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Sacrifice To The Dark Lord


Gymguy8

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fuckin autocorrect.   'liquid Sarah Palin,' not 'sarah palin.'

don't know why it keeps changing.  's-a-T-a-n.'

There was trouble with some folks who were too into Satanic talk (I don't remember the details). rawTOP must have set that up when we moved to the new software. 

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  • 5 weeks later...
2. Jeff

 

I waited for the very last drop of my cum to drip out of my dick before I pulled out. I needed Tim to get every precious drop of my spooge and with it, as much of my virus as he could. I had been waiting for the chance to fuck Tim for far too long and I didn't want this opportunity to go to waste. It had only been a few months ago that I had found out he barebacked. That he had done it once was all I needed to know: it wasn't a matter of if he would take my poz cock, it was just a careful negotiation of when he would. And now, only six months later, I had just unloaded deep into his unprotected guts.

 

"Thank you," Tim grunted, as my cockhead slipped out of his hole with a barely audible pop. It was slick and shiny. Tim had gotten a dildo Diablo right before I fucked him; the frozen sperm had melted and coated his guts and then my shaft. From the gyrations of his ass and his moans, it was also clear that the tina had also taken effect. 

 

Most ceremonies began with the sacrifice getting the dildo Diablo or the Devil's Cock; a frozen rod of semen collected the men of our congregation. Of course, we made it even better by sprinkling it with a generous amount of crystal methamphetamine. By the time it melted, the sacrifice would be so hungry and needy he would rarely worry about the long-term consequences of his action. This ceremony was no different. It had been easy to tell when the crystal had hit Tim. It had been in the middle of me fucking him, and the high had continued to build for him. Now, he was completely tweaked out and definitely ready for the rest of the solstice celebration. The hot poz men, dirty satanic talk, and unprotected bareback sex would be just what he needed.

 

"My turn," a man said. I turned. Standing next to me was one of my brothers in the Dark Lord. With the black leather mask and the flickering candles, it was hard to tell who it was. But names did not matter. We were all just foot soldiers in the army of the Dark Lord, doing his vital work. I stepped aside, giving the next man access to Tim's raw hole. The stranger quickly lined up his cock, and then sunk it into the sacrifice.

 

Tim grunted in response, a deep masculine sound of pleasure. He looked up, but before he had a chance to turn his head, I stepped in front of him and guided his head down to my cock. "Lick it clean for me," I said. He opened his mouth, and let me push the head of my cock into his warm mouth. "All the way," I said.

 

Telling him to take it all the way was redundant. Tim was still strapped down to the fuck bench, so it was impossible for him to move. But he sucked on my shaft so hard that I was nearly dragged forward. I took a slight step towards him. He had no choice but to swallow me balls-deep, which he did. "Yeah," I moaned, as his warm mouth enveloped my shaft and his tongue lapped up all the juices that had accumulated. "Taste all those loads. All of them infected."

 

"Mmmmmph," Tim said, his mouth full of my cock, and his ass now full of the stranger. Neither of us were using a condom, and both of us were infected by HIV. If Tim was thinking about that, he made no sign of it, arching his back to meet the other guy's shaft, and massaging my dickhead with his throat.

 

Finally, my dick was clean, and my cock was starting to grow soft, exhausted from the first orgasm but not quite ready for the second one yet. "Please?" he said as I pulled my shaft out of his mouth.

 

"Don't worry," I said. "You're going to get plenty more before the night is done."

 

"Good," he said.

 

"How are you feeling?" I asked. The executioner had retreated to his throne, and out of the corner of my eyes, I could see one of the altar boys going down on him. The executioner didn't like us getting too familiar with the victim, but he knew I had recruited Tim. I knelt down so that my face level was with his. Up close, I could see just how tweaked he was.

 

"I don't know. Wonderful. Amazing. But also, I dunno," he said, tailing off. His eyes closed and a look of utter bliss was on his face. His back arched, all the better to accept the stranger's raw cock. He had never even seen this man, and yet, he was letting him fuck him. It was his long-repressed, perverted desires being unleashed by the crystal.

 

"What?" I asked. Seeing him so utterly defenseless against his needs was getting me hard again. He didn't care who was fucking him. No, it was more that he couldn't care who was fucking him. All that was important was that he was getting fucked.

 

"I'm scared. This isn't like me."

 

"But do you want it to be like you?"

 

"Yeah," he said. He opened his eyes again. They were unfocused and distant. He had entered his own world, and given himself over to pleasure. He had given himself to the Dark Lord. "I want to be free. To enjoy everything."

 

"Good. You are giving yourself over to pleasure."

 

"To pleasure," he repeated, dreamily. He closed his eyes again and arched his back. The man behind him obliged, and pounded his ass a bit harder. "It's just, this isn't, this isn't me." He suddenly focused and realized where he was. He pulled off the stranger's cock, but found himself held in place by the thick leather straps.

 

"Relax," I said. I ran my hand over his face, feeling the stubble on his cheek, and my touch had an immediate response. His body slouched and relaxed, but he still allowed the stranger to continue fucking him. "We dosed you with a drug. It's going to be ok. It's going to help you do this."

