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Brotherhood of the Bug


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Brotherhood of the Bug

I. Initiation

The young man felt himself being led down a winding stairway, flanked by two powerfully built men. His sinewy arms were shackled behind his back and the deep hood of an enveloping robe obscured his sight. Though the garment was of a thick, rough material, he shivered. His memory of what had led to the current chain of events was vague, but he felt a mixture of terror, excitement, and a powerful, animal arousal.

Reaching the bottom, he heard the creak of a heavy set of doors. As the three stepped through, his companions pulled the hood off his face and head, and he felt a light, dank breeze touch his face. His eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom and he perceived a vast, low room of rough-hewn stone. He imagined it resembled the crypt of a medieval church, though at his young age he had seen little of the world. Thick stone pillars held flickering torches, the dark smudges on the arched ceiling above attesting to countless stories, if only these massive walls could tell them.

He was led toward the other end of the room, where a raised altar of polished wood stood on a stone platform. Here the resemblance to a house of worship was unmistakable. The men turned him around to face the chamber, just in time to observe two columns of dark-robed men emerging from doorways at either end of the back, proceeding slowly and forming semicircular lines at either side. As they filed in, their voices in unison gave rise to a deep and vaguely disturbing chant in some unknown language, like the Gregorian chant of medieval monks. Now the two guards firmly turned the Pledge back toward the altar, forcing him to kneel. From the gloom behind, an imposing man of at least six-feet-five emerged, cloaked and hooded in a robe similar to the Pledge’s but with a cord of gold where the boy’s was a simple white. This, he recognized, was the High Priest. He trembled but simultaneously felt a rush of blood to his groin.

The Priest began the ceremony, posing to the Pledge a series of questions to establish that he was serious in his desire to join the Brotherhood and aware that this was an irreversible step of the deepest significance, one that would place upon him a heavy responsibility to carry on the traditions and values of the clan.

When the Pledge had answered "I do" to each solemn oath, the Priest produced a heavy coffer of wood and gold, richly adorned with mysterious images and inscrutable runes. He lifted the lid to reveal an interior lined with dark velvet. Nestled inside was an Oraquick instant HIV test.

The Priest lifted the swab from the sacred Coffer and held it toward the assembled Brothers, then downward toward the floor, asking the blessing of the Dark Lord. Then the two guards immobilized the Initiate's face and forced his mouth open. The Priest inserted the swab and vigorously rubbed it around the back of the gagging young man’s throat. Again he held the swab aloft and then downward, uttering an occult prayer for the desired results. It was placed in a vial and the lid closed for the prescribed waiting time. A thick, ornate hourglass was placed on the altar and turned. While the grains of sand sifted down, the Initiate was occupied.

The two guards opened the fronts of their robes, revealing rippling abs and cocks of supernatural proportion. The Initiate's mouth was held open once again as these colossal spears of flesh were forced repeatedly down his throat, one after the other. At times he was compelled to swallow them both together, as the Brothers aligned their shafts, a symbolic Union of their flesh just as they are united in the Spirit and Blood. The young man’s mouth and throat were forced open wider than ever and he gagged and struggled. But the two Brothers held him down relentlessly. Eventually their robes were cast off, revealing torsos of magnificent, nigh on terrifying musculature.

There was clearly no sense struggling and the Pledge resigned himself, barely staying conscious by gasping for whatever small breaths he could take between the ten-inch strokes. The hourglass proceeded... agonizingly slowly. The Brothers continued their chant. It was growing in volume and urgency.

Finally the last grains of sand dropped. Twenty minutes, the anointed time, had passed. The Pledge was released, the flesh that had choked his throat withdrawn. He was allowed to recover enough to fix his attention on the High Priest, who raised the lid of the coffer and retrieved the sacred Staff. He examined it first, and a small, knowing smile showed on his face.

Then he showed it to the Pledge. A single blue line. Negative. Next the two Guards, as witnesses, examined the result, affirming their acknowledgment with a low utterance in the ritual tongue. The Priest held the Staff aloft, and one final question was posed to the Initiate.

"This, O Pledge, represents the final evidence of Thy former self. Dost Thou now freely and willingly, knowing there is henceforth no retreat, no regret, offer up this, Thy health and youth, the status so coveted by mortal Mankind, in exchange for full Manhood and entry into the dark Brotherhood?"

