Timmy and the Brotherhood

[bottomboyam]

Rory and the German Muscle Twins

Within seconds of Conrad and Dimitri leaving with Felix, his brother Karl had Rory naked. As they waited for someone to come and take over the door, Rory got a chance to enjoy the big man’s muscular chest. Both Karl and his twin Felix were about 6’ 6”, dark blonde, with square, brutish faces. They had massive broad shoulders, arms bulging with muscle and veins, small wrists and huge hands. Their legs were huge and muscular. Rory thought they looked like something out of a Tom of Finland drawing and he was extremely turned on. 

 

After about five minutes, Spike, a scary-but-hot Latino skinhead showed up.  “Who’s this gorgeous little redhead, Karl?”  Rory turned around and leaned forward to kiss Spike. “My name is Rory, which rhymes with whorey. You wan’ a fuck later?” Rorey said, already flying from the big rocks Karl had put up his hole. “I will come find you after the tonight’s rites are completed,” Spike promised, putting the little red haired hotties small hand on his big hard tool. “You can have him for sloppy seconds,” Karl laughed, “My brother and I are preparing him to be blessed by the Horn of Plenty.”  “Hot,” said Spike, “I will be sure to position my offering where I can see his face when that big tool pierces that perfect little butt. Karl grinned and picked Rory up and said, “Gotta go.”

 

Karl carried Rory into the small anteroom where the Eudaemons had dressed Conrad and Dimitri. Conrad and Dimitri were already a long way away. Rory was still aware enough that ask Karl how his friends had gone so far. “Time works funny here in the Temple.” Karl shrugged, “I wouldn’t be surprised if we have been playing for an hour or more before they pass our play space.”  Karl stripped off his pants—Rory had gotten his shirt off him with in seconds—revealing how faultless his body-builder body was. His huge uncut cock—easily ten inches and as thick as Conrad’s—sported a big PA. Rory started to drop to his knees but Karl said,  “Let’s get you kitted out, pleamty of time for sex in a second.”

 

He grabbed a set of beautifully carved wrist and ankle cuffs and affixed them to Rory’s body. Rory looked at them in wonder, they looked to be priceless antiques, embossed with images of woodland creatures. In the center of each was a black opal engraved with a spider web.  “That’s my family crest,” Karl said proudly, “For 600 years the second sons of my family have served in the temple, guarding the door and selecting men to mate with the Great Stag.”  He then looked at Rory solemnly, “The Great Stag desires that you be his offering during the Temple’s daily ritual. My brother and I will prepare you and your hole as best we can, but the horn of plenty is probably bigger than any dildo you’ve ever ridden.”  Karl then turned and pointed to a gorgeous, ancient fresco, which showed a beautiful dark-haired man, his face a mask of blissed-out ecstasy as he rode on a massive, unnaturally large cock attached to a man in a stag’s head mask. “ Karl turned to him and said, “But you have to say yes,”. Karl said, “Of your own free will.  My forebearers used to trap men to serve as the Stag’s slaves, but since we abandoned slavery the Brotherhood stopped that practice.  I can assure that you will be very high on some drugs you know and some that can only be found in our Brotherhold. But you will bear the Stags mark.  This will make you very desired boy and you will most likely meet your soulmate and be a bearers companion at some point in the future.   That will guarantee you a very, very long life with a man you will feel undying love for.”  When Rory looked shocked, “It wont be Dimitri or Conrad, though, the Crone has foretold it. But she also foretold you will mate with another bearer and the Americans will be your close friends for several lifetimes.”  Without saying a word Rory walked over to examine the slave collar.  It had images of a Great Stag, spiders webs and spiders worked into the thick leather. He grinned, “Holy fuck yes! I don’t care if that monster cock kills me—as long as I am high and getting fucked I can’t think of a better way to spend my night.”   

 

And so proudly wearing the collar and ankle restraints Karl took Rory down a side passage to he and his brother’s play space.  It was a very long hall and he was surprised to see that they could glimpse Dimitri and Konrad with Felix, the other twin through the play spaces. They came to small door, next to the big door that marked the stags sanctum, and Karl opened it.  Midway down there was a black space with a black door. The entire thing was black walnut stained black—Rory had an uncle who made furniture so he knew the thing was insanely old and insanely valuable—a silver spider web was worked in beautifully polished silver metal and when he touched it he heard whispers of dark pleasures and he shivered.  Karl opened the door and stood aside. “You can still back out. During the hours of pain my brother and I will hurt you, a lot.  Thre Dark Lord demands it, but when the Great Orgy begins and you are blessed to ride the Horn of Plenty, the sacred sperm will heal even the deepest wounds from our lash and you will experience ecstasy unlike any other. You will then serve as a temple sex slave for several days to repay the Stag for his gift. But you like sex, I have heard, and so I think you will have a good time.”  Rory leaned forward to hold the man’s huge pulsing member. He leaned forward, “I am in big man. Now let’s stop talking and start fucking.”

 

So Karl took him inside.  Like all the alcoves inside the doors of the Stag’s inner sanctum, dark sex and light sex were mixed. Along one wall was an ancient, gorgeous, carved-iron Saint Andrew’s cross. The walls were all black leather—the smell was intoxicating and Rory breathed in deep. The place smelled like pure sex. There were sex toys everywhere—the twins had tens of thousands of dollars worth of every size of every model of toy Rory had ever seen on the websites for premium silicone.  One wall was all BDSM equipment with straps, belts, paddles, two matching and very scary bullwhips, and then every manner of tit clamps, ball crushers, and in a clear glass case hundreds of piercing needles.  There were lots of mirrors and a massive white bed, big enough for the big men and several other men. The curtains were a mix of clear sheer white cloth and black leather strips. There were two massive carved walnut chairs, clearly designed so bottoms could worship the men’s asses, and with lots of places for men to perch while they got railed. 

 

Karl got to work, opening an ancient carved silver box with black spider inlays filled with vials and vials of Tina, and other vials and clear glass bottles filled with drugs—Rory recognized several overflowing with the finest capsules of X making the rounds in Berlin’s clubs. There were also dozens of bottles of a blue glowing substance. “Wha wit’ the blue stuff,” Rory said, surprised that his Scottish accent was so strong—it usually disappeared when he was high. “That’s a mixture of the fluids that constantly drip from the Horn of Plenty with some of the sacred sperm. All the ancient ones produce it, but whoever is bearing the burden of leadership—and of living with Horn of Plenty—they produce the most potent.  I’ve not taken it—it’s strictly bottoms only—but it’s said to produce amazing euphoria. All I know is it takes a hungry bottom boys hole to the next level.  It’s so strong we’ve  fisted virgin asses within 20 minutes of them downing some of it.”  Rory smiled with glee. Like many young gay men he would try nearly any drug—he and his friends considered it their birthright as gay men—and anything that opened his hole he loved. 

 

Karl then walked over to Rory and picked him up again, passionately kissing him, and carried over to a small tiled corner of the space. He set him down and affixed his arms to two widely spaced hooks in the ceiling.  “That hole clean for deep play, little whore?” he said.  When Rory replied yes, sir, Kirk just grunted and said, “We will see.”  First he took out a straight razor. “Hair is forbidden below the neck on all submissives in the temple,” he said sternly.  And quickly whisked away Rory’s neatly trimmed bush and armpit hair.  He also removed the light hair that dusted Rory’s arms and legs He nodded approvingly when he saw that the boy kept his boypussy, taint, balls, and chest shaved smooth.  He then pulled out an enema bag bulging with liquid. “This is our chempiss from the day.”  He untied Rory and had him get on his hands and knees.  When Rory immediately went chest down and automatically reached back to expose his pink hole, Karl smiled and said, “Good boy.”  Karl then proceeded to fill the boy with he and his brothers chempiss.  When the bag was empty, he slid a heavy metal buttplug into the boy. 

 

Karl pulled out an ancient hourglass, with enough sand that it would last five minutes.   He had Rory get up on his haunches—the boy whined at the the pull of the heavy plug and enema on his hole. At the sound, Karl backhanded the boy. “Stop your complaining,” he said sternly, “You haven’t even begun to suffer.”  And so for five full minutes, as Rory desperately deepthroated the muscle gods cock, he also strained, cramped, and spasmed around a colon full of the strongest drugs in Berlin. 

 

When the hourglass ran out, Rory was desperate.  He crab walked as directed to the shower spot—panting, and groaning, his abs visibly cramping, and when directed pushed and pushed, screaming slightly when the big heavy metal ball popped out. Karl hosed the boy off and dried him with soft fluffy towels. 

 

He heard the door open and Felix entered and said, “Did I miss his chempiss enema? I wanted to see the stud suffer.” Karl smiled, “It was gorgeous.  To make up for it, you can give him the first load.” Felix walked over and led Rory over to the bed. “Fuck baby, that chempiss must have been strong, you so fucking warm.”  Rory and he started making out.  Then Rory paused, lucid for a second, “How do I tell you and your brother apart?”  Felix smiled, and showed the boy the small black and silver enameled F he wore and then Rory noticed the K around Karl’s neck. He’d been so into Karl’s muscular body he’d not even noticed. “And,” Felix smiled, “My cock is full inch longer then Karl’s just not quite as thick.”

 

With those words, he pushed Rory down to pleasure his cock. He moaned loudly as the super experienced little whore deepthroated him on the first try.  A few minutes later, Karl knelt beside him. “Are you ready for the best night of your life?” he breathed in the boys perfect little ear. Rory nodded, not once stopping up his blowjob.  “Hold your arm out,” Felix ordered, “Let my brother give you a big point. When he says to, take your mouth off my cock. I don’t want you biting me when you cough.”

 

Karl expertly tied the boys arm and found a vein—it wasn’t hard, as the little muscle boy was a lean sexpot with gorgeous, bulging, visible veins through the milky-white skin on his arms and legs—registered then said “Mouth off cock, boy.”  Rory turned to watch, his eyes wide at the size of the slam they were giving him.  Then the world compressed and he had a major coughing fit.  Within seconds the brothers had given themselves a slam and had the boy doggy style.  Felix started fucking and Karl took his mouth. Both men were loving life—and so was the boy.  Rory was pushing back, and in between displaying his expert cock sucking abilities, he would holler “Fuck me harder, Felix, give me that German sperm.”   Karl grinned and glsnced to the right and saw that the Americans were just now passing their alcove in the main aisle. 