 

"A drug?" he asked. A smile emerged, as the idea of getting drugged up finally hit him. "Fucking hot," he said. Tim, or rather, the sacrifice, was a lot kinkier than I had thought. This was suddenly starting to get very interesting for me, and my cock was getting hard again.

 

"You," Micah said. Tonight, playing the role of the executioner, Micah had final say on everything. I hoped he had not noticed how hard my cock had gotten. I wanted to get back inside of Tim so badly, and I didn't want Micah interfering, even if it was for the sake of the ceremony. "Is something wrong with the sacrifice?" he asked, loudly.

 

"No, Sir," I said, turning my head to face the executioner. "He is a bit afraid, but nothing he can't handle."

 

"The sacrifice should be afraid. Our Dark Lord takes pleasure from many things and fear is just one of them." I watched Tim's eyes widen; it was hard to tell if it was from fear of the illness or anticipation of the pleasures. "But then, above all, Lucifer is about pleasure." He turned to look directly at Tim, his eyes nearly hidden by the black leather hood he was wearing. "The Dark Lord has so many pleasures. What is your pleasure, sacrifice?"

 

"Cum," Tim said, hardly missing a beat. It was an interesting choice: not cock, the object, or fucking, the action, but cum, the result. "Poz cum." And didn't even pause before getting to the ultimate point: the virus that all of us would share with Tim tonight.

 

"He chooses well," Micah said. He stood up, his massive cock hanging stiffly in front of him. "Congregant, will you satisfy the sacrifice's needs? Make him die so much faster? And, altar boy," he continued, turning to a young man hidden in the crowd. "You may take care of my son's needs." A young man darted out and knelt down in front of me. He carried a silver tray, upon which lay a glass pipe and a torch.

 

Micah was an evil bastard. He knew that the higher all of his flock got, the more loads they would pump into Tim. I looked over Tim's body and into the face of the anonymous man fucking him. He was only the second one. It would be an endless night for Tim. There was a long line of men who would fill Tim up with load after load of infected jizz. "Give the sacrifice a hit as well, my son," Micah said.

 

I nodded in agreement. Micah's tone of voice reminded me of when he had participated in my pozzing. He had been younger, but then, we all had been younger. I don't remember which one of the many men who fucked me Micah was. There were so many, and like Tim, I had been drugged as well. There had been another executioner that night. He was no longer with us. Of course, many of the men from my ceremony were no longer with us. So many had been cut low by the Dark Lord's demon virus and were now celebrating the solstice in his chamber of pleasures.

 

I picked up the glass pipe from the tray and then the torch. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but prior experience suggested that the pipe was loaded with crystal, and it would take a moment or two for it to melt and smoke. I held the torch under the bowl as the light illuminated a small part of the pentagram. Tim looked around, but it was impossible to read his expression. With each thrust from the stranger, his face relaxed, revealing the bliss that he felt.

 

"This is going to be good," I said, as I put the glass cock to my lips and inhaled deeply. As expected, the pipe was loaded and the drugs were pure and strong. I inhaled deeply, feeling the spirit of the Dark Lord fill my lungs and begin to suffuse through my body. I did not partake of the Dark Lord's drugs as often as some did, and it would require only a few hits for me to be under his spell. "Very good," I said, exhaling a small, yet thick cloud.

 

"What?" Tim asked, his eyes glazed over in pleasure from the on-going fuck.

 

"Just enjoy it," I said. I exhaled my hit. My head was momentarily enveloped in the white cloud, but it soon dissipated. As my vision returned, I first saw Tim staring at me, mesmerized by what had just happened. I turned my head to Micah. He was still sitting in the executioner's chair, but he nodded at me and pushed the altar boy off his erection. 

 

Micah stood up. The altar boy shuffled backwards as quickly as he could to avoid toppling over backwards. "Let us all partake in the Dark Lord's addictions," he announced. There was a sudden flurry of activity in the crowd of men, as the altar boys rushed to supply all of the men with the glass pipes and torches. Micah's boy got up quickly, and quickly returned with the necessary goods. 

 

The silver platter matched the chrome bars on the boy's chastity cage. It was good that the altar boys dosed up before the ceremony began; with all of the horny men, their cocks would be soon straining against the restraints. It was one of the few times that crystal dick was an advantage. Micah took the pipe and torch, and began his hit. I turned back to Tim, and began another hit for myself.

 

This one was quicker; the pipe was still warm and it was easier to get a lungful of the potent drug. This time, when I exhaled, I blew it out right into Tim's face. He tried to inhale some of it, but it was too weak for him to get any effect. "Patience, sacrifice," I said. "You'll get a hit soon enough."

 

Around me, the men were all hitting their pipes and shotgunning it to each other. As they did so, I could feel the dark sexual energy rise and saw the room grow cloudy from the large hits they were all doing. "It's going to be a good night," I said to Tim, exhaling my own hit right in his face. "You want some?" I asked.

