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DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The characters in this story have been made up. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions or attitudes. This is story is intended for adult entertainment only. All Rights Reserved © 2017 LITTLESALLY666

STORY CODES: LGBT themes, Incest, Cohesion, Corruption, Cuckold, Lolita, NC, Rape, Sadism, Pedophilia, Snuff, MC, Demons, Evil themes, Blasphemy

AUTHORS NOTES: For my dearest friend `Sandra in Hell’, you are truly Satan’s Daughter to me. And thanks to my new but reluctant friend (hidden dream), known only as ‘S’ – Thanks for the inspiration for this chapter.

CREATED: 12.04.2015

“Nightmare” evokes the modern word for a female horse but the terms are wholly unrelated. The word derives from the Old English “mare”, a mythological demon or goblin who torments others with frightening dreams. Subsequently, the prefix “night-” was added to stress the dream-aspect. The word “nightmare” is cognate with the older German term Nachtmahr.

They say that nightmare arises from one’s complex that contains residue from some unresolved issue. A nightmare is an unpleasant dream that can cause a strong emotional response from the mind, typically fear or horror but also despair, anxiety and great sadness. People who have frequent nightmares may fear falling asleep, and being plunged into their worst dreams. Some nightmares are repeated every night. People who are awakened by their nightmares cannot get back to sleep, which creates a circle of artificial insomnia.

With the dramatic death of her parents, twelve year old Sally Johnson was adopted by her psychologist, Dr. Dairy Harvey, together with her sister Elisa, aged six and her brother Peter, aged eight. Dr. Harvey’s lawyer, Ms Paula Winchester, had taken care of all the legal aspects. The five of them shared a secret about Sally’s identity and an understanding of the misinterpretation of Thessalonians 2:3, that talked about the ‘man of sin’ who would be revealed, that the false prophet it spoke of was in fact Jezebel, the goddess of fornication, the true antichrist and the “Daughter of Satan”.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth Jasmine Mason, who it seemed, lives a double life. In one life she was the dutiful and staunch Christian housewife to John Mason, a public servant and senior attendant at their local Catholic Church. She is also the caring mother to their bespectacled and studious ten-year-old daughter, Lucy.

In her other life, that began by a curiosity that led her wayward towards a new self-realization. In this alternate view of herself she dredges the Internet looking for the most sordid of perversities, praying to the devil and seeking to fornicate and ride her demon lovers.

Maybe little Sally Johnson’s guile could nudge her into the demonic supplication she seeks. Good. Evil. Which one will prevail?

Elizabeth Jasmine Mason had married very young. She had been only sixteen when she met and married her husband John with the blessing of her conservative parents. All her life, she had considered herself as a good and respectable Christian housewife and caring mother. Now some twenty years later, she looked at her life with some critical analysis of a journey of acquiescence. What had she done and who had she become? Had she been a good Christian, worthy of her faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, or had she fallen short of what the Lord expected of her pious existence?

John had been a reasonable provider. He worked hard at his job as a public servant with local municipal authority. He was gone from nine to six, five days a week; played lawn bowls on Saturday, meeting for a drink with his friends at the pub afterwards. He was a senior attendant at their local Catholic church on Sunday.

Their bespectacled and studious daughter, Lucy, was now ten years old. She was an awkward but very independent child. She seemed to be doing all right at her schoolwork, but struggled with the family church commitments and had a problem making new friends. She mostly kept to herself and cared not for the opinions of others.

Elizabeth could not put her finger on it, but she felt dissatisfied with it all – with her lot in life. It was as if she was waiting for something profound to happen and it never did. Was this the life that Jesus had intended for her? She prayed for the comfort of knowing what to do next, but no great revelation seemed to be there.

Her husband slept in a separate room in recent times due to his serious snoring problem and this left Elizabeth alone at night – with the exception of Saturday night, when they made love. Making love comprised of Mr. Mason laying on top of her in missionary position, grunting, breathing heavily and ejaculating inside of her. It was a process that was usually over in about ten minutes. He would then roll over and go straight to sleep. Elizabeth would get up. First, she would go to the bathroom and wash herself. Most nights, she would quietly look in on Lucy to make sure she was sound asleep and then went back to her own room. There, she would light a candle and place it on her bedroom altar next to the statuette of the Mother Mary and the wooden crucifix draped with her rosary. She would say a prayer and try to sleep as well.

Sometimes she could not sleep. Sometimes she would lay awake contemplating her fugue. Her bible had been her companion in those times of spiritual need. She would read and re-read her favorite scriptures; her paternoster to Mother Mary would ask for the strength of fortitude, to continue to be best wife and mother she could be.

For her thirty-second birthday present she had asked her husband for a laptop computer and at night, when she could not sleep, she would find it relaxing to read from the various Christian and Catholic blogs and websites that she perused. It was a time of self-discovery as well as questioning for the beliefs she held onto so tightly. Did God hear her prayers? What was the Lord’s grand plan for her? What signs should she look out for?

It was during one of these nights that she happened upon a Christian website that showed an odd image of what was described as the Baphomet. This demonic being had the exposed breasts of a woman and the erect penis of a man. It seemed out of place. Strange. The obscene image was so controversial to her. The post spoke of a warning against the temptations of Satan and the context seemed to be nothing more that a sound reminder that evil was real, omnipresent and that every good Christian needed to on guard to protect themselves and their loved ones against such wickedness. It questioned the origin of nightmares – were they demonic attacks or visions from God? It asked why would Jesus allow such torment and anxiety to visit the faithful. But in questioning it gave an answer that God was possibly testing us, maybe even to strengthening us. It said that God was building an army against the powers of darkness – that every dream was a message from God Almighty.