 

The twins and the muscle twink enjoyed about an hour of fucking—each man gave the boy two loads—when Rory started begging for their fists. They put Rory in a sling and showed him how to use their poppers dispenser. And that’s when Rory first noticed that the ceiling of the temple was enchanted. Rather than a ceiling or roof it looked like a gorgeous blue sky with wispy clouds. He tried to talk, but he found he only think about getting those big muscle arms up his boypussy. 

 

Felix handed Rory a bottle of the blue drug, but told him to wait before taking it. Felix went first—his hands were just ever-so-slightly smaller than his brothers. Within seconds of fingering the boy, he could tell the little whore was a very experienced fist pig, so he ordered the boy to drink up.  As he did, Felix began to go in, the boy roared with pleasure as all his veins began to glow blue, and his little hole opened like flower at dawn and Felix was in.

 

Felix paused, his face a mask of pure pleasure. “You got a great hole,” he breathed. Rory was panting—amazed at how quickly the big hand had gone in.  “Fuck,” he said “that’s a big paw.”  Felix leaned in, and he and his brother made out with Rory while he slowly began to stretch the gorgeous redheads pink asshole.  Rory’s veins—so visible in his milky white skin—continued to glow.  Rory thought he could hear whispers, “Open your hole for me, worship my darkness, give yourselves to these, my servants, let them destroy you— and my brother-god Dionysus will raise you up into pleasure so sweet.”

 

And so Rory, a boy already familiar with and proud of his wantoness, felt every bit of the shame he didn’t even know he still carried wash away and he opened his legs wide.  “Use my hole, muscle gods, servants of dark and light, destroy me.”   And destroy that hole the three men did, together.  Rory begging  first one twin, then the other, to open his hole, begging for deeper and wider, until they could easily fist him elbow deep.  

 

These sexual shenanigans went on for several hours. Rory never tired, although the men did give him vial after vial of the blue liquid. The began alternating fists and toys, punching him, driving the toys deep, as the boys hunger increased ten fold. Finally, by the time Rory was practically blue—ever capillary and vein glowing blue—a dark bell rang out six times. “The Dark Lord demands pain,” they chanted together, “Come little one, and let us torture you.”

 

The inserted a big heavy stone dildo in the boy—Rory felt the weight of it stretching his insides in ways he never been stretched—it made his boypussy ache. They affixed him to the wall facing outwards first, trying his legs and around the waist so the big stone cock couldn’t come out. When he bagged them to give him something smaller, they laughed and punched his guts  causing them to cramp around the giant hard stone. But they slammed him again, and the stretching started to feel good again. 

 

The weighted is balls until he was begging them to stop, then put more weights on until he screamed. They put a leather hood over his head to protect his face, and used a long slim whip to mark his gorgeous body from feet to shoulders. Karl them spent about half an hour, whipping the boys cock until its was covered in welts. 

 

They let him hang there on the wall his head slack, sobbing loudly inside the hood. But when they pulled the hood off and kissed him and told him to ask for more pain.  Rory squared his shoulders and with his head high said “More pain, sir, please, punish me more.”  Felix and Karl removed the rope around his stomach and the other around his middle.  “Hunch you ass out and push out that toy,” Felix ordered. Rory—high and on the endorphin rush from the whipping—was too confused to comply. So each twin scrunched him forward so his ass was paralell to the floor. Rory pushed and the enormous dildo came clattering out on to the floor. 

 

Rory’s hole was trashed, so they left him there and started double fisting him for a while as Rory squealed in piggy delight. Finally Karl knelt and embedded his arm elbow deep in the boy.  Felix removed the bonds first from his feet and then from his arms. Karl expertly arose—the muscles on his ass and huge thighs bulging—folding Rory forward. “Put your arms around my neck, boy,” he ordered as his spun Rory around still elbow deep in the little pig his back and Rory’s front now facing the wall. Rory squealed and did his best to ride the big arm up and down. Karl came up in front and Felix felt  the heat of his sweaty twin’s body.  Karl leaned forward, pushing himself together with his twin using his free hand to stroke their huge slick cocks together. “Let’s give this pussy a stretch it will never forget brother,”Karl said with an evil grin. 

 

“Boy, look here,” Felix commanded, Rory opened his eyes and looked, all the while rocking on the big elbow.    “Wanna get stretched, pig pussy?” Karl asked.  Rory smiled, deep in the Dark Lord’s grasp, and replied, “Please sir, more sir, more.”  Felix took a point filled with a small amount of Tina and filled the vial with half blood from his arm, then half from his brothers free arm. Karl knelt slightly to give Felix access, and Felix deftly grabbed Rory’s head, turned it to the side in an iron grip, found a vein and slammed the boy into outer space. 

 

Karl stood back up, and balanced himself agains the wall. Inside of Rory he balled up a square fist just as Felix fist began its journey up the hot, velvet colon.  Rory was flying hard, and just moaned as Felix ever so slightly began to pull his entire arm back, stretching the boys colon wide. Suddenly Rory was alert, and his head shot up and he shouted, “Oh fuck, daddy, oh fuck.”  Felix grinned and handed the boy some poppers. “You are going to need these,” he said, “Because we are just getting started.”

 

Ever so slowly they pulled and stretched Rory’s hole apart. Rory moaned, shouted and even screamed once, but he never asked them to stop, and kept huffing on the poppers. They worked slowly but derminedly, changing positions and stretching the pink boy pussy. When they got to the point were there was probably 1/2 inch of free space between their arms, Rory started screaming as he experienced wave after wave of anal orgasms, his little cock dribbling come and piss in a constant stream. When he settled down, Felix removed his fist and Rory held out his arms and Felix affixed his arms to the wall. Karl knelt so Felix could bind him to the wall. Karl took his elbow out, relectutantly—the kids pussy was heaven—and they slid a huge long, slinky-like plug with a big ball at the end to hold it in. And the beating began. 

 

It was clear that Rory loved to take a  flogging, and they did his back and ass first, and Rory roared and wiggled and edge them on. They then strapped him with a wide prison strap and the tawse, the leather snapping against the boys muscle ass loudly.  Rory grunted and cried out, but he kept his ass out and ready for more. They kept going, faster and faster, until Rory lost control and started shaking and crying out. He convulsed on a particular hard hit, and the huge dildo dropped out, his asslips wide like a cunt. 

 

At that exact moment, the Great Gong sounded.  Karl and Felix put down their straps and pulled the frame the boy was attached to from the wall. As they did so, ancient silver chains dropped down all around the boy, making Rory look like he was trapped in a spider’s web. They pushed the rolling frame out into the hall. Rory, coming down from his rush, looked up and saw two rows of attendents—small twinks in white linen tunics with gold crowns on their heads each standing next to a naked muscle man, back cross crossed with the scraps of whip marks, their cocks caged, and their faces masked in leather hoods with only their eyes visible. These attendents picked up the long thick cords preparing to roll him and the frame down the hall. Behind him he heard one of the twins shout, “The Dark Lord demands pain.”  On the word pain the bullwhip struck Rory’s back with a sear and he screamed. They rolled slowly down the hall and another bell rang. The entourage stopped, and the twin on the other side of him shouted, “Offer the Dark Lord this pain as a sacrifice.”  On the word sacrifice the bullwhip lashed his back and Rory screamed. The procession went slowly like this, stopping and saying ritual words, each stop equally a searing whip on one side of Rory’s back.

 

By the time they got to the center of the huge hall—Rory would only realize later that the hall he had come down was one of 6 that converged in a round throne space for the Great Stag—Rory’s head was hanging and he was holding on by a thread. His back was covered in vicious welts and there was a bit of blood dripping.  The attendants stopped,  bowed low the Grrat stag and then turned and detached the big ropes.  The twins—their bodies dripping with sweat from the effort of wielding the whips, handed them to attendents, who took them reverently. They stood in front of Rory and tenderly kissed him. “You look like a fresh cut side of premium beef,” Felix grinned, “But you did good.”  Karl held a huge vial of the blue liquid, and made Rory slowly drink it.  It immediately healed his sore throat and made him glow, but his flesh remained marked and bleeding. Felix held Rory’s head upright and snapped a thick,  immobilizing silver collar around the boys neck. 

 

The twins then slowly turned Rory, shouting “Brothers, behold the sacrifice of pain, behold the offering!”  Rory was more awake now—the blue liquid had alleviated some of his pain—and he saw the huge temple was full of thousands of men of all shapes and sizes. He saw hundreds of men with animal tattoos like Conrad and Dimitri, and thousands more from tiny Asian twinks to massive African muscle gods, all dressed in white togas and gold laurel crowns, their bodies dripping with sweat, the big men’s cocks covered in ass juice, the bottoms, their garments half torn off, with piss, cum and sweat dripping down their legs, shoulders and backs and asses vivid red with the signs of a beating. Each of the top men had some instrument of torture in his hand, often a whip, or a strap, and the bottoms were now smiling but most of their faces were wet from tears. This was clearly a massive BDSM orgy, and the smell of Tina smoke, opium, marijuana, poppers, and mansex was everywhere. Suddenly fully within himself, Rory grinned and shouted, “Fucking hot party, fuck me daddy, hurt me daddy, use me, fist me hard.”  The entire assembly pealed with laughter before growing silent. 

 

The twins turned Rory around and he got his first look at the Great Stag. He was standing in the center of small v of three chairs. Dimitri and Conrad were on each side of him, their fists and cocks buried in gorgeous Scandinavian twins, with other twinks and tall lean Latin boys around them. Their faces were a mask of ecstacy, but their eyes were unblinking and open, their eyes milky with a blue glow. Karl whisphered, “They are in a sacred trance.”  The he and his brother stepped forward and bowed before the Great Stag. “We offer this sacrifice of pain for you to anoint with the Horn of Plenty, my lord,” the twins said in loud, ceremonial unison, “We pray he is acceptable.”