 

He nodded. "Please," he murmured. His body was still being pummeled by the anonymous man fucking him, and his breaths were all too often interrupted by a gasp of pleasure as the man found a tender, sensitive spot.

 

I looked over Tim's shoulder at the stranger fucking him. He was smiling, and gave me a thumbs up. "The man has a gift for you first," I said.

 

"Please," Tim murmured again. The thrusts from the stranger grew even more strong and intense, as he neared orgasm. "I want it." Tim gasped.

 

"Fuck yeah," the stranger grunted, slamming his cock into Tim and holding it there. "Fucking take my load." He moaned as his body shook with the intensity of his orgasm. "Fucking take my toxic cum."

 

Tim moaned in reply, his face blissed-out and joyous with the pleasure of taking another load. "That's load number two for you," I said. "But I know there are plenty more for you."

 

"I hope so," Tim said. The unknown man's body jerked and spasmed a few more times as his balls squeezed out some more cum. He took a moment to catch his breath, and then pulled out. "Fuck," Tim said; I couldn't tell if it was from the stranger's quick movements or the sudden shock of no longer having a cock in his ass.

 

If it was the latter, Tim did not have to wait long. Almost as soon as the stranger stepped away, another one took his place. Again, the dim light and a tight-fitting hood made it hard to recognize him. But once he moved, I recognized the tattoo on his chest, a pistol pointed at his heart. I knew him; we had played around. But as was the custom in our church, I would not acknowledge him as anything other than a brother in Lucifer during the Solstice execution. "Another one for you," I said. Pistol grabbed his stiff cock and aligned it with Tim's ass.

 

"Please," Tim grunted. Pistol slid into him, not pausing for Tim to even get used to his thick shaft. Tim looked at me, and then his eyes darted to the glass pipe I was holding. "Please?" he asked again. The crystal was hitting him hard, and he was turning into a needy bottom. I lit the torch and held it under the bowl. He was going to get even more tweaked out and his needs would only grow.

 

"Of course," I said. "It's your last meal, as it were. You can have anything you want." A bit of smoke was starting to curl out of the bowl of the pipe. I stuck the pipe into Tim's mouth. "Inhale, sacrifice. Slowly and deeply."

 

Watching Tim hit the pipe, I wondered if he had ever smoked tina before. He worked the pipe like an expert, draining the bowl and letting it refill. His lung capacity was impressive; each time I thought he had hit his limit, he just paused and then continued. Finally he nodded, and I pulled the pipe out. It was still hot and smoking, so I did a quick hit myself. 

 

Not until I exhaled did he dare exhale his hit. Once more, we were engulfed in the thick cloud, momentarily lost in Lucifer's mysterious kingdom. But the clouds drifted to the ground, and we were back in the physical world. Pistol was now pounding Tim's ass hard, the sweat glistening on his chest. It would not be long before his pistol went off, shooting its deadly bullets into Tim's body.

 

"Another one," I said. Pistol slowed down his attack on Tim's ass as I put the pipe back in the sacrifice's mouth. Even if Tim wanted to protest, he was far too tweaked to string the necessary words together. But, it was clear from his face he was now in the Dark Lord's playground and he never wanted to leave. I held the torch under the bowl. It quickly started to crackle. "Do it," I said. 

 

Tim inhaled. I waited for him, until he could no longer inhale any longer, and then took the pipe away from him. I looked up at the executioner. Micah slowly nodded his head back and forth. I was disappointed; I wanted another hit from the pipe. I wanted to be closer to Lucifer and his world of pleasure. But, as the sacrifice's attendant, I had other duties tonight. At midnight, I would be released and able to join in the pleasures. 

 

No longer needing to be concerned about the glass pipe, Pistol picked up the pace again. His hips hit the sacrifice's ass, as his cock forced its way into Tim's body. "Oh fuck," he grunted, and his rhythm sped up further. "Oh fuck," he grunted again, and slammed his cock into Tim. This time, he held his cock in place and grunted one more time. This was the sound of an animal, deep, visceral, and almost scary. It was the sound of a man reaching orgasm and filling another man with his sperm.

 

"Please," Tim whispered, only audible to the two of us. Pistol pulled out, then shoved it back in as his hard cock shot spurted more cum into Tim's tender hole.

 

"Another bullet in our sacrifice," Micah said. The executioner had returned to the throne and the altar boy was once more between his legs. "And there are so many more to come." Pistol grunted a few more times, then pulled his cock out of Tim. 

 

Tim's face screwed up in a combination of agony and despair. He clearly wanted to be fucked more and to feel more men cum in him, but was also aware of how sore his ass already was, even as the ceremony was just starting. But he didn't have long to wonder. From the crowd, another man stepped forward to take his place between Tim's legs.

 

I recognized Nash immediately. His skin was ebony black and almost absorbed what little light was falling on him. His black skin reminded me of the Dark Lord's own complexion; perhaps more so than any other member of the congregation, he was Lucifer's perfect ambassador to the earthly plane. He was tall and muscular, with a long, thick cock. There was some resistance when he first asked to join our congregation, but his generous endowment and relentless approach to fucking more than overcame any protests.