She studied this evil beast, and despite her initial distaste, it seemed to spike her curiosity for some incredulous reason. The fact that it had this effect on her disturbed her sense of Christian goodness greatly.

“Holy Mother of Christ!” She whispered in benediction.

The post when on discussing about the existence of night demons that could attack good Christian men and women, even their children; that these types of nightmares were much more than just involuntary scary imagination. There was a divine message in their vivid and disturbing content that awakened their victims from nocturnal torment to a sense of arousal, agitation, large pupils, sweating, and increase blood pressure in reaction.

“God works in mysterious ways.” She said to herself.

She noticed that it had been posted on the website by someone going by the name littlesally666. She clicked on a link in the article that took her to another blog entitled ‘RITUALS OF THE TRUE GOD’ that was filled with even more alarming, highly blasphemous and sexualized images. Elizabeth gawped and blushed in complete shock. She felt nausea well up inside her guts. Of course, she had known about the Internet being a place where you could find immoralities, uncensored nudity and even pornography – and she had taken the necessary steps to guard against such inappropriate and shameful material by blocking this type of thing. But these images were beyond aberrant – images of highly sexualized red-skinned demons playing with their own disgusting long penises.

In a panic, Elizabeth quickly closed her laptop and drew in a sharp breath. She felt a weird shivering, like butterflies filling her stomach. Ashamed of what she had just seen, she pulled the blankets up around her in the gloominess of her room and closed her eyes.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation so why should I be afraid… the Lord is my light and my salvation so why should I be afraid… the Lord is my light…” She repeated to herself over and over. Eventually she drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

Tossing and turning, her unconscious mind conjured up strange and wicked visions. Had her world suddenly gone crazy? Was this a test from God? She felt the presence of evil all around her. In the vividness of her dream she witnessed red-skinned creatures, androgynous sex demons, preoccupied with either fornicating or sexually abusing unfortunate young children – some only the her daughter’s age; all the while other godless adults looked on voyeuristically as they too indulging in either revolting acts of same-sex couplings or self-abuse.

Elizabeth awoke with a single gasping breath and sat up in the pitch black. Her heartbeat elevated. Her nightdress saturated in sweat. She felt an incredible heat between her legs. Without thinking, she reached beneath her clothing to find her own vagina feverish and sopping wet. The bedroom was filled with an undeniable smell of her own sexual arousal. Tentatively her fingers brushed against her hypersensitive outer labia and then pressed directly against her engorged clitoris. A shuddering wave of unwanted intense pleasure rocked through her whole body.

“Eerrrghhuuuuuu…” She moaned uncontrollably.

Elizabeth could not explain what had happened. In fact, she pretended to herself that nothing had happened. Was God testing her? Was this a sign – an oblique answering to her questions? All through the next day, she worked tirelessly at her household chores as if the very act of cleaning home was to purify her self. But come evening, after dinner, when all had headed off to bed, she felt a sharp knot in her guts, turning in iconoclastic anticipation.

As usual her husband kissed her goodnight and they parted company. She checked in on her daughter who was busy with her homework assignment.

“Ten minutes and then lights out, OK?”

“Yes mom.”

Elizabeth locked her bedroom door and leaned back against it – a simple act, but a very telling one. She never locked her bedroom door. She had nothing to hide. She was a good wife and a caring mother. But tonight she did not want to be disturbed. Elizabeth turned off the main bedroom light, leaving only the altar candles to illuminate the room. She pulled the dressing mirror over towards the bed and angled the mirror surface so that she could see herself as she got into bed. Instead of donning one of her plain nightdresses, she stripped from her clothing and climbed straight into the cool bed sheets. Sitting up against the pillows, she rested the laptop upon her bear thighs and draw in long breath as if starting off from exactly where she had left off the night before.

Opening the laptop, her browser had remained on the same page from the previous night. The initial surprise was gone, but her heart still raced with lewd anticipation. The same shocking images confronted her. Red-skinned sex demons. Long throbbing phallic wands of malicious flesh. Her nightmarish melee still fresh in the foremost of her mind – a satanic orgy of unimaginable horror and sexual violence. The sight of naked young flesh, white and innocent, being proffered to these demonic creatures by their human aficionados: of which she was one. She rutted blissfully against her hand as her fingers found their mark – one hand stroking the laptop track-pad and the other stroking her aching clitoris.

The blog was filled with prurient content and blasphemous comments from a multitude of contributors. She could not believe the depths of the depravity she was reading. As Elizabeth perused the editorial her eyes settled on the identity of one of the bloggers whose name she recognized as littlesally666. She clicked to send a personal message. Although she felt reluctant to write, the power of curiosity drew her uncontrollably forward – like a moth to a flame.

“Hello littlesally666 … I’ll start by admitting my own surprise at emailing you at all. I came across your blog. As a churchgoer, as a wife, and as a mother, I was appalled and disgusted at its content. I would ignore it as quiet perversions; I have never felt it is my place to judge someone on their sexual preferences, no matter how depraved. But there is something that draws me to this in an unexpected way, which I am trying my best to understand, albeit concerned for my own moral shortcomings. Please take this as praise … Liz”

Once sent, she immediately wished to retract it. Regret. Had she exposed herself unnecessarily? But she could not. A return message popped back.

“I’m naked and touching myself. Are you?”

Elizabeth froze… but her of her fingers with a mind of their own typed a three-letter response.

An image appeared in her mailbox. Elizabeth hesitated then opened the attachment to find the image of a torso, a young, gracile and hairless vagina stuffed with a phallic crucifix – looking closely, Elizabeth could clearly see the body of Jesus Christ buried up to his face in pink cunt flesh. The little metal figure glistened wet with vaginal secretions. So blasphemous. Her mind was whirling in a tarantella.