 

The Great Stag smiled, and Rory got his first real look at him.  He was an extremely tall, thin but muscular pitch-black African, with the face and hauteur of an ancient prince. The thing between his legs was so big it was fucking scary. Wider than any dildo Rory had ever seen, it was long and thick and curved upward. So big, it required attendents to hold it up. At the end of the thing was a giant hot muscle man, suckling and drinking in ecstacy from the constant stream of blue fluid, piss, and precum the monstrosity produced. The Great Stag looked Rory directly in the eye, his tiger brown eyes alight in Rory’s blues, he nodded and Rory heard a voice in his head.

 

“You’re scared, you should be.” Rory blinked in Surprise, “Yes, little slave, I, the Great Stag, master of the order, am speaking in your pretty head,” the man said. His voice was lightly accented, exotic, ancient and beguiling. Rory had no idea what animal was hiding behind the Great Stag tattoo, but he was pretty sure it was some sexy fucking snake.  The Stag smiled and whispered in his mind,   “Good guess piggy, I am Lord Cobra as well as the Great Stag. “ Rory grinned, “When I fuck you I will first destroy you, you will be obliterated.  Don’t fight it, let yourself go, give yourself over the to the pain and the pleasure.  But when I come, you will be made whole. New and changed, with miraculous sexual abilities that will make you more desirable than you already are, you hot little muscle pussy.”  The Great Stag opened his mouth and great roar came out, “Do you want my great cock to destroy you boy?”  Rory grinned loud and said, “Fuck yes, Lord Stag, take my boypussy and destroy me.”

[seattlebbbtm]

This is way hot 

[bottomboyam]

Rory and the Horn of Plenty

 

The Great Stag gestured with his hand, sat down, and returned fully to his trance.  A servant approached  with two hugely loaded points, the crystals dissolved in the blue drug. The twins each took a point, and held it to the crowd. “The Great Stag honors the sacrifice with a double slam mixed with his sacred fluid. The crowd roared and whistled.  People shouted, “Lucky little fucker,” “Save me a fuck, you gorgeous little muscle pussy.”  And then Rory lost track of time and space as he felt the twins register the points, and his world exploded under the force of the biggest, most sexually charged, insane slam of his life. 

When he came to again, he was lashed by big chains to a pillar, and he was quivering and shaking, in the grip of an anal orgasm. Felix held his legs up, pretzled back to his ears, while Karl was fisting him to the elbow.  “Deeper, Daddy Karl, deeper.”  Karl looked up and grinned, “Welcome back, baby boy,” shoving his arm in to the armpit and pumping. “Your Masters Dimitri and Conrad are awake,” Felix said, kissing him passionately. Rory looked around and locked eyes with Conrad and he shouted, “Feels so fucking good, Daddy.”  Conrad smiled and Rory went back to making out with the twins.

A few minutes later a wiry Latino appeared with a shimmering silver tray with a huge bottle of the blue drug. The Latino bowed to Karl and Felix and the looked at Rory. “Lord Wolf commands you drink this and saying armpit deep isn’t gold enough. You are to take both twins big shoulder in your pussyhole or he will punish you severely,” he hot Latino said solemnly. Then he paused, “And after you’ve taken some shoulder fucking for about 1/2 hour the Great Stag asks if you are ready for your destruction.” Rory nodded enthusiastically.

The Latino handed the tray and bottle to an attended and said, “Allow me to prep you.” He reached up and swiftly pulled both needles out of Rory’s left tit. He then reached over an licked and suckled on them biting and chewing, Rory screamed then moaned loudly. When the Latino’s mouth came up, Rory’s pierced tit was healed. He then walked around to the right said and did the same thing. This time though, he balled up his wiry fist and drove into Rory’s ass, already stuffed full with one of the twins shoulders, he then said quietly “Orgasm.”  Rory immediately started moaning, as he experienced a massive full anal orgasm. The Latino, his face dark with sexual energy, started punching Rory repeatedly, stretching him beyond belief as the twins massive shoulder stayed in place,, softly saying orgasm over and over and over again. Rory went wild, experiencing wave after wave of anal orgasms. The Latino kept this up for nearly five minutes, the orgasms causing the twinks shoulder to sink deeper and deeper into the boy. He stopped, removed his fist, and leaned in to kiss Rory. “You were told you would acquire miraculous sexual abilities,” he said quietly, “I just showed you two of mine.”  He then said, “I will find you later when I am off duty and show you how just how good my skills as a fisting switch are, beautiful pig,” the Latino said, “Now drink up and let Lord Stag destroy you.”  Tapping the stag tattoo in the middle of his chest, “Believe me, it’s fucking worth it.”  He patiently fed Rory the blue liquid and then kissed him and walked away. 

After the two brothers pounded him shoulder deep for about 20 minutes, a group of the Stags courtiers parted the crowd as the Great Stag, preceded by the 24 inches of the Horn Of Plenty approached. On the current Stag, the horn matched his shiny pitch black skin.  The enormous folds of skin around it’s literally tree trunk thickness dripped with the constant stream of piss, precum, and cum that flowed from the enormous hole in the cockhead. The piss hole was so big a huge muscle slave, his asshole hanging loose and red between his legs, had his tongue stuck to the root in the hole, pleasureimg the ancient sex god, and still the fluid dripped. 

When the unreal entourage reached the area where the German muscle pigs were still fisting Rory like crazy, the Stag raised an enormous bullwhip and struck down, missing all of his attendants and his own cock, and landed a slicedown the muscle servants back and into the crack of his ass. The slave screamed in ecstacy,  and his huge cock—covered in wax and whip marks, erupted and he fell to the side, his semen lightly tinged with blue from the enormous amount of the drug he’d consumed. 

The stag said, “I want to fuck this offering.”  The twins withdrew from their assault on Rory’s hole and bowed low. “We have done our best to open him, my lord,” Felix said, reverently, “We have taken a liking to the pig, so we beg you not to destroy him with your rod.”  The Great Stag laughed, “He will be destroyed, as you know, but he will be remade as a creature of the Gods.”

At that moment it was like the assembled orgy just stopped. The Stag spoke gently to Rory. “Boy, as I enter you, you will feel my need to obliterate you. You must not resist. You must instead willingly offer yourself and your hole for destruction.”  Rory started shaking, “My lord, I must ask for death!  How is that so?”  The Stag smiled gently, “The Horn of Plenty is a tool of both the Dark Lord and the God of Revelry. If you resist, only the Dark Lord will consent to your rape. You will take the cock in pain and suffering. And your fate will be to be a lost temple slut, like this unfortunate here.”  With a flick of his whip the Stag pointed out the muscle pig, caught mid-spurt from his cock, his face a rictus of pleasure so profound it was agony. “If you welcome the destruction the cock offers, then the Dark Lord must share the pleasure of your boy pussy with Our Lord  Bacchus. And they will make you into a creature of dark and light. Your taste in the most extreme forms of sexual torture will increase, but so will your love of light, life, and the pursuits of pleasure. It is a much more desirable way to live.”

Rory looked at the Great Stag and grinned, “And I suppose even if I wanted to back out now, you would never allow it?”  The Stag laughed, “You Scots are so cheeky.  You would never back down from a sexual undertaking like this. You were born a pig. Let me make you an even sluttier one.”  Rory smiled “Fuck me, sir, use me, destroy my hole, remake me.”

At that moment time restarted. The Stag wordlessly held out his hand and an attendant gave him a point, filled with a .75 slam.  Speaking in his booming voice, he shouted, “This offering pleases me as few have, therefore I honor him with a third blood slam before the Horn remakes him. This slam will be of Lord Covras blood, my human blood, my tainted diseased blood. He will carry the sexual power of a 1,000 depraved, piggy men. Any man he chooses to allow to torture him, to fist him, to use him, to fuck him, will experience sexual satisfaction beyond compare.”

At that he expertly filled the syringe with his blood. Rory saw it was not blue, like the others, but  red, although it had  blue sparkles like crystals of Tina themselves. Felix and Hans kept his legs back, and an attendant moved forward and before Rory could register what was happening, quickly and cleanly soaked Rory in the vein running up his cock. 

Rory screamed in ecstacy as a massive wave of pain and agony and pleasure rocketed through his body. The Stag moved with grace of a predator, handling his own massive cock like an expert, and entered Rory hard. Now Rory was aware, aware of his body’s most secret entrance being torn,he felt flesh rip, and he started to fight. But as he did, the Dark Lord whispered, “Yesssss,  pretty ginger pussy, let us rape you, make your solely ours.”  Rory grinned, “I welcome your destruction Dark Lord, I will honor you with a lifetime of sexual suffering and pain.  But…” He hard the Dark Lord hiss, “No!” Rory went on, ignoring the Dark One plea, “I also welcome you, God Pleasure and Lord of Revelry. Share the infinite sweetness of the destruction of my pussy, make me also your creature!”

At that moment, Rory screamed, as every bone and ligament in his pelvis opened wide, to the assembled crowd it looked like his asshole opened like the jaws of a snake opened to swallow a mouse, unnaturally wide, as his pussy grew large enough to swallow the big log of cock.  The he Stag shouted in triumph and pleasure as the entire length of his massive horn sank into the pulsing, fiery warmth of a very very tweaked out muscle pussy. 

Rory continued screaming, as he felt the humongous shaft be slowly absorbed by his boypuss. He felt like his insides were a battle, his colon was stretched so, so wide, and it always felt like it was on the verge of ripping him in two, then he would feel a pleasure 1000 times greater than he did when he was deep fisted. He could feel the destruction of his body, the one he had asked for, as the Dark Lord destroyed and Bacchus remained. It was the best fuck of his life. 