 

As he stepped up to Tim, I could see his fat shaft sticking out straight. It was big enough that even fully erect, it still hung down slightly. As Nash lined up his dick with Tim's hole, he licked his lips, anticipating the warm wetness that would soon surround his manhood. Nash reached down and pulled Tim's ass cheeks apart just to make room for his thickness. 

 

Tim reacted to the touch with a moan of pleasure. I wondered if Tim would have reacted the same way if he had seen just how big Nash's cock was. The first time Nash had fucked me, I was amazed there was enough space in my guts for him to enter, and Tim was a bit smaller than I was. It was a good thing that Tim was still restrained. It would make the inevitable assault more surprising, but not being able to see Nash's endowment would reduce Tim's anxiety. But, after all of the crystal Tim had done, it wasn't clear if Tim was capable of being scared of anything.

 

"Another one for you," I said. Nash's cockhead was pressed up against Tim's hole. Although Tim had opened up a lot from the three of us who had already fucked him, it would still be a tight fit for Nash. 

 

"Please," Tim grunted. "More."

 

I didn't know if Nash heard Tim. Around me, men were sucking down on the glass pipe. I could see the torches flicker on and off as the men did their hits. As the crystal hit them, they started to suck on each other's cocks; in addition to the sounds of the glass pipes, I heard the soft moans and gentle licking of the men pleasuring each other. Nash had been doing the same, hitting the pipe, and getting his cock nursed to hardness. Now, he was ready to fuck. Tim's request was unimportant to Nash. He just pushed his thick head against Tim's hole, and forced his way into the man.

 

"Oh fuck," Tim said, as he realized just how thick Nash was. I smiled. This was what Tim had signed up for: getting fucked by some of the biggest cocks and the meanest men. Pistol didn't stop, Nash would not stop, nor would any of the other men stop. Tim whimpered a bit and his body tensed up as Nash pushed further into his hole. But Nash didn't stop. He was slowly thrusting in and out, each stroke pushing him deeper into Tim. "Dear God," Tim said.

 

"God abandoned you the moment you climbed on to the altar," I said. "Or maybe you abandoned him. The Dark Lord is your salvation now."

 

"It's so fucking big," he said. I guessed that Nash had barely gotten half into Tim. "So fucking big." I grabbed the bottle of poppers and held it under his nose. He inhaled deeply, like it was the only thing that could save him. I let take as much as he needed, holding the bottle under his nose even after he nodded that he was good. Nash had only begun the process of fucking. "Can I..." Tim started, and then trailed off. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

 

"Of course," I said. Nash was exploring new territory in Tim's guts and the only lube was what little pre-cum Nash was dripping into the man. Tim didn't need any more crystal; most of what he was feeling was from the booty bump and the last few hits had barely taken full effect. But, the rite of sucking on the glass cock would calm and center him and help him accept Nash's long shaft. 

 

I, on the other hand, had only just begun. "Let me get it started for you," I said. I stuck the pipe in my mouth and lit the torch. The pale blue flame barely added any light to the room, but it was just enough to see Tim's suffering in perfect detail. Nash was almost all the way in him, and was starting to seriously fuck the man. 

 

The fat black cockhead was rubbing all of the accumulated cum into Tim's body. My cum. Pistol's cum. The Dark Lord's virus was in Tim's blood now, and it would soon take root and grow in him. The fuck flu would be an unpleasant time for Tim, but we would be there for him, holding him closely and reminding him that his ordeal was only temporary before he was released into the pleasure of the Dark Lord. 

 

Thinking about Tim getting infected and getting sick made my cock stir again. I wanted to get back inside of the sacrifice and give him more of my deadly seed. I wanted him to feel the death that surged through my veins and was eating up my body. I took a long hit from the pipe and let the drugs fill my lungs. I could feel the presence of the Dark Lord in me, releasing me from the proprieties of the culture I grew up and into black and evil society of pleasure. I was Lucifer's foot soldier, and tonight, it was my job to bring him another offering.

 

"Here," I said, taking the pipe from my mouth and sticking it into Tim's. Nash slammed his cock into the sacrifice's body hard enough to move the altar to sex a bit. "You're going to need this tonight."

 

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  • 3 weeks later...
  • 2 months later...

3. Micah

 

Over the noise of the assembled men, the sounds of flesh against flesh, the quiet undertones of sexual attraction, and the hiss of the torches, a church bell tolled for midnight. I wondered if the old Catholic priest knew what was happening just around the corner from his church. In front of me, the sacrifice was still tied down to the altar with one congregant's cock deep in his ass and another congregant's cock forced in his throat.

 

Did the priest know how it was impossible for his God to exist without my Dark Lord? A one-sided coin was impossibility; so was light without dark, happiness without suffering, and duty without pleasure. Did the priest know the truth about his Savior? How Jesus had known the Dark Lord? How Jesus had followed God's commandments of duty, just as much as he had worshipped my Dark Lord's pleasures?