“Oh my…” She stopped herself from in mid sentence, not wanting to take the Lord’s name in vain. Was this another test from God? She made the sign of the cross, but never looked away. Her fingers gouged at her hot cunt, thrusting in and out, faster and faster.

“You like?” Messaged the sender.

“YES.” She responded.

Another file arrived almost immediately. This one was short video file. Elizabeth opened it up to see the same scene, same torso, and same crucifix. The video played. In the video it was clear that this was an under-aged girl – about eleven or twelve maybe at most. It shocked Elizabeth. She was neither a pedophile nor a homosexual – so why was she so turned on by this obvious Sapphic scene? The young hand in the video was moving the crucifix in and out of her tiny slit. Her young voice chanted explicitly, blasphemously.

Elizabeth’s own fingers jammed themselves further up herself, thrusting harder and harder.

“Grrrhhhhhhhhhhhh…” She came hard, bucking against her hand for the second time in two nights.

“You like?” Messaged the sender again.

‘”YES.” Insatiate, she panted and typed.

Elizabeth burned with mischievous prurience. She was going straight to hell! What was God’s plan? It seemed volte-faced? All her life she had been pious, righteous, thinking about to serve her Almighty God; yet here she was masturbating feverishly over such a pernicious act. She didn’t care.

“Fuck it! Fuck it all!” Elizabeth panted as she recovered from her orgasmic delight.

Replaying the video over and over. Another powerful orgasm washed over her. She brought her sopping wet hand to her noise and smelt the cunt juices that saturated her fingers. Tenuously her tongue flicked out to taste her own salty slime. She licked and sucked at her digits. The piquancy taste made her groan again. She wanted to lick out this pubescent hairless slit in the video. She wanted to go down upon this budding ripe child that was only slighter older than her own daughter, and milk her delicious cunt juices directly from the source.

“More?” Asked the sender.

“YES…” Replied Elizabeth.

Another two image files and a video appeared. She keenly opened the picture files she continued to vigorously stroke her engorged clit eager to reach another mind-numbing climax. The two picture files showed firstly the face and upper body of an angelic young girl with pure white flesh, her flat boyish chest and pounced nipples excited Elizabeth in a way she had never expected. The young girl’s hands held the penis-like crucifix up to her face. Then next picture showed a close of her childish face, her pink little tongue fervently licking the residue from the twisted metal body of Jesus Christ. Elizabeth groaned in her new sense of appreciation. Hot. So hot! So fucking hot! The video showed the girl talking to the camera whilst masturbating with the cock crucifix, one hand thrusting the implement harder and harder into her vaginal opening, while the other manipulated her immature clitoris.

“Fuck Jesus. Fuck Jesus Christ… Fuck Mother Mary… Fuck God! Cum and worship Satan with me! Jezebel, burn incense unto BAAL.” Cried the girl in the video as she performed her inveigling act.

Inspired, Elizabeth grabbed her crucifix from her bedroom altar. She inverted the sacred object and sucked the longer crosspiece to lubricate its wooden hardness. She watched herself in the mirror as she began to rub the image of Christ against her sopping wet cunt. Yes. Delight. The carnal glee glowed in her mirrored face. She felt bereft, depraved and all delusions of godly purpose were gone.

“Fuck Jesus… grrrrrrggghhhhhhhhhhh…” Cried Elizabeth out. She tried to muffle the sound into her fist as she bucking uncontrollably against her crucifix, in an unalloyed succession of orgasmic crescendos.

John Mason looked over the so-called invitation print out to the mother-child camp entitled ‘RITUALS OF THE TRUE GOD’. It seemed strange that he had not heard about it earlier, as usually everything to do with the church crossed his path as one of the senior attendant. It seemed to come out of the blue. It was such a long way to travel by train.

There was something else that was troubling him as late. Elizabeth, his wife of over twenty years, had always so loving and caring, but most recently she had felt a little distant. John had felt her becoming almost remote in her mind – as if she was on autopilot while her thoughts was elsewhere. Maybe it was just the time of the month? Was it a woman thing? Maybe he was over-thinking everything? Maybe it was a really positive thing for Elizabeth and their young daughter, Lucy, to get away from the usual mundane routine. It would be great bonding time for them and what better way to do it than at a church camp with other devote Christians – asserting their faith in Jesus Christ, their Savior. A heaven sent opportunity to involve one self in the RITUALS OF THE TRUE GOD. It was probably be exactly what they needed to get back to the old ‘Lizzy’. The invitation promised great revelation … “Experience the love of the TRUE GOD.”

John busied himself with anticipation of the week ahead without his wife or his daughter to attend to. The thought that they would be many miles away and completely unreachable really did not cross his mind, as the combination of his unshakable faith and the up and coming duties at his church seemed to be foremost on the agenda. His role, as one of the senior attendants meant that before, during and after the three Sunday services, he would be more than occupied. He consoled himself that the time would pass quickly. He would assist their priest, old Father Williams, with his weekly routine for the local worshipers’ as well – more than enough to make the time pass quickly.

“Mummy, do I really have to do this? I mean, you know, church is so dumb! I hate it – they are all so hypocritical!” Moaned, ten-year-old Lucy.

“Hypocritical? Now that’s a long word for one so young.” Answered Elizabeth looking at her daughter’s pretty little face. “I want you to experience the love for the TRUE GOD.”

Lucy shook her head and sat gruffly looking out of the train window as the bland countryside passed on both sides of the carriage.