Since his fist fuck—at the age of 16 he’d seduced the 20-year-old giant oaf of a Pole who worked on a neighbors farm—Rory knew he was a nasty pig. He loved Vladimir’s huge, ugly cock. He loved the way Vlad called him names as he pounded Rory’s already muscular little ass. The way he would uses his big fat fingers to rough fuck Rory’s sloppy hole after dropping at least two big loads, Rory whining nd groaning with pleasure and need across the big hairy muscles of the farmhands wide chest. 

One afternoon—they always snuck around in the late afternoon, when the farmhands chores were done and nobody would be out at the old, far barn—Vlad was fingerfucking Rory pretty hard, his big digits slick from the four loads he’d dropped plus the lard they used as lube, and he slipped a fourth finger in. Rory whined and pushed back, knowing he wanted more. Vlad laughed and pushed his cock deeper in Rory’s already wide stretched mouth. “You are like a Berlin sex pig. That’s where you belong.” And so it was that little Rory, the minute he turned 18, took all the money he’d been secretly saving from blowing strangers every time he went to town, and bought bus and ferry tickets and slowly worked his way across the channel and to Berlin. In Europe, he learned how to find cursing spots and how convince men to give him money, so he could slowly whore his way to the city of his dreams.

At that moment, Rory came back into his body. He knew what Bacchus had been doing, both distracting him and getting at the root of his pleasure. He was screaming in a mixture of pain nd pleasure as the giant cock fucked him.  The Stag was not be gentle, pulling out and slamming in. With each slam he could feel his colon stretching wide,a feeling he loved, and just when he would feel like he was being ripped open,  Bacchus would step in an feed him with pleasure. He was amazing his torso was in in one piece, because the cock never shrank but somehow fit inside. 

The Great Stag leaned in, and slapped to bring Rory back from his high for just a moment. “You’re bigger on the inside.”  Rory laughed—he couldn’t believe the man had made a Dr Who joke in the middle of such nasty sex—them started shouting with pain/pleasure as the Stag changed angles and assaulted yet another set of organs through the impossibly, supernaturally, stretched walls of Rory’s insides. 

Rory was so high. He’d been slammed so many times, he’d lost count. Except for those few moments of clarity that Stag and forced on him, including the weird joke, he was possessed by no thoughts other than the consistent, rhythmic stretching of is hole. Rory was a hungry butt pig—always had been—but being stretched by this literal tree trunk of a cock had given him new feelings of fullness, of lust, of pain, and of overwhelming pleasure. He lost all sense of time, just feeling like his body was conquered and sucked out of him, time after time, fuck in—destroy—fucked out—the destroyed bits of him pulled out along with increasing bits of his insides. 

After about an hour of pounding Rory began to come down.  He became aware that the Stag was now punch fucking him, and every time the massive cock entered him, he felt the quick snap as every muscle in his pelvis  opened unnaturally wide. And so he began to grunt as the big cock entered him. 

The Stag smiled at him, his facing seeming far away,and said, “I am going to come.”

The Stag began fucking wildly, making Rory scream with every thrust. Suddenly, he felt it, the hot liquid of the charged sperm shooting like a geyser in his guts. It literally felt like the force of a firehose deep in his hole, gushing, burning like a dose of Tina, but without the scratchiness of the crystals. Suddenly, he noticed his entire body glowed blue for a few seconds, and as it did, all of his bruises and marks disappeared.  As he was aware of these things on one level, most of his awareness was taken up by the most massive anal orgasm of his life. Rory was a major butt cummer, and cruel men knew that it was relatively easy to trigger his boy pussy and torture him with a long, continuous, merciless string of rolling, so-pleasurable-they-become-painful, debilitating, anal orgasms. The little Latino chems master had an easy target when he’d made this buttboy orgasm with his supernatural gift. This was like that experience times one thousand.  Rory started screaming, his entire body convulsing, anal passages locking down hard on the giant supernatural cock. This triggered a second massive ejaculation for The Stag, as the boys velvet, steaming hole massaged its great length. The Stag was shouting with the gusto of a conqueror, knowing he’d owned yet another hole.

Rory was in more agony than ecstasy, feeling every muscle and joint  of his taught, fat-free pelvis and torso snap open as The Horn of Plenty took him. Now, in a final moment of submission, Rory let go, gave up himself, made his soul the offering The Stag had said the rites demanded. All resistance faded, he could feel dark forces, pure evil lapping at the edges. The blood in his veins, visible through his translucent, pale skin, somehow shone dark, with a malignant light. And as Rory felt his soul and body drift, close to death, the blue dionysisian energies swept in, gathered him up, and he was back in his body. The pain turned to pure ecstasy, as he continued to roll, quiver and shake. This lasted a full five minutes of objective time, a massively long orgasm, a supernatural sexual miracle. But for Rory, it felt like a lifetime.

[NSABB]

On 9/30/2025 at 9:16 PM, bottomboyam said:

Timmy Rides a Bull
 

Of all the men in the brotherhood, Pedro was the one who most liked to fuck a wrecked hole.  All of the men took pleasure in opening a tight hole or using a very sore mancunt in the days after hard use, or a hole so open you could jack off inside it, but Pedro loved to fuck a big open gash while it still wanted abuse.  And he’d waited to fuck Timmy because he knew his bull cock could grow to its greatest size ever inside the supernaturally-gifted twink’s loose hole. 

 

Timmy was up in the sling. His short black mop was matted with sweat and his body glistened. They’d given him lots of water and Gatorade, but the massive, slam-sized booty bumps meant he just sweated it out as he took it I’m.  The gorgeous tight muscle of the boys arms and torso were popping because he’d burned off what little body fat he had over these several days of pleasing the insatiable, super-naturally strong, men of the brotherhood. 

 

As Pedro slid his ugly, dripping, massive cobra meat into the blindfolded twink, Timmy arched his back and cried out, ‘Fuck that’s a thick, wide, dildo Daddy.”  Pedro grinned and pushed it home to the root as Timmy cried out.  Pedro roughly made out with the boy, who responded to Pedro’s rough handling like he was made for it. Pedro took the blindfold off the little twinks face and gave him a minute for his eyes to adjust. “That’s not a dildo, whore,” Pedro whispered quietly, “That’s a giant Latino cock at its normal hard size.”

 

Timmy blinked, suddenly aware, “Oh fuck, when I say those special words you’re going to core me out, aren’t you daddy?”  Pedro grinned, “Core you out so wide, wider than any toy or even big daddy Conrad’s stone cock.”  Timmy shivered and then paused. Pedro could feel the boy flex his hole around the big, difficult-shaped cock and then he could see it happen, dark, twisted desire rose from the boys core traveling along his colon and the boy pulled his legs back wide.  “Do it daddy, fuck me with that big bull dick,” he cried out, eyes again dark black,  “Fuck me!”

 

So Pedro fucked. And fucked. And fucked. Jerome grew rock hard, watching the huge, dark, rugged man ravish the gorgeous pale boy. Pedro looked good fucking anyone from German muscle studs to tall African basketball stars. But Pedro preferred beautiful boys—his own Bearer’s Companion was a slender, Spanish bullfighter who had traveled to Mexico City for a corrida (a bullfight) in the late 19th century and had disappeared after being seen entering a bar known to cater to men with strange tastes—and the contrast between his big body and a slender twink turned Pedro on like no other visual sight in the world. 

 

Well, other than what he was seeing now. The sight of his huge fat cock plundering a new twink hole. Timmy was in the sling, his arms up, and Pedro’s huge hands were linked behind his head, giving him ultimate purchase as he banged the twinks ass. Jerome was standing over them, stroking his hard meat, and occasionally giving the men little hits of poppers. Timmy was lost in the fuck, pushing his colon open with every thrust, as his body bagged to be taken deeper and wider. 

 

Pedro whispered, “Say the words, bitch, say the words.” And Timmy started chanting “I am your hole, fill me with your seed, I am your hole, fill me your toxic seed…” as he got to the second recitation, the magic kicked in. All of the lights went out completely and both Pedro and Jerome shouted as their red tattoos began to glow and burn. And then Timmy started shouting, “Fucking huge cock” as Pedro’s cock began growing like a giant rock hard inflatable. Pedro couldn’t slow down the fuck if he had wanted to, but he didn’t want to because suddenly the boys hole began to feel tight. His big bull cock kept growing and growing inside the boy, and Jerome just held the bottle of poppers open under Timmy’s nose, allowing his twink asshole to stretch and stretch. 

 

After 20 minutes, Pedro’s bull cock had nearly doubled in width and had grown several inches longer. Jerome had grabbed the pipe again: Timmy was needing all the help he could get.  His ecstacy was being tempered a bit by fear: Pedro’s cock felt like he was being fucked by a tree trunk. Jerome leaned in and whispered, “The only way to get through this is to just surrender.  Surrender to your innate need to be a hole, to be stretched and destroyed.”  Timmy opened his eyes, barely able to comprehend anything other than the feelings possessing his body, “More Tina, daddy, please.”  

 

Jerome knew there was no way the boy could manage the pipe, so he grabbed one of the vials and put a bumper head on. He held the boys head and steady as he could and gave the boy thee bumps—the equivalent of thrre short lines—then he went to his hole and began to run a steady stream of heavily-laced lube onto Pedro’s gigantic dildo sized cock.  

 

It took just a moment, before the boy’s hips opened wide and Timmy shouted “Rape my hole with your bull cock! Dark Lord, I accept my place in your universe. I am a nothing but hole to be destroyed.” At that moment Pedro erupted, balls deep, as Timmy shouted “Burn my soul with your dark seed, fuck, my hole is burning…burns…so bad….so good.”  Jerome watched in fascination, as Pedro shot wad after wad of his ancient and powerful seed into the boy. He could see the huge outline of the giant dildo-sized cock in the boys pale abs,, and then he watched in amazement as it grew again. This final spurt of growth of the massive cock stretched some previously untouched place inside Timmy’s abused boycunt and he began having a series of rolling full body-and-colon assgasms. Within seconds, this massage of his huge meat brought another shout from Pedro who gave the boy a second supernatural load. 

