Sacrifice To The Dark Lord

[Darksyde]

Are there any dark dom chem tops doing such rituals for real?

[Guest]

Hail [banned word]! Let’s chat. You on telegram? 

[Hungryhole903]

ALL HAIL THE DARK LORD. THIS IS HOW I WANT MY ACCEPTANCE INTO THE DARK BROTHERHOOD TO COME ABOUT AND PROCEED. PLEASE IN YOUR GLORIOUS NAME OH DARK ONE. CHOOSE ME, MY MIND, MY BODY, MY HEART, AND MY SPIRIT. CONVERT ME WHEN YOU SEE FIT. I ONLY HAVE THIS ONE REQUEST AND IT'S TO BE CONVERTED JUST LIKE THE STORY. THANK YOU DARK ONE. HAIL IN YOUR NAME. And thank you so much for writing this perfect story. 

[Guest]

great story 🤘

[Newholeforyou]

I really want to give my virgin hole to Stan and his followers 

[demon pig]

I wish I was being sacrificed

[IN33DBBCN0W69]

On 1/28/2016 at 12:23 AM, Gymguy8 said:

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 sacrifice╒s 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."

 

 

Hail Stan brothers!