Elizabeth’s mind slipped back to the video of the young girl masturbating with Jesus on the cock crucifix. Her pussy felt slick immediately as she tried to suppress the interminable feelings. She had become besotted with the images and videos sent to her every night since by Littlesally666. They had started off as perversions, and had become more extreme with every passing evening. Night after night she had fantasized about sex with young girls and boys… and lately this had included thinking about her own daughter Lucy. Incestuous love. Even during the daytime Elizabeth had become a chronic masturbator, leaving housework, meal preparation, shopping, washing and other daily duties, instead spending every second while her husband was at work and daughter was at school, searching the internet for more and more blasphemous and deviant thrills. Coming over and over.

The invitation to her and her daughter to participate in the rituals of the true God had seemed a calling from the devil himself. She was so elated. It was hard to contain her self – lying to her stupid-fuck husband about it. She did not hide her excitement, parading the invitation that gave no indication to the uninitiated of its true meaning. It had been so easy to convince him that it was a ‘church camp’ as the title implied some form of religious instruction – and in her husband ignorance of the truth, he would believe whatever he wanted to believe.

The ‘camp’ was to happen at an isolated monastery in a rural area, a long distance from their home where the brothers and sisters of the order had been supplicated to serve the TRUE GOD. Lucy and Elizabeth would have to take a lengthy train journey to get there. Besides the veiled promise of perverted sex with coterie of mothers, Elizabeth had been informed that despite its monastic exterior, that all their creature comforts would be afforded, that each of the individual rooms were equipped with all the modern conveniences that they would possibly need. Each had an entertainment system was filled on every channel with highly pornographic material, covering most of the popular of pederasty fetishes – a great way to induce Lucy into her nasty new world.

She also knew that the three dozen women that had all been selected for the ‘camp’ were, like her, all recent converts from Christian dogma, that they, together with their young children, would be there to explore the darker side of their sexualities, to share in their most wicked and debauched desires – that there were no limits to the hellish pleasures that they would experience under the cajoling of her new love – Littlesally666.

Her heart beat faster as the train neared its destination.

They we met at the train station by an elderly nun and brought to the old monastery. It looked imposing. The wrinkled old woman, monastically dressed, showed the two of them to their room. It was more than comfortable – like a hotel room with a large double bed. Lucy had grumbled about the sleeping arrangements, but her mother had told her that she would look into it – though she had no intention to. All was as planned.

With Lucy settled in their private accommodation, Elizabeth make sure that she pointed out the entertainment system. With her daughter distracted, she quickly dressed in the strange clothing that they had all been provided with and joined the other women at the old chapel.

The group, aged between their late twenties and late thirties, gathered under the iridescent light of a thousand candles inside the surreptitious chapel. The old wooden hammer beams of the vaulted ceiling, grey stonewalls and imposing stain-glass windows had remained; but the uncomfortable peers and preacher’s pulpit were gone. The interior was replaced with warm heated floors and the seating comprised of wide leather backless couches scattered around the low raising leading to the black-clad altar. Behind the altar long blood-red curtains ringed the apse.

Elizabeth and the others where guided into the twilight chapel by an attractive slender woman who had introduced herself as Ms. Paula and several older nuns. Once inside, the nuns seemed to disappeared. They were to make themselves comfortable. Like Ms. Paula, all the women wore red tunic-like robes that were open from the front with the absence of buttons or fasteners, so that as the fabric moved their nakedness beneath was quite apparent. Elizabeth felt more comfortable dressed the way she was when she realized that all were dressed similarly. She was very excited but still actively avoided any direct eye contact with the others.

The uneasy silent was abruptly broken by the appearance of another women dressed in nothing but a pair of black stilettos and black leather chocker with a gleaming silver cross hanging inverted from its front. Elizabeth admired her audacity of standing before the group of three-dozen women, completely comfortable with her own nakedness. The height of the heels tilted her pelvis forward; pushing her baby smooth vagina forward in a pronounced manner, and under the misty chapel lighting, her sex glistened with the sweet sweat of arousal.

“Welcome my sisters. Please… please relax.” She said out loud, drawing all eyes from the chapel transept to the front of the raised black altar.

“The RitualS of the True God welcome you all. My name is Dr. Daisy and you have already met Ms. Paula. Please don’t be coy here. Tonight we openly celebrate our FREEDOM from tyranny! At last to be rid of your CHRISTIAN THRALL… to reach out to the one true GOD! AVE SATANAS!”

“Ave Satanas.” Chorused the women.

The curtains to the rear of the altar drew back slowly exposing ornate crosses that hung inverted – a further sign of their devilish worship. At its centerpiece sat a shiny black statue of the Goat of Mendes, its naked breasts and fuck pole cock teased Elizabeth’s cravings for iniquity.

Dark magic filled this place, demonic power seeped from every crevice. Elizabeth rubbed her eyes in disbelief as the hagiographical stain glass windows that had depicted scenes of saints malformed in silicon liquidity. Copper oxide, cobalt and gold running together, mutating to reveal new hellish scenes… scenes of naked children tortured by red skin demons with enormous phallic appendages… boiled, burnt, hang, crucified, raped and eaten alive. Their faces of terror and torment offered thrills that Elizabeth had been scared to admit enjoyment of until this point. Now their true infliction was to her a true ecstasy of sadistic lust.

“WELCOME TO GEHENNA.” Announced Ms Daisy.

“Where young children are sacrificed to the devil.” Whispered a dark-skinned Indian woman standing close to Elizabeth. They both exchanged guileful grins as Elizabeth quivered with new excitement.

Dr. Daisy continued. “This, your gathering is where you will embrace and revel in mutual perdition… sharing together your most EVIL desires. Come remove your ceremonial robes… be free… tonight and every night until the Sabbath sacrifice! AVE SATANAS…”

“Ave Satanas.” They all responded again enthusiastically.