 

In turn the second load, promoted another assgasm in the little twink.  Jerome watched in astonishment as the boys body absorbed both loads.  First all of his veins turned black, then bright blue, and all of the moisture and thin layer of healthy body fat he’d lost over the days and days of hard use was restored.  This was a regular occurrence during ritual sex, when after absorbing supernatural sperm,  all of the bruises and welts a bottom had acquired in the hours of pain before the ceremony were erased. But Jerome had never seen it happen anywhere else. 

 

Pedro and Timmy however, were not aware of this. They were lost in the bliss of man-twink fucking. Pedro’s cock remained its full giant oversize, but the boy was so loose and in ecstasy from the dual doses of sperm and all the drugs, that his hole was welcoming the monster. Still the cock was so huge, every time Pedro would pull out his cock completely out, he’d bring with it an every growing twink cunt prolapse. He’d then pile drive in, promoting a shriek of ecstasy from Timmy. 

 

They fucked for a solid 20 more minutes before the big cock began to return to normal size. And still Pedro fucked, as Timmy’s loose hole squelched around his ugly fuckstick. Timmy’s body had absorbed most of the sperm, but it still foamed with pink foam—cum, piss, blood, lube, and the boys natural cunt juice.  Every ten strokes or so, Pedro would pile drive the hole, or radically fuck a different part of the loose cunt. And every time he did, Timmy would have another assgasm and make more pussy foam to froth around the huge cock. 

 

After a while, Pedro picked the boy up and Jerome and Pedro double fucked him standing up, holding the boy like he was light as a feather as they pounded the impossibly stretched hole. They used the boy for another one and a half hours, fisting him, fucking him, piss-fucking him, as he continued to periodically experience increasingly-painful assgasms as his high began to wear off. 

 

As Timmy began to feel the soreness in his hole, Jerome and Pedro began to slow things down. Enjoying  the heat and sensitivity of very used cunt, they would slowly deep fuck him, watching the play of need and pain as they changed directions. Then they would release a big spurt of chempiss and start a hard brutal fuck, watching the boy ride the brief opening of his cunt the chempiss provided and continue to fuck him until he tightened back up and was almost in tears. Then they would change places and start again.  

 

Timmy experienced these successive waves of agony and pleasure as endless, as if he existed no where but as this hole which needed nothing but both. Every time  they hurt him, he could feel dark forces lap at the fiber of his being from the dark black seed he’d encountered with Pedro’s second huge supernatural load. Then, as they filled him a spurt or two of chempiss and fucked him hard, his entire body with sing with the pleasure of the blue pure blood of pleasure the dark seed had morphed into as it healed him and opened him for the bull cock. 

 

Timmy was lost, unseeing, as the men changed places. But the the nature of the fucks changed, as first Conrad then Dimitri joined in the fuck. They lined their cocks up, each of the four men fucking his sore hole slowly and methodically, deliberating making him squirm and cry out, then each would delivery a spurt or two of chempiss and rail him. As they did so, each man made out with him, whispering dark and twisted thoughts about him and his hole interspersed with praise for his beauty.  As they passed him around in endless rounds of this, Dimitri’s fucks began to dominate his thoughts,  the periods of slow sore hole fucking longer, the pain more intense, interspersed with longer and longer periods of sheer ecstasy as his new lord’s cock plundered him. Finally, after several hours of this endless cycle, when they were alone, Dimitri lifted Timmy from the sling and carried him into the bedroom, still fucking the entire way.  There he continued to fuck and fuck the boy, pausing from time to time to drop a few grains of crystal in before railing the boy again. 

 

After another hour of this, Timmy’s hole was so swollen it stopped responding to crystal chempiss or poppers and so Dimitri gave him a final big load coating his insides with rope after rope of seed. Aster making the boy clean his cock, he made him kneel on his knees and Dimitri, cock still rock hard, grabbed an Ambien. He gave Timmy the pill and held out his cock and Dimitri filled Timmy’s mouth with piss to wash it down.  

 

Dimitri grabbed Timmy roughly up and lay him on his side in the bed with his head on one of the pillows and his legs tucked up. He climbed in beside the boy, lined his cock up, and speared the boy to the hilt in one shove, Dimitri’s hand muffling the boy’s scream. Dimitri then pisssed a massive load deep into the boys cunt. It was so much piss Timmy could feel it pushing deep inside and stretching his colon, but Dimitri just wrapped his arms around the boy and brought his legs up, trapping him with his guts burning with need and Dimitri’s hard cock plugging him. 

 

Soon, Timmy’s hole was buzzing from the fresh load of piss and his colon spasmed and stroked around it’s big live plug. But Dimitri seemed asleep, and all the spasming just seemed to make his cock harder. TImmy was amazed at the man’s ownership of him and his hole. If he moved even the slightest Dimitri’s cock would somehow grow and his grip on Timmy would tighten. And so for several hours he existed in a netherland, as the Ambien and his exhaustion fought with the dark needs reawakened in his hole. Eventually, as Dimitri had known it would, the Ambien won and Timmy fell into a deep sleep with a plugged hole, trapped in the arms of an ancient sex god. 

 

###

@jock4bro you luv gash cunted jockpussy to breed

[TaKinGDeePanal]

Holy fuckeroni! This is hoTTer than a thousand suns, @bottomboyam

[bottomboyam]

I am currently working on a the chapter where Timmy finally seroconverts and joins the order. But, in the meantime I found a pic that depicts Timmy’s body pretty accurately. This boys skin is too warm (Timmy’s skin is white, with no warm undertones) but his ass is very, very like this twinks.

 

 

[bottomboyam]

Timmy’s First Ritual Fuck

 

Timmy shuddered, chest low to the floor, his back burning with a ritual pattern of bullwhip marks. Six strokes—two to form an upside down cross and then a big “X” that ran from the front of his shoulder all the way across each of his curvaceous butt cheeks.  Cruel titclamps clamped both his nipples and then joined a chain that connected them to a clamp that bit into his sore cock head, keeping it flat against his body.  The chain was tight, and cruel little solid silver weights pulled on his tits and sore cock. His little cock was bright red, covered in welts, because his lord and master Dimitri had whipped it with a cock whip before striking it with a whip of electrical wire. Timmy’s body was utterly hairless.  Over his time of waiting for seroconversion, every single hair below his neck had been removed by laser, and at the very start of the Ritual, Dimitri had gently and reverently, shaved Timmy’s head. He spoken softly in his beloved boys ears, so softly that none of the other boys could head, “I am going to give you more pain than you’ve ever taken, more pain than I will ever inflict again. It’s essential to our joining—you must offer your body first to the Dark Lord, in the Rites of Pain, before the God of Revelry comes and we celebrate the Rites of Ecstacy.”

Timmy had known this all intellectually for weeks,  but here and now, with his body covered in welts and his tits and cock in agony, with his hole stuffed by the big metal fist of a life-sized solid-silver replica of Dimitri’s arm that protruded like an obscene tail out of his butt, he was feeling scared.  The thing was fucking heavy, and it was held steady by a crazy cart of solid walnut.  It was an ancient piece of silverwork, and Dimitri’s Dragon didn’t even remember which of the Crones had gifted it to him.  Apparently, it resized itself supernaturally to the size of each new bearers arm, out of sight in one of the Dragon’s many lairs deep in a mountain somewhere in Eastern Europe. 

Timmy was nearly in tears.  He was convinced he was going to be ripped apart by the giant silver diodo, and he didn’t know how he could take anymore pain. Anything his beloved master had done to prepare him, it just wasn’t enough. He wanted to start screaming that he couldn’t do it, but still he stayed put. Partially because kneeling  next to him was his best friend of 16 weeks, Jerome’s gorgeous muscle hunk of a boy, Jack, who was tenderly stroking Timmy’s hair—damp from sweat from his long ordeal—and whispering quietly in his ear. As Timmy’s sponsor (and budding best friend), it was Jack’s job to comfort Timmy, to keep him strong, to tell he could do it. Like Timmy, Jack’s pretty blond head of hair was shaven to match his hairless, perfectly muscular fireplug-hunk body—all the other companions, Conrad’s tall lanky party boy, Julio, and Daddy Pedro little former bullfighter, Julio Juan, had also shaven their heads. The taking of a companion was nearly the highest rite in their Brotherhood, and the highest rite an individual Coven could celebrate, and so all of the oldest traditions of submission and servitude had to be observed. All of the companions had been marked at the same time as Timmy, first with the slicing bullwhip marking a pattern, the slaves and their masters chanting—well, the slaves actually yelled/screamed the words, as the whip sliced their flesh, “We offer the Dark Lord this pain as a sacrifice.”

Timmy had taken longer than anyone in recent memory to seroconvert. He had gone nearly the whole 12 weeks that represented the biological end-limit of the process.  They knew he was poz—modern testing could detect infection within days and Conrad was a world-renowned HIV specialist—but until his conversion he could not be joined. Timmy had to set out two entire lunar cycles, missing the ordinary rites, and feeling uncertain and insecure. He knew he was bonded to Dimitri, but the process was incomplete. The other four Companions  in the Coven comforted him as best they could. They remembered the weird feeling of belonging, the bond that was so strong but somehow incomplete, that sense of a missing piece of one’s soul. 

Timmy had seroconverted in the early morning after the last full moon. Dimitri was not even home yet from the big afterparty, held at the vast club he and his Brothers owned, the world-famous Animal House. When he came home, he wept with joy, kissing Timmy tenderly and whispering sweet nothings in his ear, even as he greased up his massive cock and rammed it home inside the squealing, suffering aching boy. In fact, as Timmy got weaker and more sick over the next two weeks, Dimitri’s libido increased at least three fold, and he fucked Timmy more often and harder than ever,  so great was his pleasure that Timmy’s very DNA was submitting to his own.