"I do," the Pledge muttered.

The Priest then offered the Staff in sacrifice to the Dark Gods -- holding it, of course, not aloft but downward, toward the unfathomable Depths. The chanting had reached a crescendo of intensity, vibrating deep in the gut and soul of the Initiate. He almost sensed that he could understand the strange tongue:

"The hour has come. The bridge has been crossed. There is no returning now. Bid Thy farewell to the land of the mortals. Thou art summoned to take Thy place among Men, carrying the burdens but also tasting the unimagined freedoms that pertain thereto."

At this point there was a rustle as the Brothers began to unfasten their robes. Revealed were torso after torso, groin after groin, of magnificent, rippling masculine beauty, shining in the torchlight. The manhoods of each began to stir, rising to their glory, each pumped full of the blood that carried the coveted viral power that it was now time to share. 

The two Guards roughly grabbed the Initiate's robe and rent it as it was stripped from his body. Fear had risen in his throat and he felt an instant regret. What have I done?? he cried inside.

The Priest, sensing what was happening, gave a gesture ordering the Guards to muscle the Pledge down, his struggles seeming ever more wretched and impotent -- the pathetic last struggles of the boy that was about to die.

The Brothers began to approach and form lines, pacing in unison toward the altar. Their glorious shafts had reached their pulsing, turgid apex, in full worship posture -- the gleaming pre-cum, like holy water, consecrated to the dark Baptism that was nigh. The Initiate was roughly bent over the altar, his youthful buttocks exposed and vulnerable. As the chant reached an almost unbearable volume and intensity, the Initiation began…

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Hey guys, thanks for the encouragement. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to post subsequent chapters -- just as comments on this thread? Anyway, here goes:

II. The Bestowing

Hours and hours, deep into the night, the Brothers performed their sacred duty. Muscles heaved, sweat poured, solemn chants mixed with animal grunts, as erection after pulsing erection glided easily into the Initiate’s opening, now slick with sacred semen. Many a man delivered his life-giving load in just a few thrusts, but some, understandably, drew out their pleasure – savoring the delicious hope that, against the odds, their own strain would win the urgent race among the viruses now coursing through the boy’s bloodstream, jostling to be the one to change his destiny. If the extended lovemaking reached the point of self-indulgence, the High Priest would gently pat the top’s jackhammering hindquarters, signaling him it was time to complete his devotions. In those cases nary a split second would elapse before the copulating Brother released his Gift, shuddering in joy and emitting a cry of praise that rang in the gathered men’s ears like a hymn of our Faith.

The young Pledge grimaced and at times thrashed, but the implacable Guards held him immobile, face-down against the altar. They did not use shackles, but rather on occasion would free one of the captive’s hands and compel him, while being fucked by one man, to stroke and suck the cock of the next, preparing him for the task at hand. (Truth be told, after many hours, some of the Brothers’ rigid members had flagged. There was no shame in needing some stimulation before performing their service at the young man’s reddened, pulsating buttocks. For indeed the dutiful congregants were patiently awaiting by the dozen their turn at the head – or should we say rear – of the line.)

Yet every brotherly cock, as it took its place at the altar, instantly regained its maximum, marble-hewn magnificence – even those that during the long wait had shrunk to their smallest natural state. (To be sure, even when at rest, the Brothers’ flaccid penises outsized the full erection of the best-endowed “normal” man.) The men tensed and pulsed as they made their deposits, as ordered by the ancient rites. Just as, in Christian tradition, sacred words turn the wine to Jesus' blood, so the High Priest's mystical incantation calls forth powers of the cum that is, like the Christian communion, at the very heart of our Religion. 

In the secret tongue he uttered the Prayer that must never be heard outside these walls:

"O Dark Lords, we beseech You to bestow upon us the blessed Gift: the power, from our loins, to plant our seed in fertile soil. A seed that represents burgeoning Life, but also the genesis of Death.

"Grant us a mystical union of Men that endures unto the grave and beyond. We commend unto You in sacrifice the youth, health, cleanliness of blood and purity of soul of our newest Brother. Take them from him. Remove from him those pale tokens of human frailty and grant in their stead a power greater than mere mortals can ever fathom.