The mothers eagerly began to remove their robes. The novelty of being naked in front of each other seemed both a little affronting but also electrifying to Elizabeth. To the left and right of Dr. Daisy, large screens came alive with the video of the girl that Elizabeth immediately recognized as LittleSally666. She was naked together with her younger brother and sister who were both pleasuring her with the cock cross.

“REJOICE, BEHOLD and DELIGHT in our sinS. superbia, avaritia, invidia, gula, ira, acedia and my favorite, luxuria (lust)!” As Dr. Daisy spoke, her fingers played against her erect clitoris in open and unashamed masturbation. “AVA SATANAS!”

“AVA SATANAS.” Praised the audience of agitated women.

“How many of you have partaken in the joys of incest with your children?”

About half the women in the room raised their hands including the Indian woman, whose eyes wandered over Elizabeth’s body.

“Excellent SISTERS. JESUS BE FUCKED! For the others who are yet to taste the fruits of your dark desires, seek out the advice of these who have – ask them the best way to molestation and seduction your young… for tomorrow you must perform the second of the RITUALS… that will be to bring yourself to orgasm by means of your own. BUT TONIGHT WE CELEBRATE TOGETHER as ONE BEFORE SATAN!”

Dr. Daisy stepped down from the raised podium across the apse and stood next to one of the women who had raised her hand previously to her question about incest. She lent forward whispered something in the woman’s ear. They both smiled and kissed each other mouth to mouth – their tongues were visible dancing back and forth between each other’s mouths. The woman’s fingers played with the slickness of Dr. Daisy’s cunt lips as Dr. Daisy opened her legs wider to accept the woman’s advance.

Elizabeth felt the long boney fingers of the strange Indian woman pressing against her from behind, pulling her backwards and grinding her hot, wet cunt against her backside. Elizabeth made no attempt to stop her seduction and shivered at her exotic touch of this black skinned woman.

“I am Anuja.” She whispered, licking the edge of Elizabeth’s ear.

“Lizzy.” Moaned Elizabeth as she leaned back against her new lover feeling the erect points of her breasts poking hard against her shoulder blades.

“I will show you how to seduce your daughter, Lizzy. Christ be FUCKED. I taught my young boy to fuck me and suck my husband from his eighth birthday… we will have much taboo pleasures together!”

Elizabeth just groaned in response. Taboo pleasures. She could not get enough. Ms. Paula stepped up to the altar, taking over from where Dr. Daisy had stopped and offered praise to the black phallic idol.

“UNHOLY HORNED GOD. PHALLIC GOD. GOD OF INCEST AND GOD OF PEDERASTY…. open your mind and partake in every perversion and sinful act. She announced holding her hands aloft towards the Goat of Medes. “We will offer you pain, non-consensual, sexual torture and ceremonial snuff.”

There was a distinctive moan of positive acknowledgement from the evil gathering – edgy with lust and desperate to get started!

“We FORNICATE naked beneath the Rainbow of Evil. Oh, CARNAL GOD with PHALLUS and Breasts! REGE SATANAS.” Chanted Ms. Paula, whipping them all to a maelstrom.

“REGE SATANAS!!!” They all screamed back.

The villainous chapel and its coterie were bathed in an orange-redness of own putrescence. The smell of naked mischief and sexual menstruations lingered in the twisting smoke of thousand candles.

Ms. Paula strutted forward to the edge of the altar rise. She used the small remote control in her hand to increase the volume on the screens behind her, so that the audio track of Sally moaning, as she was masturbated by her younger brother and sister, crying out even louder in blasphemous ecstasy.

“…I am JEZEBEL, WHORE of HELL. DAUGHTER OF SATAN. WE burn incense unto BAAL! WE burn incense unto BAAL! WE burn incense unto BAAL!…”

With this carnal fanfare, Elizabeth recognized the object of her affections – littlesally666. She entered the chapel via the rear doors. She was naked and riding high, bareback upon an impressive black stallion led by two black clad elderly nuns do the centre of the nave. At the rear of the procession were Sally’s young sister and brother. Dr. Daisy and Ms. Paula knelt before her as she dismounted – the other women followed their lead.

“Worship her as Jezebel, the goddess of fornication; the Mother of Witchcraft; the HERETIC; the ANTICHRIST!” Prayed Dr. Daisy. “We kiss your anus and taste the waste of the world. PRINCESS of Hell. We sin for you. FUCK JESUS and his FUCKING WHORE, MARY!”

Dr. Daisy grinned wildly as the young girl climbed up upon the top of the black altar holding her vagina open, offering it to the caucus of women to taste.

“REGE SATANA!” Screamed the young girl.

“REGE SATANA!” Repeated her congregation.

Elizabeth and Anuja stepped up to her together each to take their turn to pay homage. Elizabeth was the first to dive her pink tongue as far into Sally’s young pussy as she could, licking and sucking feverishly. Sate on her youthful juices, she sat back to allow Anuja to feast herself upon the girl too – while Sally pressed Anuja’s face against her gyrating crotch. Sally bent forward over Anuja’s head to kiss Elizabeth on the mouth. It was a welcoming long and passionate kiss.

“MY SISTER.” She purred.

Dr. Daisy and Ms. Paula brought forth the gelding knife from the black altar and chanted out loud to her father, Satan, as they both groped and teased the black stallion, arousing him quickly to a full erection. The stallion’s dark meat telescoped forward under the stimulation of Dr. Daisy and Ms. Paula. As the two perverts worked their sex magick upon the beast, Elizabeth marveled at its final length and girth, thicker than her wrist, longer than her arm.