Dimitri had been delayed from his first sweet fuck of his newly toxic boy, be use it It was very common for Covens in large cities to own a gay/queer nightclub and always the best in the the city. These dens of iniquity resolved around the very intersection of sex, drugs, and danger which powered the Brotherhood’s worship of the Janus-faced gods of pain and pleasure. And so, the Animal House was always especially busy and intense on the nights the Covens held their rites. And the music always followed the rhythm of the Coven’s secret worship as the DJ—always a bearer on these special nights—drove the beats in such a way that the club revelers aided and participated in the order’s worship, albeit unknowingly. 

Those members of the Coven who were not officiating in the rites enjoyed a glittering cocktails and cocaine party in the Coven’s huge public hall, located just a block away from Animal House. It was a gorgeous space, dramatically lit by torchlight, with beautiful tapestries around the walls, and it was always filled with gay luminaries from the city and beyond. Tonight, while Timmy and the others were prepared and then participated in the first of the rites of the Hours of Pain in the secret soundproofed basement, the monthly party was packed with gorgeous men and woman from all over the globe. Ostensibly they were all members of a major animal welfare charity or keen amateur zoologists. This was the reason the non-Cognoscenti, the muggles if you will, were told to explain why so many foreigners were present with gorgeous animal tattoos proudly displayed in their silk or linen togas. One could recognize the Bearers easily by their tattoos, but the Companions were only recognizable to the initiated by the quality of the gold cuffs and crowns they wore. Bearers and their Companions wore priceless antiques worked in solid, shimmering gold, usually with forms in the shape of the animal, with jeweled eyes, whose supernatural life they shared. 

While Timmy and company were having their cock and balls tortured and their backs sliced up open by cruel whips, many people from the Coven’s leaderships’ past were greeting one another, toasting with champagne and sharing discrete bumps of cocaine in corners—gay police officers were guests, after all. Rory was there, with his gorgeous, very tall very muscular, and very dark, Russian master bearing a Siberian tundra wolf.  The wolf’s grey brown coloring contrasted beautifully with the stud’s black, long, curly hair and dark skin. And in a surprise blessing, the Great Stag had sent the Eudaemon twins, Lars and Anders.  Rory was regaling his master and a group of intensely handsome Japanese Bearers he’d never met with tales of his days of servitude in the Temple with his arms around his companions during that time, the twins. 

As the clock approached midnight, the start of the Rites, the festival hall began to clear.  A select group of special friends, Bearers and Companions, all male or male-identified of course, for each Coven was segregated by gender—and then a large crowd of Coven members who were not supernaturals stayed behind. The other guests departed en masse for Animal House, just a few blocks away. There they knew the music would be dark and pulsing, as the power of their queer revelry—joined by a supernatural bond to the huge secret hall located directly underneath the huge club’s main dance floor—would help power the Rites of Offering. 

Once the striking, tall young black slave who was Master of Ceremonies for this party—feeling quite stressed, as he often had Jack by his side for this—had certified that all present bore the elegantly engraved cards of invitation, blood red the color of Dimitri’s dragon’s eyes, and that all the outer and inner doors were locked, he swept back the tapestries along the long back wall revealing the entrance to the subterranean ceremonial space. 

Inside the tunnel, each guest picked up a flaming torch and began the slow march to the beat of a distant drum. New guests oohed and ahhhed at the quality of the depiction of the Stag’s Great Forest—at 25 years, the Coven was young but it was hugely wealthy—and admired with wonder the enchanted ceiling depicting stars leading towards the shining moon that illuminated the big ceremonial hall. 

The hall was a large oval, and the walls were decorated with a detailed fresco of a clearing in the Great Stag’s Forest.  This would turn from dark night to bright morning when this, the third and final hour of pain, had concluded.   In the center of the space was the sacred Pentagram rendered in snowy white against a jet black floor. One man and one bound slave would take a point around the central circle, which due to the nature of tonight’s proceedings would be occupied by Timmy and Dimitri, as they were the absolute focus of the power of these Rites. 

All around the room sexual energy pulsed.  And once the gorgeous black emcee knew everyone was in place he rang the first bell. All around the room the99 men and99 slaves removed their tunics with practiced elegance. Hot male bodies of every size and shape glistened with sexual heat, every cock straining hard,  as the men bent and stowed their tunics and priceless gold body ornaments in the big walnut chests. With reverence, the civilian slaves and supernatural Companions removed leather arm bands and wristbands and cock rings from the chest. It was all each leather family’s own gear, placed with great attention to the seating chart, as carefully calculated as any elaborate gay wedding. For that’s what this was, only far more profound. 

As the slaves arrayed their masters’ bodies in gorgeous, leather gear, they offered small kisses to the body part, a lascivious kiss to a bicep, an adoring kiss to a much-desired Bear belly, or a small light one to a big fat penis so as to not trigger an orgasm. Then, in turn, their masters’ knelt and arrayed their beloved slaves, softly stroking their beautiful bodies and whispering tender words of encouragement. For despite these being highly experienced slaves, some with centuries of BDSM experience, the hour of pain during a high ritual was intense. All of the dark energy produced by the twisted, Tina-fueled thousands of revelers dancing to the darkest club music on earth upstairs at Animal House was already channeling into the walls, building a dark battery to release exactly at the hour of midnight. Individual worship spaces were just big enough for each man and his slave, and just big enough to apply a strap or a tawse, and to weight and torture balls, cocks, or tits. Another bell sounded, and the slaves assumed a position on the apparatus in front of them. It was flexible gear, solid walnut with black leather padding. It could be configured to anything from a fuck bench—perfect for a strapping, or—attached to the ceiling by the chains that hung just above the field of vision—as a sling.  

Once everyone was settled, the emcee indulged in a dramatic pause, allowing six beats of the drum. Those with supernatural vision could see that the massive crowd of dancers at the nightclub above jad generated a huge battery of dark energy, the walls pulsing to the beat of the drum, ready to be released in a wave of intense pain with the first squeeze of a ball or strike against flesh. The the emcee rang a huge, ancient brass gong, a gift to this temple by the Kyoto Coven were Pedro and Julio had lived in the 1950s as friends of the Coven, helping with the aftermath of World War II.

The assembled men chanted “The Dark Lord demands pain,” and then their slaves with leather paddle or ball hammer or punch to nuts. the same time. As the slaves groaned, screamed, and cried out, the walls were visibly throbbing and all the torches, which lined the aisles shifted to red flames and the pentagram also glowed red. Then a door slid open on the wall opposite the entrance and the sacred procession entered. 

At the head was one of the two civilian (non supernatural) members of the executive leadership of the Coven. Brother Mark was a big, tall muscly-plump bear, with dark golden brown fur, his hairy chest glistening. He carried a large lifelike mask of the Great Stag and he would be high priest tonight, and occupy the top point of the Pentagram, with his bound slave, a tall wiry Otter whose pretty, dark fur had been shaved. Immediately behind him, stood Dimitri, decked out in gorgeous black bejeweled leather gear, his love of fisting indicated in a thick row of rubies on his huge right bicep, his massive cock, somehow harder and more impressive tonight, enclosed in a gorgeous embossed leather cock ring. He carried a leash, which attached to a the wide, uncomfortable collar around Timmy’s head, that forced the gorgeoús slaves face upright as he crawled.  Behind Timmy stood Dr. Alex Fontaine, the French-Canadian psychiatrist who ran the Coven-sponsored center for queer mental health. He was tall, with a commanding Gallic nose and slim, very muscular body. His long thick cock, pierced with a huge Prince Albert, was raging hard. He held the leash of his Chinese-born pain pig slave, Han. (The striking slender African emcee was Brother Alex’s other slave.) Han was bound, as were all the Companions behind him, standing upright, his arms roped tightly behind him, making his massive chest bulge. Like Timmy and his brother offerings, his tits and penis were connected by a weighted chain and alligator clips. 

The group moved forward until all were just inside the huge room. Then Alex, acting in his capacity as Master of Pain, leaned forward and struck Timmy’s curvy ass with his crop. Timmy shouted, as best he could, “Fuck me with thy hard rod, Dark Lord, take my suffering as an offering.”  On this words Alex gently but firmly pushed another section of the huge metal dildo into Timmy, stretching his pussy lips even thinner.. Timmy cried out, his face a rictus of pain, and he burst into sweat afresh, as he, like all of the men, was not yet high. 

Then a gong sounded and all the tops produced a point, holding it high. Lars and Anders stepped forward, into the light carrying a gorgeous box carved with the images of Great Stag. Conrad and Dimitri burst into wide grins, the first experience of anything resembling levity in these solemn proceedings. They quickly schooled their expressions as the twins approached, and stopped in front of the big man playing the role of the Great Stag. They bowed their head sharply then opened the box and presented it to the big man.  They said loudly, in unison, “A gift from the Great Stag to honor his special relationship with this Coven.”  All around the room those who’d been in the Coven years ago when Conrad took his boy, Julio, there emerged little murmurs of excitement. The big man held the box aloft, inside gleamed dozens of loaded points, glowing with a mix of Tina and the sacred blue fluid of the Great Temple. Those who seen the identical gift given to Conrad knew that there was a point for every slave present. And that underneath, in the many layers of the ancient box, enveloped in gorgeous, ancient, black velvet, would be enough vials of the liquid to keep the Coven supplied for the next six lunar cycles. Several junior coven members appeared now, dressed in discrete black robes, and began distributing a vial to every member of the assembly. It would be consumed after the Great Binding was complete, after the hour of pain was completely and Timmy’s sweet pussy had milked a load from his Lord Dimitri, all the supernatural cocks had grown to size, and the Time of Revelry, the worship of all that was hedonistic, was in full swing. All around the room men sighed, it was a good to be associated with a Coven led by two of the Great Stag’s most favored brothers. 

The entire room gasped, a the twins produced another smaller box, with silver work of ancient beauty and a big onyx and silver spider’s web on top. Rory smiled darkly and squeezed his beloved master Igor’s shoulder hard. Rory knew that was the personal mark of the Twins of the Spiders, the big muscle Germans, born to a long line of the Temples servant, who performed the Rites of Pain with the offerings in the Great Temple. Conrad and Julio also shared a dark smile, as they knew what was inside. 