"A power to bond in the most exquisite pleasure, unbridled sexual union, with Men of the same Blood. And to receive, in dark congress, the penetration of our Overlords from the nether realm when they come to us in the night and take what they desire of our human flesh -- giving us in return the purest ecstasy beyond our human capacity to understand.

"Grant us these gifts, O Lords. We pour forth as commanded the holy nectar of life. Let it penetrate and transform this Pledge. Take the boy he was, strangle the pathetic mortal life from him, and give him rebirth in glorious full Manhood.

"This we pray in the name of Cock, our almighty deity."

The Brothers had all delivered forth their precious Devotions from the rock-hard sacred Shafts into the moist, dark, fleshy Chalice that was perfectly designed to receive them.

They had exerted every muscle in fulfilling their solemn duty. Rippling torsos gleamed with sweat in the crackling torchlight. Gloriously massive cocks, their hours of diligent work at an end, began to relax from attention, slick with the offerings of the many Brethren who had shared the holiness. 

The lovemaking had provoked a powerful feeling of blessed togetherness. Now that the raw, animalistic fucking necessary to brutally inject the virus into the new Pledge had finished (it was not without pain and bleeding -- much like childbirth), the tender side of their brotherly love emerged.

There were embraces and passionate kisses, and a mingling of taut, muscled limbs as piles of satisfied men fell into each other's arms on the flagstone floor.

The High Priest, who was, as protocol decreed, the last to deliver a load (his fourth or fifth of the Service), welcomed this tender moment, and approached the huddle. Seeing the men reclined and entangled, he lifted his spectacular member – even at rest a good few inches longer than most of the Brothers’ full erections – in his hand.

A powerful stream of gushing yellow rushed forth. Another holy benediction. The Priest doused the men liberally with its blessings. Mouths opened eagerly to receive their divine liquid benediction. 

His cock began to stiffen again, aroused by this feeling of family bonding. He allowed the more eager of the Brothers to swallow him, giving a warm balm to throats that were fatigued from chanting and grunting all night. 

When he felt a sixth eruption of semen gathering force in his loins, he quickly strode to the Senior Brother, a man who could only be described as godlike: golden blond, six-foot-three with chiseled features, icy blue eyes, a magnificent chest lightly dusted in golden hair, and rippling muscles of breathtaking beauty. This Brother, by virtue of his high station -- and, it must be admitted, of an admirable viral load that had maintained its peak of nearly 1 million, years after the Brother crossed over into viral Manhood -- had the privilege of designated Alpha status. This meant exclusive top duties, not only in anointing negative Pledges with his toxic gift, but in recharging Brothers to help top up flagging strains.

His potency, in both sexual prowess and viral toxicity, was legendary. This night he had so dominated the Pledge -- delivering a minimum of ten injections -- that the Brethren were certain that his strain would prove the viral Alpha, muscling out the dozens of others that were competing to be the first to overwhelm the formerly strong, young immune system that was destined to be subdued and possessed.

The High Priest approached this man. He might be an Alpha, but the Hierarchy must be observed. The Priest lightly stroked his cock and the Alpha knew what to do. He assumed position, turning his deeply rippled back to the Priest. His Brothers helped support him as he leaned, presenting his hard, muscled hindquarters to his Superior. So tight was his hole that assistance was needed in the sacramental Penetration. Willing Brothers lent their tongues to the task, preparing the muscular, manly orifice for its humbling. The Priest was ready to take what was rightfully his.

In a single, powerful stroke he drove his manhood -- dare I say godhood -- deep into the most private and intimate part of the Alpha Brother. He grasped the man's muscled shoulders, hard as granite, while he pumped in piston strokes, as powerful as a steam engine. Finally the seed streamed forth deep into the man's cavity. The degraded Alpha cried out in pain and humiliation -- and in love and devotion to his Master.

For the Priest had earned his station through many years, and had himself taken countless such Injections. His infection was beyond legendary: a viral load in the millions, in theory resistant to every medication (not that he had, or would, try them). An ejaculation from him virtually guaranteed that a man would retain his potency and be blessed with many offspring. For this the Brothers were grateful and, despite the pain and shame of being raped before the entire assembly, eagerly accepted what was being forced upon them -- for it was a precious gift.