“We willingly and knowingly eat the gift of the Infernal Serpent, the Forbidden Fruit of luxuria!”

“luxuria! luxuria!” Echoed the call of lustful women.

A few of the women were already lost beyond the point of being completely unaware of anything other their personal lust. Several of the women where gathered around Sally and her brother and sister – pleasuring them with their mouths and fingers as Sally watched and waited expectantly for Dr. Daisy and Ms. Paula to perform the penectomy upon the highly aroused stallion.

“We FORNICATE naked beneath the Rainbow of Evil. Oh, CARNAL GOD with PHALLUS and Breasts!” Recanted the two perpetrators of bestial love.

Elizabeth and Anuja broke their mutual heavy petting and watched with awe as the two women sucked and licked upon the stallion’s enormous erection and heavy ball sacks. They glided their hands back and forth between the preputial ring and down the length of inner lamina of prepuce as they continuously stroked the stallion’s solid black truncheon. The dark organ quaked on the brink of orgasmic release.

“Of Bestial. Lesbian. Homosexual. Bisexual. Transsexual. Obscenity is your flower. Perversity is your way. Depravity is your light. Corruption is your path!”

Elizabeth and Anuja ground their pelvises thrust together in desperate release of their clitoral priapism as they watched Dr. Daisy raise the sharp sacrificial knife aloft. Black magick holding the stallion in prone position, he did not acknowledge the gelding blade slicing through muscle and soft issue, like an invisible steel ghost – blood poured forth as the elderly nuns quickly led the stallion away, leaving Ms. Paula assiduously holding the offering of the stallion’s still rampant sex organ in her hands. Elizabeth gave a puerile screech of sadistic enjoyment.

Ms. Paula and Dr. Daisy presented the horse’s severed cock to their demon. Sally’s hands looked dwarfed against its length and girth as the evil spells held it suspended in its purpose. Standing up and seizing the offered cock from the hands of Ms. Paula, the little demon plunged the severed root of it into her open vagina. A river of red fluids ran down her inside thighs as Sally’s body and the black phallus seemed to coalesce in an unholy union as her onlookers gawked at the sight of the divine thaumaturgy that only the daughter of Satan could usurp.

“UNHOLY HORNED GOD. PHALLIC GOD. GOD OF INCEST!” Roared her fervent devotees.

Triumphantly, Sally stood. Her sex conjoined to the sex of the beast. No longer completely human. No longer part animal. Denatured. Her physiognomy reflected the true creature beneath its façade. The metamorphosis complete, she brazenly stroked her new phallus as it stood upright from her bucking hips, as rampant as it had been before the unholy castration.

Dr. Daisy and Ms. Paula stood either side of her, stroking and kissing her black skinned appendage, urging the others to follow their lead. And they did – all of them. Elizabeth wanted to be the first to mount her. To be fucked by her littlesally666, fucked the PHALLIC GOD. Fucked by the UNHOLY HORNED GOD. Fucked by the GOD OF INCEST. Fucked by this impossibly huge thing that now stood upright and promised an orgasm so huge that nothing else ever could.

John Mason, tossed and turned in restlessness lassitude. Too enervated to bother changing into nightwear, without either his wife or child around, John had simply stripped and fallen asleep on the bed. Now it was three in the morning. His awakening dream had distressed him greatly. Usually he had dreamless nights. But tonight had been baleful. He had awakened sharply, his body drenched with sweat. Blinking, he lay upon his back on his bed in the complete darkness.

Had it been a visitation of an angel? Maybe the Holy Ghost itself bathed in the radiance of divine light? But something was not right – the dream had been intermittently mutated. The struggling dogma of his relentless faith had been arrested somehow. Corrupted by the galling of darkness. Closing in like unceasing pagan cacophony in his mind. Poisoning everything it touched. How he hated all miscreants. He hated the gays, kikes, pakis, niggers and chinks. Yes the devil’s conspiracy was at work in these confounded perverts. It was a homosexual infection that attacked his lily-white Christian world. His poor white Christian folk! They were the chosen people of Jesus Christ. Damnation for homos! And in his nightmare it personified itself as the naked specter goading him with its obscene genitals that had spoilt this vision of Catholic purity and innocence.

He had been drawn into its lair – on the threat of harming his wife and child. He had been forced to kneel before a well-endowed nigger boy. The smell of nigger sweat made his gag. He had been forced to take his hairless balls into his fingers. To manipulate them and even stoke his dirty distained anus, then take the mushroom head of the emaciated boy’s fuck pole into the roof of his mouth, sucking it whilst rubbing its veined length. Vile. The dark black meat moved back and forth in his mouth. He should have wanted to puke with the sound of the nigger groaning in pleasure. Then the nigger boy ejaculated, salty jets of hotness in the back of his throat. John was choking on nigger semen.

He had awakened in complete shock. He felt unclean. Disgusted with him self. He was tarnished at the very thought of this unnatural invasion. It was against God’s laws! A vision of hell had filled his mind. They had been fornicating beneath the Rainbow of Evil. They stood naked before a CARNAL GOD with PHALLUS and Breasts! Obscenity was their flower. Perversity was their way. Depravity was their light. Corruption was their path. He had seen the UNHOLY HORNED GOD. The PHALLIC GOD. The GOD OF INCEST and GOD OF PEDERASTY. He saw demons, many of them molesting the young… penetrating, fornicating, and raping them over and over in his relentless vision of HELL!

Reality and dream seemed intertwined. Were his wife and daughter in mortal danger? Had they been duped? Tricked? This was no Christian God that they performed these obscene rites? No. The RITUALS OF THE TRUE GOD was a perversion of the truth! An abomination of God’s laws! It was devil worship! Offering his Catholic wife and daughter to an imposture – a small young girl, no older than his own daughter that in terrible transformation became the nigger demon with an enormous phallus!