The twins nodded at the big man playing the Great Stag, tonight’s High Priest, and he stepped aside. They presented the box to Dimitri. “A gift,” Lars said, “A mark of affection from the Spider Twins for you, Lord Dragon.”  Dimitri was already smiling that same dark smile. He knew it was the same as the gift for Conrad had been those many years ago. He bowed his head sharply to Lars and Anders, acknowledging the gift. And opened it, looking at it reverently for a moment.  He then held it aloft. Nestled in more black velvet was a an ancient thick needle with a very long and ancient glass and silver syringe. Inside was a quantity of Tina perfectly calibrated to Timmy’s size and level of drug experience.  The entire thing was worked with a delicate filigree of silver spiders webs. Inside a substance black as night glowed with an unholy, toxic sexual light. Dimitri held it up, “Behold, the Dark Lord honors my union with the closest thing we can obtain of his own cursed strain.”  Dimitri paused and gulped, he knew Timmy would struggle to transition into the Rites of Ecstacy, as the substance inside the vial would bring out his most hidden needs for pain. Getting himself together, Dimitri spoke again loudly, “This is a blood point, drawn at the Great Temple Rites, from the black glowing veins of the Temple offering slave.  Drawn at the exact moment he has finally submitted to the total destruction of the Dark Lord, at the second before Dionysus comes to bring him back to light.  It is a rare and special gift, for it is very difficult to hold a slave’s arm still as he submits to the ecstacy of the Horn of Plenty’s destruction of his puss, and even harder to time when he submits.”

Dimitri sighed, it was a got meant as a kindness, the true reason behind the gift. The slam would transform little Timmy, making him a total pain whore on the level of Han or Rory or Jack, and while it would intensify his suffering, it would also open the door to his lifetime enjoyment of pain and sexual suffering. Lars held out his hand, took Dimitri’s original slam, and said “We will keep this safe for your beloved’s first pleasure slam, at a time you determine during the Rites of Ecstacy, the dark intent and dark prayers uttered during its preparation will only enhance his bond with you, his pleasure, and his joy. You know all this Lord Dragon, be at peace with our Dark Lord, his demands, and his servants.”

After Dimitri nodded, his face a mask now without emotion, he handed his original prepared point over to the twins who retreated to their position near the emcee. The gong rang again, and the points were again presented.  The entire assembly chanted “With this drug, we connect ourselves to the energies of the Dark Lord, we offer the pain that follows as our sacrifice.”  Then points inserted in slave necks, arms, or cocks at precisely the same moment—Covens always acted in strangely connected ways during the Rites—then registered, then pointed, in unison.  As the slam hit home, and the needles were withdrawn the men stood and grabbed their instruments of pain. As the assembled slaves started shouting in response to their punishment, the dark energy from the walks began flowing, as a wind blowing, all the torches went out and then sprang back with an even more intense red.  Brother Alex, as Master of Pain, unhooked the metal dildo prepared to push it a bit further into the boy.  But Timmy, his entire body glowing black with the Dark Lords energy, shouted with great gusto, “Fuck me with thy hard rod, Dark Lord, take my suffering as my offering.” At that his hole stretched wide and the entire length of the dildo slid into his guts, the big metal visible through his perfect white abdomen, like a silver ghostly alien. Despite the ways the dark energy inside him made Timmy crave pain and punishment, he still cried out as the huge tool stretched him deep and had. Then each man in the Pentagram delivered one punishing crack of his bullwhip on the back of his offering. Around the room, pain was inflicted as they all chanted the ritual words.

The Procession proceeded apace, stopping six times, for the recitation of the ritual words of offering and the infliction of agony to all the slaves via bullwhip. By the end, all of the offerings were staggering, mouths open and drooling, their minds lost in a euphoria triggered by the big slams and the intense pan they had endured on their sacred journey. Yet somehow they always chanted on cue, saying the ritual words of offering. Finally, they reached the Pentagram and the men and their slaves each took their places. Timmy remained on his hands and knees, in the center point, with Dimitri behind him. The slave was facing forward, as the ritual chants about pain and the Dark Lord continued. The dark wind blew stronger and more powerful, ebbing and flowing with the solemn, beat of the drum. Those with supernatural sight could see the dark energies flowing into the boy, even as his ass and tummy bucked and sagged under the weight of the heavy metal arm embedded inside it and his back bled from his fresh welts.  The metal arm inside him now glowed with the same dark light that shone in his veins. Timmy wiggled and struggled, and the arm pushed itself out, so Dimitri slowly pushed it back, then began to actively use the big thing as a dildo, slowly building in tempo, as Timmy groaned and cried out, his face a mask of dark desires. Timmy was in pain, but the dark slam had changed him, made him crave the abuse more than unaltered Tina ever had. Around him, his brother Bearers had been affixed to their punishment benches, flexible apparatuses exacty like those in the audience, while their masters struck their backs and asses with belts, straps, canes, and tawsess. Their eyes were black, as the dark winds used them as focal points, channeling the wind into the lines of the Pentagram, and ending in a swirl above Timmy’s back before entering his soul. 

Suddenly, a final Gong sounded. The High Priest shouted, “This is the final moment of offering, the last  of the Great Hour of Pain. Offer to our Dark Lord your deepest pain.” He then donned the Great Stag mask and picked up his whip.  Around Timmy the Bearers and Masters drew bullwhips, and starting striking their slaves, as the slaves shouted and cried out. The dark winds turned blood red, and continued to come from, the walls, from the assembled then into Timmy, channeled through the points of the star and each bearer. Dimitri did not draw his whip, as everyone expected, but instead reached into a box and produced a large ball, at the end of which was a plug. The entire thing gleamed with a thick coating of crystal. He quickly screwed the thing onto the end of the huge dildo jutting from Timmy’s hole, and began to push, driving the replica of his massive fist even deeper into Timmy’s hole. Timmy came fully into himself and began screaming, his face a mask of anguish.  As he screamed, he cried, “I offer every part of myself to you Dark Lord, take me.”

After the big ball was midway in, Timmy stopped screaming. He lowered his chest to the floor, his arch perfect, and he silently accepted the huge stretch, tears streaming down his face. His veins still coursed with dark black evil blood, his body shuddered in pain.  Once the ball was seated, Dimitri picked up his bullwhip and began slowly repeating the brutal pattern of welts on his back drawing a fresh line of blood. Timmy’s back glowed black, so deep was his lost in the Dark Lord’s embrace, that his blood did not run red. With each blow, he screamed, “Pain,” then “Pleasire,” over and over, “Pain” “Pleasure.”

When Dimitri had rewelted the boy the ritually required three times he held the whip aloft, and shouted “we beseech thee, seal our bond, we have offered up a great sacrifice of pain.”  Suddenly, the enchanted ceiling, which had been swirling with windy skies turned pitch black, and all torches and light were extinguished. The entire crowd held its breath, then their  was a crack of red lightening coming from the walls and the flash channeled itself through the offerings—slaves and bearers—and entered Timmy through the huge plug in his hole. For just a second his whole body glowed red, and he convulsed and screamed as the big dildo ficked in and out of his ass six times, as if possessedn, the big monster pulled itself completely out,  and then rammed itself to the root of the ball deep inside Timmy’s stretched and now punished hole. The thing glowed with an evil, malignant light, and symbols of dark alchemy flashed in red all along its length. Then, as Timmy screamed in agony his body convulsed and after the sixth hard full fuck from his fist to the end of the huge ball, Timmy’s body expelled the massive heavy dark thing. As if mesmerized, Dimitri moved forward and sank his cock into Timmy’s sloppy, loose, prolapse. The Dark One had sealed their union. 

The moment Dimitri and Timmy were joined in their unholy union, the Crowd above in Animal House also reached an orgasmically dark moment in a driving house set. The DJ was a Bearer of great antiquity, but who appeared as a tatted, dark haired, daddy of 60.  Lord Bull, Marius Maritinelli, was in touch with the proceedings in the chamber below through his supernatural senses. He was shirtless, and his big muscle chest was covered in salt and pepper fur. He had worked the massive crowd into an absolute frenzy that night. Kneeling under the DJ table was a 20-year-old Thai boy, as pretty as they come, who had approached him in the bathroom line before his set.  Presently, his pretty red mouth was full of DJ Bull’s huge cock. He’d taken the boy to the  green room, filled his hot little pussy with Tina, and then plugged him with a relatively easy plug—he’d be wearing it for all of DJ Bull’s six hour set.  He’d carried the boy concealed in a blanket to the DJ booth high above the crowd, and the boy had serviced him, as a fuck hole, a mouth hole, and as a urinal during his set.  DJ Bull was famous among DJs for never needing a bathroom break—because DJ Bull ALWAYS had a hot Asian boy or a hot jock handcuffed on his knees for his sets. 

As Dimitri’s hugely engorged cock entered the delicious, fiery, satanic depths of Timmy’s ass, several things happened at once. For Dimitri and Timmy, that first fuck represented their blessing by the Dark Lord, and the strings that would tie them together for centuries tightened further. At the same time, DJ Bull flipped a switch which gradually brought his driving, fuck-me beats into the Sacred Chamber below. He also, in that exact moment—experienced an earthshattering orgasm of his own down the grasping, velvet throat of the pretty Thai boy. Concurrently, every male in the back room and the maze of Animal House came at precisely the same time. The dancing crowd experienced a surge of dark, ecstatic energy as well, and some of those gurating against each other found that they had creamed their pants in ecstacy. In the chamber beneath, all the men were fucking.  Even the emcee, overwhelmed with the dark sexual power, was getting boned—in his case DP’d by Lars and Anders.  

As they fucked, rhythmically and hard, pounding and pounding to the music, the dark winds began to cease,  and slowly, gradually, over the course of about 1/2 hour, the room began to lighten.  The enchanted sky turned lighter until it shown a clear blue. Upstairs DJ Bull was transitioning out of Dark House, getting ready for the next DJ. This meant the music in the chamber grew less intense as well, and the mood became more and more ecstatic. It was almost time to worship the God of Revelry. 