This flow of sacred semen came in spurt after spurt. The Priest's buttocks clenched and unclenched repeatedly in involuntary spasms, fulfilling their hard but anointed labor. He tensed his entire body and a guttural, animal roar emanated from his throat. 

This, the final orgasm of the endless night, marked the official close of an indescribable marathon of impossible ecstasy, both deadly serious and bathed with pleasures only the powers of His Dark Lordship could endow.

(To be continued)

 

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A fantastic conclusion of the initiation.  Oh how I dream to to be the Pledge!  Now, it's time for the Pledge to become a full member of the Brotherhood by recruiting new Pledges and expand the Brotherhood!  Thank you for a story line that celebrates Cock and his Glory and Power of Life--the Sacred Cum.

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22 hours ago, PDXPDX said:

I'm not sure how I'm supposed to post subsequent chapters -- just as comments on this thread?

Yes, please keep all the chapters of a continuous story in one topic. That way people can find them easily and come back to check for continuing chapters!

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  • viking8x6 changed the title to Brotherhood of the Bug

III. A Deeper Love

The ceremony at an end, the Brothers again arranged themselves in a semicircle, resuming the final chant. The Initiate was released. A robe was brought -- this one with the deep crimson cord of a Novice rather than the simple white he had worn before. 

He was taken away to private quarters, where he would be held in confinement for the next 72 hours, lest he be overcome by the urge to seek medical intervention in the form of PEP, an abomination that is sacrilege and treason to our creed. He would be well loved and cared for, and Brothers would continue to engage him in lovemaking both rough and tender, now intended not to infect – that work was surely done – but to strengthen the bonds of family. He would have access to a well-equipped gym where the Brother Trainer would kindly but firmly oversee his physical transformation. 

The Initiate understood that a final trial awaited in some days or weeks. Given the potency of their family strain, few Brothers, upon conversion, escape the most violent illness. The Fuck Flu is a painful ordeal – but a glorious one. For it marks a boy's final crossing through the fire, to the full triumph of Manhood achieved. Poz: he will have earned the high rank that is the culmination of a homosexual life.

In the days and weeks after the Ritual, life resumed its normal rhythms in the chapter house. Each man ventured forth to his daily occupation, clad in quotidian garb and indistinguishable –  on the exterior – from the common folk, who must never know his true identity. The Brothers hold important jobs: many are lawyers and politicians, artists and journalists, doctors and lab technicians (the last two fulfill crucial duties for the Brotherhood, as we shall see later). Their worldly success is an expression of the fraternal sustenance and the powerful secret network they enjoy.

Evenings after the workday are reserved for fellowship: meals together filled with wine, laughter, and deep affection -- which is, of course, then given its full expression in muscular, manly copulation.

Their passion for one another inspires the Brothers to take each other to new heights of ecstasy. In their tender mutual devotion, they learn the special desires of each Brother and strive to give him fulfillment. Some men need to be strapped into a sling and take cock after cock (this can take place in the Sanctuary, but only during consecrated chapter meetings). Some need to be clad in leather (of which the Chapter House possesses a vast storeroom), bound to a cross, their bare backs flogged to a deep crimson -- or their manhoods wired with electrodes, their bodies twisting in painful, jolting ecstasy at the hands of the Brother holding the console, who controls them completely.

Others, oriented as tops, need to inject their load into the man they most covet -- whether selecting the young, tender flesh of the newest recruit, or directing their semen into the mature, hard-trained body of the most senior Brother. The objects of their desire are expected, within reason, to give their bodies freely, for they too have tasted the satisfaction of their own deepest fantasies.

For men who need a fist in their gut, a Brother always stands ready to provide his muscled arm, up to the elbow or shoulder as required. Of course, some live to be bathed in piss, pouring forth from phallic fonts like holy water. For such a man, a gathering will be summoned -- five or more Brothers will endure the discomfort of drinking beer after beer and holding their bladders until the anointed time, so that their Brother in need can be deluged with steaming streams until he explodes in joy.