 

Tonight, pleasures had certainly been had. The sacrifice had been fucked for nearly four hours now. If my count was correct, he had taken seventeen loads from my congregants. Powered by the drugs, by Lucifer's spirit, by their own animal urges, my congregants showed no sign of slowing down. In addition, every single one of their loads was poisoned with the Dark Lord's virus.

 

As my congregants had repeatedly fucked the sacrifice, I had relaxed in the throne at the front of the church. I watched the execution unfold and the altar boys made sure that I was well taken care of. The glass cock was always full and my cock was always hard.

 

Some of the new altar boys would gag on the size of my shaft; most of them quickly learned how to accommodate my size. Some others, well, they learned how resistance to my desires was not an option. One of the newer altar boys had to be taken back to the labyrinth, and was given a training session on the finer points of cocksucking. He returned an hour later, with bruises on his back and a mouth spreader ensuring he was always available to the members of the congregation. It was especially pleasurable to see the tears still drying on his cheeks, a visible sign of his devotion to the path of the Dark Lord.

 

Finally, the last of the congregants grunted in pleasure. The spasms of his body showed that he was injecting the sacrifice with his poisonous semen. As he withdrew, Jeff stood up from his position by the sacrifice. "My father," he said.

 

"Yes, my son," I replied. I took the glass pipe from where it lay beside my throne. I knew what he was going to announce, and what I was going to need to do.

 

"The congregation has anointed the sacrifice with the seed of their loins and the virus of the Dark Lord. He is now yours to finish."

 

"You have done well, my son," I said, standing up from the throne. "You all have made the Dark Lord very happy with your efforts. It is time for you to celebrate the night. Give yourself over to the pleasure of our Devil God."

 

"Amen," the congregation uttered, as they all walked towards the back of the nave, past the sacrificial altar, past my throne. They would enter the labyrinth in the back, and celebrate for the rest of the night. Their balls were still full of cum, their asses ready for sex. It didn't take long before it was just four of us: an altar boy, Jeff, myself, and the sacrifice.

 

"I give you the sacrifice. May the Dark Lord be merciful to him, even as you are not," Jeff said. He walked to the back and joined the other men. I could hear the grunts of pleasure, the moans of agony rising from the orgy that was beginning. The sacrifice raised his head, just enough to see me.

 

I smiled at him, then paused long enough to take one long hit from the pipe. Even though I had been smoking most of the night, I still felt the effect of the drugs on me, pushing me a little closer to Lucifer and his world of depraved pleasures. I held the hit for as long as I could, then exhaled. The sacrifice smiled, and I could sense the hunger in his soul for more. "Come," I said to the altar boy. "Bring the silver charger."

 

The young boy picked up a small silver plate. On it was four shards of crystal, each fairly large. He followed me as I descended to stand in front of the sacrifice. The drugs were hitting me hard, and my cock was throbbing now. I needed to get inside the bottom's hole and feel all of the cum that he had accumulated. But the ritual came first. "Tears of Lucifer," I said, motioning to the plate the altar boy held. "You know what most people get wrong about my Dark Lord?"

 

The sacrifice shook his head.

 

"The Dark Lord. Everyone thinks he is about pain and suffering. But he is not. He's about pleasure. Only pleasure. Pleasure unencumbered by any responsibility or duties." I paused for a moment. "That's why I am not afraid of joining him."

 

"Joining him?" the sacrifice said.

 

I raised the heavy leather hood up just enough to expose the deep purple spot on my chest. The sacrifice's eyes were just barely able to focus on it. "Yeah," I said. "It's what you think it is." The sacrifice lowered his head again, already tired from the ordeal. "The Vikings understood the Dark Lord best. They called him Loki, the trickster. He's out for pleasure." He looked up at me once more. His hunger was painfully clear on his face. Getting fucked by seventeen men was barely enough to satisfy him. He needed more. He needed more drugs, more fucking, and most of all, more of our deadly semen.

 

He nodded. He was high enough that I didn't know if he even understood what I was saying. But, tonight, it hardly mattered. All that was important was that he was here and that he was open to everything that we had already put inside of him. Plus, he was ready for more. "The tears. It clears the mind. It frees the body. And one of these is for you."

 

The altar boy knelt down, holding the platter in front of the sacrifice. "Which one do you want?" I asked. The young man tried to pull his hand away from the altar to point, but remembered that he was still restrained.

 

"The one on the right," he said, before closing his eyes again. It was the largest one on the platter.

 

"You choose well," I said. I motioned for the altar boy to stand. He had done this ritual once before and knew what he had to do. He stood behind the sacrifice, and waited for me. Slowly, I joined him, and took the long, thin shard from the platter. "This goes into you. Into your ass, where it can melt in the pool of toxic semen you have accumulated."

 

"I understand," the sacrifice said. "It is not my place to protest anything you choose to do to me. Everything is in honor of the Dark Lord."

 

I smiled. Sometimes the sacrifices protested, especially after so many men had fucked them. Their asses were sore and they were having second thoughts about pledging themselves to the Dark Lord's army. But this one knew what he was getting himself into. I took the shard from the platter. It was larger and heavier than at first glance. I hoped that the sacrifice would be able to endure the experience.