Through the recalcitrant haze, he connected vague dots. He surmised that the so-called Christian camp that Elizabeth and Lucy had travelled all that distance for, was a shame. Danger. Devil worship. Rape and human sacrifice. A prayer he thought. This must be the fragment of his overactive imagination created from acute anxiety? Oh God, let be just a bad dream. They were both fine? Surely?

His hand touched the flesh of his quivering groin. His flesh was unexpectedly rigid. He felt so hard and so wanton. He ran his thumb across the engorged head of cock, retrieved a sticky bead of pre-cum and shocked himself as be tasted its saltiness. What’s wrong with me? He lay naked in the darkness and began lazily stroke himself. Slow and unsure at first, his movements became harder and faster with every stroke. Oh, God, I’m stroking myself, he thought as he imagined the boney nigger boy bent over and offered him his tight little sissy hole for sodomy, for buggery.

“OH YES. FUCK YES” He groaned surreptitiously. He suddenly stopped himself on the brink of orgasm. His flesh wanted it. He needed desperately to release himself. His cock quivered, beckoning for the final movement that would spray him self in his spilt seed.

He released his throbbing organ and turned over onto his stomach and tried to think of something else, anything else. God help me. God be merciful. God I have failed your testing. The Devil’s work is never done.

Elizabeth returned to her room accompanied by Anuja. As she entered noticed her daughter sat with her back to the door facing the monitor. Anuja put her finger to her lips and exchanged a knowing glace with Elizabeth. Lucy had inevitably stumbled upon the pornographic content on their entertainment system.

Elizabeth could clearly see that her daughter’s hands were between her legs and that she was rubbing herself as she watched two cute young girls of about her age take turns in performing cunnilingus upon an older girl. The expression of enjoyment on the older girl’s face was apparent as she moaned and instructed the younger ones in what to do to pleasure her – first with their tongues, then their fingers, then with their clits. Elizabeth and Anuja, watched and waited, observing Lucy’s affirmative enjoyment of this Sapphic spectacle. Her hand was now down the front of her demin jeggings and the movement of her fingers was clearly visible.

“Oh, my blessed darling.” Whispered Elizabeth to Anuja, her coconspirator.

Anuja was already pleasuring herself at the sight of Elizabeth’s perky young daughter. She had already conceived her finagled plot to seduce her and was visualizing the little one riding upon her greedy mouth, lapping up her vestal juices. So sweet. So desirous. So delicious.

“Just watch my dear. Watch from the behind the bathroom door.” Coed Anuja to the impatient Elizabeth and pointed in the direct of the bathroom that was outside of her daughter’s line of sight. Elizabeth just nodded in acknowledgement and deferment to Anuja’s experience and moved quietly away.

Once she could see that Elizabeth was in fact out of the way, Anuja pounced.

“What do you think you are doing?” She barked at the startled young girl.

Caught with her hand down her jeggings, panting and flushed from sexual arousal – she panicked. Anuja grabbed the offending hand, that was still wet from its petting.

“I … I … I …” Mumbled the tongue-tired child.

“Masturbator! I caught you in the act! SINNER!” Exclaimed Anuja, holding her tightly, so she could not escape. Bringing the girl’s fingers to her nose, she sniffed at the perfume of awaking. She pretended to be angry, to be offended by the girl’s behavior.

Lucy looked downwards. Her glasses had fogged up on account of her tears. She knew she had been caught in the act. It was not the first time. In fact she had been masturbating for quite some time, but never had she witnessed such videos. Yes, she had imagined making out before. With boys her age, especially with one boy called Mark from her science class – but never with other girls. This was something new. This was so thrilling – much more exciting than boys. She wanted to do it. She wanted to suck, lick and fuck in Sapphic abandonment. The India woman was strong. She could not hide herself. She felt embarrassed and humiliated. Surely her mother would find out. Surely her saintly mother would bring this transgression to her father, to the church and her teachers. She wanted to die. She wanted to disappear.

“Kneel MASTURBATOR!” Commanded the aggressive Indian woman as she twisted the girl’s wrist, so that it forced Lucy to kneel before her. The loud groans of ecstasy from the video that, up to a minute before, had inspired Lucy to touch herself, now punctuated her disgrace.

“Please, let me go. I won’t…”

“You won’t what? Do it again?”

“Please don’t tell my mother. Please!”

“Strip.” Commanded her captor.

“What?” She asked.

“Take them off. All your clothes. Filthy sinner.”

The Indian woman loosened her grip to allow Lucy to comply. She did but not understanding what form of punishment lay ahead. All she could think about was the embarrassment of her humiliation affront her family. Kneeling naked, her captor could she a pale immature body, carnation-pink nipples, and hairless vagina.

“Please don’t tell my mother. Please!”