Another form of ecstasy is little spoken of, but known to all. Deep in the night, in his most private moments, a man may feel himself summoned to serve as the vessel for dark Powers, beyond the grasp of mortal minds. When an ethereal Entity sweeps a Brother from his bed in the dark, the man must submit. He is carried to another plane, where his body is invaded, speared by one or more Members of supernatural proportions – his gut and throat pumped beyond imaginable capacity with gushes of ecstatic, ectoplasmic fluid. The men thus taken feel themselves ripped open, their holes and throats ravished. But when laid back in their beds they fall into a deep sleep and their flesh is regenerated. They wake with the same tight, muscular rectums they had as youth. But the unfathomable joys they have experienced during the night remain, coursing through them like a powerful current. This does not happen frequently, but when it does, the Brothers will observe the man in question at the breakfast table, his face bearing witness to a peace and joy like no other, his body bathed in a perceptible aura, almost an electrical force field. It is a coveted experience, on such a day, to make love with that anointed Brother, for the residual supernatural energy may rub off from the chosen one’s body onto his partner.

Despite this link to the Beyond, the Brothers remain human. Amidst the supreme pleasures of the flesh the heart has its tender desires, and there is the natural tendency to fall in love. While the sin of sexual monogamy is frowned upon (and would impede the sacred duty of spreading the Faith), this unnatural vice is almost never encountered. Nonetheless, the Brothers may freely devote themselves to romantic love as nature decrees, and are encouraged to give their hearts to one another. Devoted relationships form, some of them bonding for life -- husbands and brothers at the same time.

There can be no stronger connection between two men than sharing in the duties of Conversion. Not infrequently, a pair of Brothers will venture out and select an unknowing man to seed together (the sharing of the virus is not limited to ritual Initiations -- but the Brothers, just like Christians following Jesus' commandment, go forth as missionaries into the world). A threesome with such an impeccably beautiful couple is a powerful draw to an unsuspecting young man, and the chosen target, usually selected because of his expressed insistence on condoms, will invariably relent and accept their potent loads. Later, after the initial shock of an unexpected test result, that young man will most often adjust to the joys of his enhanced status, and -- if he is lucky enough to pinpoint the date of his infection -- have fond memories of the fuck of a lifetime.

Romantic love is, of course, not limited to pairs. Lovers form special bonds of threes, fours and more. The Brothers know that love can expand almost infinitely. Just as a parent can have equal love for many children, a man can share a romantic connection with as many husbands as he realistically can devote proper care and affection to. (The High Council may offer wise and gentle advice in some cases to ensure that these relationships are healthy. There is no specific rule, but in general a union of more than five husbands can be hard to sustain while meeting everyone's emotional needs).

It is a moment of special joy when a marriage is performed in the Chapter Hall. At one recent wedding, the four grooms, dressed in formal wear (above the waist only, of course), held hands in a circle while they recited their vows. The Priest declared them husbands, then asked the Congregation to affirm their support, declaring, "You may fuck the grooms." The four (in a gesture reminiscent of the Initiation ritual) turned and bent over the altar, at which point the gathered Brothers arose and penetrated the new quadruple, anointing them with sacred semen to seal their union forever.

Love may take many other forms. Owners and slaves, masters and pups, daddies and boys -- the full spectrum of masculine love is acknowledged and celebrated. Only enforced chastity is considered anathema to religious practice -- for the locked penile cages that are popular in today's BDSM scene prevent a man from achieving erection and ejaculation. They may, however, be tolerated, within reason, in the form of temporary play, so long as the subject remains a man with full manly powers.

Indeed, the privileges of Brotherhood entail next to no [banned word] in general -- except for drug abuse: antiretroviral treatment, to be exact, a deadly poison that deals a knockout blow to the delicate, beautiful viral life that stirs in the Brothers' loins. To subdue the Virus is to betray the sacred duty of the Brothers. As such, any indication of ARV use is grounds for excommunication -- an extreme measure which, thankfully, has only rarely been resorted to.

(To be continued)

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IV. Fever Pitch

The rhythm of life in the Chapter House continued in the days after the Conversion Ritual. Lives and loves were celebrated, laughter and the union of the flesh continued to strengthen the manly bonds of the community. An energy and excitement filled the air, as it always does in the sacred season of a Conversion.

Rumors circulated that visits of the Dark One were more frequent in these days. None dared speak of them, but the chosen ones betrayed their secrets in their morning countenances of beatific, demonic bliss. In this mystical, magical time, the passions He bestowed on the men selected to submit to His desires were more exquisite, the pleasures they experienced more searingly, beautifully painful, than before. The Brothers had given their spirits entirely to their Lord and Master. He held those trembling and vulnerable souls, literally, in His massive and clawed hand, and, if it can be said, stroked and stimulated them to a climax of celestial – nay, infernal – passion. The explosion of secret joy, in the silent darkness where He takes His subjects, can only be called an orgasm of the soul.