For the experienced guest, looking back on Dimitri and Timmy’s Joining in Pain (the name the brotherhoods thinkers called the last hour of the Rites of Pain when the event celebrated a joining) all would agree it was one of the most powerful they had seen. No one would say it was THE most powerful, as these events were always extremely intense, and every time one attended or participated in one, the first thought was that it was the most intense ever. For Timmy, of course, it was the most powerful experience of his life. Dimitri’s dragon had not been joined in several hundred years, but even he thought it was powerful, almost frighteningly so. Especially since Dimitri had never seen the ball and plug accessory for the metal arm before. Much later, nearly 6 hours, as the entire congregation prepared to decamp to the dance party above, he would remember that in the throes of the Dark Trance Timmy had taken the massive thing after he had pushed its impossible length into the boy. 

And so Dimitri went to look and found the box. He noted first that that box bore the hallmark of the Twins of the Spider. Inside was a small black card, with white handwriting on it.  “A gift from Lord Goat, High Priest of the Undertemple.”  The Undertemple was the vast cavernous space beneath the Great Stag’s Temple devoted entirely to worship of only the Dark Lord. Rory had been taken there and disappeared from the Great Temple for four days before Hans, Karl, Lars, and Anders could find and retrieve him. He’d needed an intravenous drip of nutrients, saline, and six vials of the Great Stag’s blue drug to heal him, as the rites in the Undertemple were famously rough on bottom slaves. 

Upstairs DJ Bull had finished his set, and was making out openly with the naked Thai boy in the DJ booth. DJ Dionysus, Lord Toucan, Ubish Balam Canek, a Mayan bearer with a gorgeous bright toucan tattoo, was slowly and steadily bringing the crowd into joy. Beneath him, a gorgeous Swedish muscle boy knelt, his massive arms bound tight behind him. providing Lord’s Toucans’s massive 12 inch Mayan muscle tool all the love and devotion it inspired. DJ Bull knew he should stay to congratulate the Coven, but he just couldn’t miss the chance to plunder the Thai boy’s pretty hole.  So he decided to bring the boy back to his suite, fuck him up and use him, and then bringing him to the Sunday afternoon tea dance in a mask, caged and naked, and bound with a slave collar and leash. That way he could eat some delicious Thai cake and fulfill his obligations to this Coven. 

Below the dance floor worship of Dionysus was in full swing. The men were all still naked, of course, but most of the leather was removed and replaced with their gold finery. Most men kept a piece of two of leather, especially cock rings, and maybe they’d wear their gold armbands next to their red leather ones. The fucking was rigorous, passionate, and joyful. Some of the masters reclined while their slaves pleasured them and the binary pairings were blurring, with men lying on their backs as two slaves fisted themselves on his mitts while the two fist-riding slaves serviced two other masters’ cocks.  Within the Pentagram, though, the master-slave binaries prevailed. Until Timmy brought Dimitri to climax with his pussy while chanting the sacred words, all the wounds of every slave in the room would remain. Dimitri was in no hurry, though.  He’d felt orgasm approach and held it off at least twice already. Timmy’s hole was the hottest and most velvety it had ever been, but until all trace of glowing black left the bottom sluts veins, they could not consummate their union under the protection of the God of Pleasure. Dimitri put Timmy on his back, fucking him passionately, engaging with him through kisses and soft words of love, and so gradually, over a 40 minute span, Timmy came back from the dark. As he did, it was like he was suddenly fully aware of just how much pleasure the Greeks massive 14 inches, and how much harder he wanted to be fucked. Now he was fully the little fuck pig Dimitri had creating, demanding “Harder, please, daddy, make my pussy come with your big fat cock.  I love your cock my lord, I love you my lord, I love your cock, I love your fist, and love….”

Dimitri smiled, pounding harder and deeper, “Say the words, boy, say the words, let both our Gods bless our union.”  And so Timmy began the chant, soon taken up  by first his brothers, then all the slaves in attendance:  “I am your hole, fill me with your seed, I am your hole, fill me your toxic seed.” As he sensed that there was about to be a fiery orgasm, Lord Toucan, DJ Dionysus, began to pound his muscle pigs throat harder.  He kept the music happy but slowly turned up a bit of a fuck-me beat, hard, but happy. Below, the energies were flowing, now both blue and black wind blowing, with the enchanted sun shining bright. Then, suddenly, right as every top assembled neared their pinnacle, all light went out, the torches flamed alternated gold and red, and  every bearer—whether celebrating in the Pentagsam or not—felt their cocks began to grow, and grown, and grow.  Throughout the room bottom slaves shouted as they felt the big tools expand, as all those with supernatural size began to work their way deeper, stretch their boys holes wider, and their ownership of them once more renewed. 

Timmy was crying out in a mixture of ecstacy and agony, as Dimitri’s dragon cock, perhaps emboldened by all the space the giant metal dildo had created, was growing to nearly double its largest size he’d ever taken. He could feel how the dragon cock pushed and pushed and stretched and stretched. He knew that if his master were to pull out his cock out now, his masters fervent wish to bury his armpit hair in his little slaves butthole would be fulfilled. But he also felt something new, something he had not felt the few other times his magic pussy made his beloved’s cock change shape and grow in size.  He understood what the others meant when they said the fuck felt like an exploration, as if its was the dragons way of getting so deep inside him that nothing about Timmy’s body or soul would ever be hidden from his Lord Dimitri. He felt Dimitri fuck and fuck him, not just the man’s massive cock,  grotesquely oversized inside him as the Dragon took him, inch by inch, but also Dimitri’s mind and soul fucked him, tearing down his selfhood, possessing it, and then binding his soul and the rest of his days to Dimitri. And then, as Timmy and his brothers continued to chant, Timmy saw the decision the cock demanded he make, and he made it. 

As Timmy let go, submitted his entire being to Dimitri, his chants became a need, born of dark hunger inside. And then, there was a flash of blue light and Timmy screamed, as suddenly, for just 30 seconds, Dimitri’s cock was replaced by the Great Stag’s horn of plenty. Timmy’s pelvis spasmed and broken open, his hole opened out like a snake’s mouth, and for those thirty seconds  Dimitri’s disappeared and the Great Stag and his massive Horn of Plenty fucked him, the Stag smiling at him and raining the blessing of Dionysus on him. It all happened to fast that in the next instant he felt Dimitri’s dragon cock spurt burning, toxic, pleasure inside him.  Timmy screamed again, overwhelmed by waves and waves of ecstacy, his boypuss rolling and roiling with orgasm after orgasm.  Then, Timmy’s cock suddenly got rock hard and startingspewing rope after rope of cum, Timmy felt it: the path to his beloved’s mind and soul. Feeling the connection he craved like heroin finally completed, Dimitri broke into a joyful smile, and still fucking—and coming—in the hottest ass he’d ever fucked, he leaned down, removed the collar,  brought his boys face up, making out with him as tears of joy ran down their faces. 

The Hour of Revelry lasted just a formal hour, before it began to be less a sacred sexual ritual and more of a joyful celebratory orgy, of the kind that any open minded gay couple might host with their friends on their own nuptials. Most people stayed around for two to three hours.  It was, of course, a great honor to be invited to fuck the newly bound, and Dimitri and Conrad delighted in helping Timmy- who was in a dreamy smiley state, intoxicated by the blue drug, looking for all the world like a boy who’s done some super high quality x—select the men he wanted. He of course invited Brother Mark and Brother Alex to fuck him first.  Not only was it protocol, as they were the highest civilians in their Coven, but he’d enjoyed a long weekend serving each of them over the last weeks and found them both incredibly hot. He then asked for Rory’s Russian, and then asked Jack, Julio, and Julio Juan to select a personal favorite for his next fuck. It escaped no one that Jack chose a top bearer who was his exact twin if Jack were a 6’5” top with a ten inch Irish prick. Everybody knew that Jack himself would eventually become more than Timmy’s friend, but also his fuck buddy (in fact, a pool had started in the Coven the night the two boys met preceding the date).  Jerome had felt it, when Timmy and had met those many weeks ago: for the first time in all the years Jerome and Jack had been together, Jack wanted to sink his hard eight inches into Timmy’s womanly ass and rut like a pig. 

And so Timmy played, freed completely for the first time of shame, and enjoyed directing and managing his pleasure and the pleasure of his friends.  He urged Dimitri and Conrad to wander off and plunder whoever they desired, and he thrilled that he could feel Dimitri’s pleasure mixing with his own, even if his Lord was out of sight. Timmy spoke now with a new frankness, his mind transformed by his baptism in the forces of Dark and Light.  For instance, he made out with Rory and Rory’s Lord Vlad while Vlad railed him, praising Lord Vlad on his fabulous body, his fabulous uncut cock, and the way the gorgeous hunk power fucked his second ring. He did not blush as man and after man asked if they could fist him. He sweetly told them no, not tonight, but he looked forward to taking their arms at the orgy being held tomorrow early afternoon, as the tea dance wore down. He used the little cards Jack had prepared guaranteeing a fuck or first to the bearer at the party the next night. 

Finally, reluctantly, the orgy broke up. It was approaching two in the morning and they wanted to present Timmy on the dance floor. There were thousands of men and women from across the globe, members of Covens far and wide, who had not been able to attend either the cocktail party or the sacred Rites. And so Timmy and Dimitri owed it to them to appear. 

And so the members of the Coven retired to the gorgeous baths, modeled after Greco-Roman ones, but—with the exception of sure shots and rainshower heads— and began and joyful, playful sexy clean up. Soon all were glittering and handsome again, arrayed in fresh dance clothes, tiny shorts in sheer fabrics on slaves, and masculine tight jeans or leathers for Bearers and other masters. Most dropped an ecstacy, and made sure the hidden zipper pockets on their arms and wrist bands, their jock straps contained their nights supply of trail mix or Tina, or Ketamine or all of the above.  And then the joyful group began dancing up the sloping passage that joined their temple to the huge VIP area of one of the world’s greatest nightclubs. It was time to celebrate. And Animal Hoise was ready for its hosts. 

 

Xxxx