 

"Ready, sacrifice?" I asked him. It was a formality; the only answer I expected from him was an affirmative yes.

 

"Yes, my master," he said. His voice was flat and neutral. He had been through an ordeal over the past few hours, and emotion was far away. With my free hand, I spread his ass cheeks apart, exposing his well-fucked hole. It was dripping cum, and was slowly pulsing with his every heartbeat. The members of my congregation had opened him up. Putting a small shard of tina into him was going to be easy. I pinched the shard between my thumb and forefinger, and pushed into him.

 

He grunted, but his ass offered only the slightest resistance to me. I pressed in, past my first knuckle, then the second knuckle. "Ugh," he said, but remained still. Finally, I had my fingers all the way in him. I released the shard, feeling it float in the pools of thick cum still in his ass. I slowly pulled out, making sure all of the toxic fluids and drugs stayed inside of him. "You're fucked, sacrifice," I said, as I massaged his hole, getting it to close up and hold all of the mancum inside. "Totally fucked."

 

"I know, my master," he said.

 

"For the rest of the night," I started. "Everything and anything good in your world is going to come from my cock. You keep me happy. I'll keep the dark lord happy, and if you are lucky, he may cry a few more tears of joy to keep you happy." My cock was throbbing. It was hard to keep from plunging into his ass, and feel all that cum inside of him. But there were other things to do first.

 

I turned to the altar boy. "You may join the others in the solstice orgy," I said. "Let them share their virus with you. Now, it is time for me to complete the execution."

 

"I understand," the altar boy said. He placed the platter on the ground, and backed away from me quickly. There was a sense of fear as he stepped away, as if he was seeing my power for the very first time. It only made my cock harder and drip more. Once outside the pentagram, he turned and walked quickly to the labyrinth in the back. I was now alone with the sacrifice. He was still tied down to the altar, his ass and mouth still exposed for me, making him totally defenseless against anything I had planned.

 

"You know about the Last Supper, don't you?" I asked. "The truth?"

 

"I don't know. No," he said. I knelt down behind him, and spread his cheeks apart again. His hole was right there, a bit of cum dripping out of it.

 

"The paintings and stories are all wrong. It wasn't a dinner." I pressed my face into his crack, inhaling deeply of the sweat and cum. My cock was throbbing, desperate to get inside of the sacrifice. "What really happened has been suppressed and forgotten. It was more of an orgy." I stuck my tongue out and teased his hole. It was a mixture of salty sweat, slightly sweet cum, and the bitter tang of the crystal. "It's our job to remember what happened. To make sure the real memory of Jesus is maintained."

 

"Oh?" I knew it was hard for the sacrifice to follow anything I said. His mind was racing off in a million directions, all of then involving pleasure. As best he could while tied up, he pressed his ass back against my goatee, eager for any tiny bit of stimulation. For me, it was time to stop talking theology, and start the final part of the ritual.

 

"I'm going to die," I said. "There are no more drugs for me. It's now just a matter of time." I stood up, and stroked my cock. It was still hard. "But, before I die, I'm going to pass on the Dark Lord's gift to me. It will become your gift and a gift that you will need to share with others. As many as you can."

 

"I will, my master." He paused for a moment. "My executioner." His back arched as he presented his ass to me. "Please," he said, his words starting to slur as he disappeared into a drug-fueled fantasy.

 

"Of course, my son." I stood behind him, and pulled back my foreskin to expose my swollen cockhead. I pressed the head against his hole, coating it the accumulated lube and cum. "Ready for my cock? My deadly cock?"

 

"Please," he said again. "Let me serve Lucifer." I lined my cock up with his hole, and pressed against him. There was no resistance at all; over the course of the night, his ass had been completely opened up. It was a rare feeling, to find a man so open and so accepting that there was not even the barest hint of a struggle against an invading cock. I wanted to savor that feeling of control and domination, when my dick first entered a man, but my cock had other ideas. It practically pulled itself into the sacrifice's body, navigating through the pools of dirty cum into order to seek out barely explored depths where it's own deadly load would find fertile soil. "Fuck me. Kill me."

 

"You are already dead," I said. He was warm and comfortable, all the accumulated spooge lubricating my small thrusts into him. I allowed myself to pull out, just to get the pleasure of sinking all the way back into him. The sacrifice was not the only one for whom the drugs had taken ahold of. I had been smoking from the glass pipe all evening and my own depraved sexual needs had been barely satiated by the oral service provided by the altar boys. Now, there was only one thought running through my mind: I needed to defile this man's body. All I could focus on was the pleasure of adding another load of virus-laden cum to his growing collection. "You were dead the moment you walked into the temple."

 

The sacrifice slumped slightly; his body no longer quite as taut against the restraints of the altar. "I know," he said. His voice was full of defeat as the full enormity of what he had done soaked into his drug-addled mind. The thought made my cock twitch. Another bolus of pre-cum dripped from my dickhead into his body. It was full of the Devil's virus and it would soon be part of the sacrifice's very genetic code. "I know," he repeated.