A good two weeks after the Ritual, news of infinite joy spread through the Chapter. The Initiate had woken in fiery, delirious fever, an angry rash spreading across his torso. The Fuck Flu: a unique and one-time experience in a young man’s life, of more significance even than a boy’s first ejaculation. This was a time to celebrate -- for the sickness meant that the lad, though he would walk through a searing fire in the days ahead, was making his final transition to glorious Manhood.

A Brother Medic was assigned to attend the young man’s bedside at all times, wiping his burning brow with a cool cloth and tenderly raising his head to give him sips of fluid containing electrolytes (stirred in with a load of cum that had been donated earlier, with a wry smile, by a Brother known as a prankster). All the Brothers knew full well what their new comrade was experiencing, for they had gone through the same in their day. Along with compassion, they were filled with pride – and not a little jealousy, fondly wishing they could relive that age of excruciating growth and new discovery.

The Initiate murmured incoherently as he thrashed about in his sweat-soaked bed. Fading in and out of consciousness, he was vaguely aware of having been taken on a journey that night – a dreamlike odyssey that bewildered his young mind. For the night had brought a moment that comes only once in a youthful Brother’s life: his first time chosen by the Dark One to be inseminated, taken to the darkest depths of pure pleasure -- a pleasure tinged with the realization that he had given his immortal soul, of his own free will, in exchange for an eternity of sexual ecstasy. His spiritual virginity had been taken from him.

A searing pain in the Initiate’s entrails brought forth vague, flickering memories of a gargantuan phallus, a hooded obelisk of hard, dark, scaly flesh, wrapped in veins like thick jungle vines. Out of the darkness eyes of fire, impossible to gaze at directly, had bored into him. Invisible, powerful limbs had muscled his vulnerable body into position so that the massive pillar could penetrate him to his most intimate depths -- quite simply, fucking his soul.

As a river of boiling ejaculate flooded into him, his temperature began to soar almost immediately. Youth and health were sucked out of him in an instant, leaving him drained and deathly ill. For in this moment, the Dark Father was bestowing a satanic sickness on his newest Son. While the medical profession diagnoses such a fever as the biological process of seroconversion, for us it is a mystical event, like the transubstantiation that is at the heart of the Christian Holy Communion. The transition of a man’s body through Conversion is the most hallowed miracle of our Religion, to which we bow down in reverent worship.

Desperate antibodies deluged the Initiate’s tortured body as his immune cells made their final, pathetic fight against the overwhelming invader. They were doomed to fail, but while they made their impotent last stand, the body was inflamed with a deathly illness like nothing the young man had ever experienced. Two days into his fever, a doctor was summoned to his bedside – one of several prominent physicians who were secret Brothers. (The man was, in fact, the dean of the medical school at the local university -- a campus well known to the Brothers, for it was prime hunting grounds, full of bright-eyed and innocent undergraduates, their raging hormones and youthful, unexposed blood a tempting invitation). The doctor gave a fatherly smile as he examined the Initiate. His temperature – 103 degrees Fahrenheit – was in line with that typically bestowed by the family strain. The pounding headache was likely to subside within another two or three days; the rash would fade in a week or so. 

The Transformation was proceeding in a normal, healthy fashion.

(To be continued)

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Body and soul, willingly given to the Dark Lord and his minions, and a life devoted to decadent carnality and sharing his viral gift. Nothing could be hotter.

On 3/21/2024 at 3:30 PM, PDXPDX said:

Deep in the night, in his most private moments, a man may feel himself summoned to serve as the vessel for dark Powers, beyond the grasp of mortal minds. When an ethereal Entity sweeps a Brother from his bed in the dark, the man must submit. He is carried to another plane, where his body is invaded, speared by one or more Members of supernatural proportions – his gut and throat pumped beyond imaginable capacity with gushes of ecstatic, ectoplasmic fluid.

Can a man do something to earn such a dark blessing or is it only given to the unsuspecting?

Edited by pnpsub
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