had a familiar small brown bottle. "You'll want this," he said. He opened the bottle and held it under my nose. "Lucky," he murmured as I sniffed from the poppers.

 

I inhaled deeply, letting the chemical fill my lungs. I held it long enough for the familiar warm waves of happiness to start to wash over my body. My entire body relaxed. Jeff could feel the change, and pressed his shaft back into me. "Let me in," Jeff said, pushing another inch of his hard shaft into my raw hole.

 

This time, it did not hurt as much. There was still the warm, burning sensation in my hole, but the sharp pains had disappeared. Jeff's cock now felt like it belonged inside of me. As the poppers flooded my brain, I wanted more than just a few inches of Jeff's shaft in me. I wanted all of him. I wanted every man in the room to fuck me and fill me with his seed. I had never felt a hunger like this before.

 

I tried to push back against Jeff's cock, but the leather straps held me in place. They were now a cruel joke. I had always known they were there to hold me in place and to keep me from running away from the assembled men. But, instead, they were keeping me from running towards my desires and dreams. "Calm down," Jeff said. "You'll get far more than you'll need." His cock slid the rest of the way into me and his balls slapped against my ass. Even as big as his cock was, it was still not enough for me. I looked around, craving each man's load.

 

"The spirit of the Dark Lord is here," Jeff announced to the gathered men. There was a murmur of approval from the men. "The sacrifice can feel his hunger." I couldn't explain it, but Jeff was right. The hunger was consuming me, and the only way it could be satiated was from these men fucking me. Jeff pulled out, and slammed back into me. If it were not for the Dark Lord's influence, it would have been an excruciating experience. But instead, it felt completely natural and appropriate.

 

As Jeff started to fuck me harder, the assembled men started to respond to the fucking. "Breed him," they said, there words punctuated by another forceful thrust from Jeff. "Convert him," they continued. Jeff's pace was picking up, and I wondered how far he was from cumming. In any other situation, I would have been terrified by what was happening. An HIV-positive man was fucking me raw, and was on the verge of cumming in me.

 

"Infect him," the crowd called out. The poppers were strong; even a few minutes later, I was still flying and was craving more poppers, more cock, and most of all, a load in my raw hole. "Fuck him," the crowd called out.

 

Suddenly, the executioner dropped his axe. The heavy iron head hit the ground with a loud thud; I could feel the vibration travel up the fuck bench and hit me in the chest. The crowd grew silent. The only sounds were Jeff's short, sharp breaths announcing just how close to orgasm he was. "It is time," the executioner said. "Kill him."

 

The command pushed Jeff over the edge. "Take my load," he grunted as his cock slammed into my hole. The first warm jet of spooge of his orgasm simultaneously landed deep inside of me. "Take my dirty cum," he moaned, as another jet shot from his cock into my unprotected hole. As his cum filled my hole, I knew there was truly no going back. I had crossed the Rubicon. The die had been cast. I had taken infected cum.

 

I'm sure I had done it before, in a moment of weakness, when I let a random stranger from the bar fuck me. But this time, it was different. I had known exactly who Jeff was. I had known exactly how dangerous it would be to have sex with him. And far from being scared, all I could think about was the next man who would cum in me. His cock would be thick and hard, dripping infected pre-cum, and I would beg for it.

 

I looked up to see the executioner. He was still standing in front of me and his cock was just as hard as ever. Precum was dripping from the head and down his foreskin. "The execution has begun," he said. "Bring out the spice. Satiate your hungers with our willing sacrifice. And let our Dark Lord feed off your perverted and depraved pleasures."

 

"Hail Lucifer," the assembled crowd of men replied, as they moved forward, into the pentagram that I was the center of. "Hail the Dark Lord."

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Guest mspsubmale

firstly...since there is a number "1" at the beginning, i hope that is the indication there will be more chapters....

secondly...would love to join the club this way, too...

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Guest Somebody

Hail Sarah Palin!  I wish I could find a gay Satanic priest to serve.  It would be interesting if the "sacrifice" in this story decided to really devote his life to serving the Dark Lord.  In this process he would:

 

-- Be administered many hard drugs including LSD and Heroin in addition to Meth

-- Engage in various blood sports

-- Be subjected to extreme physical torture

-- Participate in perverse bestiality with various large animals

-- Have bizarre body modifications performed by the coven

-- Learn the joy of a shoulder-deep fisting

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Though I like this story and it's submission theme, i wonder why does hiv have to be associated with Sarah Palin? I know that organized religion has tended to vilify and ostracize the gay community, but the church has no right to hijack our God from us and leave us only with Sarah Palin as an alternative. We should stand up for our belief in our God/their God and they can't take it away from us.  God could have made hiv the vector that binds us together as a community as a positive thing--pun intended. Now that would be a different fictional story line

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