 

As much as I wanted to cum right then and complete the ceremony, I had to make it last. It was my responsibility as the executioner to complete the sentence, to make sure that the sacrifice had no chance of reprieve. I continued to thrust in and out of his hole. Occasionally, I had to reach down to scoop up the spooge that had dripped out of him. I carefully pressed it back into the hole. There was so much of the thick, slippery fluid it was hard to imagine that it would eventually all be absorbed. But it would, and the contribution from the many men would change the sacrifices life forever.

 

Lost in the beautiful haze of the crystal fog, I continued to pound at the sacrifice's hole. Time was no longer important; the crystal made sure of that and the task would take as long as it had to. I don't know if it was just a few minutes or a few hours, but eventually, the sacrifice's hole was no longer dripping spooge. "Please?" he said, a plaintive cry for mercy.

 

I paused for a moment with my cock buried in his warm hole. The last thing I wanted to do was to stop fucking the sacrifice. My dick was still rock hard and my balls were full of toxic fluid. "I haven't cum yet," I said.

 

"I know," he said. "I want you to cum in me."

 

"Of course you do," I said. I pulled my cock almost all the way out, leaving just the very tip of it inside of him.

 

"Please," he said again. He had gotten what he had wanted, my cock no longer balls-deep inside of him, only to discover that the discomfort me fucking him caused was also the source of all of his pleasure. "I need it."

 

"I know. We all need it." I pulled all the way out, my shaft glistening with the last few drops of sperm still in the sacrifice's hole. I pushed back into him, feeling his hole wrap around my cock. It was hot from the fucking and I briefly felt sorry for him. Getting fucked was now agony, each stroke of my cock a burning hot poker in his ass. But not getting fucked was also agony for the sacrifice. It was an utter lack of connection and nothing to ground him to another human.

 

My cock pulsed as I watched the struggle between pain and pleasure play out as the sacrifice grappled against the restraints holding him to the altar. He would first fight them, trying to escape the relentless onslaught of my dick. The sacrifice would then relax and embrace the thick leather bands holding him in place. The restraints let him accept my cock and allowed me to fuck him like the Dark Lord demanded.

 

The brief break, watching the sacrifice fuck himself on my dick helped to re-energize me. It reminded me of my purpose that night and why I had dedicated my life to the Dark Lord. I was there to kill this young man, to kill him by infecting him with a deadly virus, and then to have the pleasure of watching him waste away and die. I pulled my cock out and slammed it back into him. He grunted and moaned which was what I wanted to hear. "Please," he said. "The straps."

 

With my dick comfortably lodged deep in his hole, I paused for a moment to inspect the sacrifice. The leather straps securing him to the altar were necessarily tight, biting into his skin. I had heard stories of the early days, before the altar had been built, when sacrifices would flee the ceremony, before the execution had been completed. The restraints ensured that any second thoughts were not an issue. I ran my finger along the edge of a strap across the victim's back. His body tensed up and he grunted. "Ouch," he said.

 

"You will take my load," I said. "No matter what."

 

"I know. I want it," the sacrifice said. "It just hurts."

 

"Death is always painful." I repeated my action, feeling how hot his skin was. His ass clenched around my cock, as he struggled to maintain his composure. "If I undo the straps, you aren't going to try anything, are you?"

 

"No my master," he said. The curtain blocking access to the labyrinth rustled, and we both looked up. An altar boy appeared. He was young and blond, with the blank expression of a tweaker.

 

"Do you need anything, Sir?" he asked me. His timing was perfect.

 

"Help me with the sacrifice," I said. "It is time to release him from the earthly bonds."

 

"Of course, Sir." I finally pulled my cock out of the sacrifice; I immediately missed the warmth of his hole and the comforting power of dominating him. The altar boy knew what to do, taking position across from me. Quickly, we undid the leather straps.

 

"Help him up," I said, retiring back to the throne of the high priest. My cock was still erect and a bead of pre-cum was forming at the tip. I wanted to get back inside of the sacrifice and feel my toxic juices drip into him. The altar boy helped the sacrifice up from the altar. It was a slow process. The sacrifice was obviously tired and sore from the unnatural position, and he had barely moved in many hours.

 

"Get up," the altar boy encouraged him, holding on to his arm and pulling. The sacrifice suddenly recoiled with a sharp yelp. The altar boy had grabbed him on his wrist, right where the straps had held him in place. But, eventually, the condemned man stood, and took halting steps towards me. "Please," the altar boy begged. He knew that if I were to get angry, he would pay the price for the sacrifice's weaknesses.

 

Finally, the sacrifice was standing in front of me. He was shaking, but it was hard to tell if that was from the uncomfortable position he had been forced into, the long hours of getting fucked, or all the drugs that had been forced on him. It didn't matter. The Dark Lord could rejoice in any and all forms of agony we would subject the sacrifice to. "Show me your wrists," I told the man. Slowly, he held his hands out. The bright red stripes from the restraints were obvious, even in the dimly lit room.

 

I ran my finger over my cockhead, collecting the slippery pre-cum, and pushing back my foreskin. I reached out and rubbed it into the raw skin. "Owww," the sacrifice grunted. "It burns."

 

"It should," I said. "It is what the Dark Lord wants for you tonight." He nodded. I wondered how sore his throat was, after so many hours of sucking cock. "Kneel," I said. The sacrifice fought the rebellion in his muscles and slowly dropped to his knees in front of me. "Suck," I said, grabbing the base of my cock.

 

He opened his mouth and took the head of my dick. His tongue was warm and wet against my cockhead. It wasn't as good as his hole, but it was not bad. The sacrifice was still shaking, even down on his knees. The subtle movement of his head and his mouth served to further stimulate me. The sacrifice then ran his tongue along my foreskin, and my dick throbbed, dripping more of the deadly pre-cum into his body. I couldn't hold out any longer.

 

I pulled his head off my shaft. "Time for you to take it up the ass again, sacrifice." He stared at me, his eyes glassy and uncomprehending of what was happening. I smiled, eagerly anticipating the warmth of his tender ass and the implicit permission to breed him with my toxic loads. "Sit on it," I said. I spread my legs, exposing my thick, hard shaft and swollen balls. I needed release, and I needed it soon.

 

The sacrifice wasted no time in mounting my cock. His hole was still open and accepting, and he did not hesitate to take the entire length. "Oh fuck," he moaned.

 

"Take it," I murmured into his ear. "Make the Dark Lord happy with your death. Enjoy your execution." I said a silent prayer to Lucifer, commending the poor man's soul to his eternal pleasure. The prayer was quickly answered as deep in the sacrifice's body, my cock got even longer and harder. "Take every drop of my poison."

 

"I'm scared," he said. Through the mask, I could stare into his eyes without him seeing me. There were tears there. It was the first sign of him breaking down, the first piece of doubt about his actions tonight. Of course, it was far too late for him. The damage had already been done and the virus had been injected into him.

 

"What are you afraid of? The pleasure that awaits you in the lap of the Dark Lord?" He tried to make sense of the words, but the drugs were too much for him. Instead, he nodded in dumb agreement. "There is nothing holding you back. No more fear. No more uncertainty. No more limits." My cock was throbbing and my balls were tight against my body. Even if I had wanted to, it was going to be impossible to hold off much longer.

 

"Are you afraid?" he asked me. He lifted up the edge of the executioner's hood I was wearing, just enough to expose the red lesion on my chest. "Of the future."

 

I shook my head side to side. "No," I said. "There is no fear." I slammed my cock into him, grabbing his hip to hold him in place. "Only pleasure." I pulled out, and thrust into him again. "Only pleasure," I gasped. My cock had decided it had had enough, and the familiar tingle at the tip of my dickhead had grown. I was right at the edge of cumming.

 

"Please?" the sacrifice asked. It was the push I needed. My hips bucked once more, landing my cock as deep as I had ever been in the poor man's ass. I had a brief moment of perfect clarity, as my balls clenched and my dick throbbed. I could visualize the bolus of cum as it traveled the length of my shaft and then erupted in the sacrifice's body.

 

"Take it," I grunted. "Take Lucifer's cum. Take his virus." I gasped, and another volley of virus-laden sperm shot out. The sacrifice squeezed his ass and ensured that the cum would stay in him until his body absorbed it. "Die, faggot," I said. Together with my brothers in Sätan, we had infected this hapless man, and he would soon be just as sick and diseased as we were.

 

The sacrifice could feel my dick throb and pump him full of cum. "Please," he repeated again. "Please."

 

"Take my AIDS jizz," I said. "Fucking take my toxic loads."

 

"Please," he repeated. No matter how many loads he got tonight, no matter how many strains of the disease he got, it would never be enough to satisfy him. "Please kill me."

 

"Dirty fucking fag. Taking all those loads today. Letting all those contaminated men breed your hole." My cock was still pumping out its own blighted juice into him, draining my balls. "Taking my virus."

 

"Please," he said again. He was no longer a lost and confused boy. He knew what he needed. He needed to die, and the only way he knew was to get infected with the plague killing us all. If it was not me who did it, it would be another member of our condemned tribe. "Please."

 

"You have it," I said, as the last few drops of my sperm leaked out of my cock and into the sacrifice's body. "Prepare for your agonizing death."

 

He rode my cock for a few seconds longer, trying, vainly, to milk out a few more drops of my toxin. But my balls were drained, and my cock was exquisitely sensitive in the post-orgasmic bliss. "Thank you," he said, as he relaxed, still impaled on my still-hard cock. "Thank you."

 

 

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"The Dark Lord. Everyone thinks he is about pain and suffering. But he is not. He's about pleasure. Only pleasure. Pleasure unencumbered by any responsibility or duties." 

This is why 999 is so fukkin hot for me. It's all about enjoying the pleasures of poz sex with no apologies, fears or regrets - only pleasure.

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