To be continued…

If you have enjoyed this story or would like to offer praise to the author, who is always hungry for encouragement and affirmation, please email to xpanther2008@gmail.com


Год производства: 2019 г.
Жанр:Transsex, Shemale dominate, Oral, Hardcore, Shemale on Female
Время:00:41:32
Natalie Mars is a businesswoman who is always on a mission and used to getting what she wants. She's not the type to take 'no' for an answer, especially from her subordinates. There's one subordinate she has her eye on -- her lovely assistant, Kenna James. She's easy on the eyes and eager to please. Natalie loves ordering Kenna around and seeing her tremble with fear... and arousal. She calls Kenna into her office, then gets her to spin around so that she can judge what she's wearing that day. Natalie approaches, scrutinizing Kenna as she smooths out the wrinkles in her clothes. She can't have her assistant looking anything less than perfect. Satisfied, she sends Kenna on her way to fetch some drycleaning and coffee, admiring her ass as Kenna hightails it out of there. Meanwhile, Kenna's almost at her wits' end trying to appease her boss as she runs endless errands for her. It can be a bit intense for her, but the rare praise that she gets from Natalie makes everything worth it. When Kenna returns, Natalie declares that now she's hungry... Kenne vibrates with nervousness and excitement as she locks eyes with Natalie, knowing what's about to come. She carefully sits down on the edge of the desk and opens her legs a little, asking Natalie what she wants to eat... Natalie's bright red lips pull into a grin. Kenna is taken to new heights of pleasure as Natalie sinks between her legs and eats out her pussy. She's all too happy to suck her boss' cock, wanting Natalie to feel just as blissed out as she does. When Natalie finally bends her over the desk and slips her cock into her pussy, Kenna is satisfied, knowing she's once again done her job well.
Тип HD видео: 1080p
Качество видео: HDRip
Формат видео: MP4
Видео: MPEG4 Video (H264) 1920x1080 23.976fps 4 412kbps
Аудио: AAC 44100Hz stereo 192kbps

[Transfixed] She is the Boss [S1 E16 - Kenna James, Natalie Mars] (1080p).mp4 - 1.3 GB


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Seducing a straight man is the Holy Grail for a lot of gay men out there. For me, it’s always been easy. I see the alpha hunk that I want to be fucked by, I flirt and let him know I’m available, and I sit back until he comes to me. Some dudes who are total bottoms like I am make the mistake of being too clingy or too desperate when they decide to pursue a straight man. That gives them the scent of desperation, and it’s why they fail where I succeed. Hetero hunks and delicious daddies like to feel like they’re the ones making the decision, like they’re the ones conquering. But when I give a man who swore that he was 100% straight the best orgasm of his life, there’s no doubt in my mind that I’m actually the one in control. That I’m the one who conquered a straight alpha jock stud.

“Nathaniel,” the new office intern, Craig, said to me, “It must be so easy for you to get laid. You’re kind of a catch, dude. If I were gay, I’d hook up with you in a second.” Craig was a little bit tipsy; he was just some dumb college jock. I’ve only been working on reeling him in for a few weeks now, and already he was putty in my hands. Ripe for the picking.

And yet…

I already had my eye on a bigger prize.

One that wasn’t here at Happy Hour because he didn’t drink.

One that was so squeaky clean that all of my usual tactics were having absolutely no effect on him.

The man I was craving, the man I was needing to have a taste of, the handsome daddy who was absolutely rocking my world, was named Grayson Nash, and he was the new CEO at the tech startup I worked at. I knew the minute I saw his name in the press release announcing his hiring that the dude was gonna be fucking hot. And then he showed up on his first day of work. He was tall and muscular, with chiseled, handsome, all-American looks. This man was truly a blonde god. His daddy energy was off-the-charts, and he had the dictionary definition of “big dick face.” In a tribal society, he would have clearly been the leader of the pack, respected for his stature, power, virtue, and righteousness.

When he met me and shook my hand, his deep blue eyes twinkled at me and his grip immediately conveyed benevolent dominance over me. I could clearly make out the manly physique underneath his perfectly tailored suit. I had to have this man.

But there was a slight problem. He was a family man. He was a man of God. He was some lucky woman’s husband and they were parents to a bunch of kids. He was a pillar in his local religious community. My usual tactics were not going to work on him.

In addition to being incredibly sexy, successful, and charming, Grayson had something else. He took a genuine interest in me. He wasn’t the type of boss who just saw me as somebody to make him money, or as an office drone. He saw me as a human being. He actually made the effort to get to know me and mentor me. He was such a genuinely good person.

So, you see, for the first time in my life there was a straight man that I wanted, and I couldn’t figure out any tactics that were going to help me get him. Some stupid jock like Craig just wasn’t going to cut it anymore.

I kept pounding shots, ignoring Craig as he kept rolling up his sleeves and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt to try to entice me. My mind was completely focused on Grayson, and yet no good ideas came to me.

It shouldn’t be this hard. Men are an easy combination to unlock. I’ve got a cute face, a toned twink body, and a bubble butt that most girls would kill for. I make six figures as a 24-year-old, as I was one of the first employees at a tech startup that became extremely popular. I’ve got a sexy car and an awesome apartment. I’m not used to having doors closed to me.

But a principled man of God? In 2022 America! Such an absurd, anachronistic obstacle for me to have to deal with in my quest for quality cock.

“Man, I’m so fucking horny tonight,” Craig said as we shared a cigarette outside.

He was really laying it on thick. But I wasn’t in the mood tonight, so I booked him an Uber to get home, as he was in no condition to drive. My apartment was only a few blocks away. I would walk home.

It was a Friday night, and I was without a cock to suck, without a muscular alpha to stick his big fat daddy dick up my butthole. For a young, rich, cute guy like me, it was a fucking crime.

As I was walking toward my building, I noticed a stranger. Oh, great, some bum… drinking a forty out of a paper bag right in front of the lobby door. Hopefully, he wouldn’t accost me or beg for change. As I got closer, I realized I was either really drunk or really desperate, as I noticed the bum was actually kinda cute. He didn’t look crazy or homeless or anything. Just a lower-class drunk white straight dude who didn’t get any pussy tonight. We were in the same boat, in a way. Maybe…

“Don’t even think about it, Nathaniel,” I scolded myself. “Just hope he doesn’t pull a gun on you or rape you or something.”

Pull a Escort Yakacık gun. Or rape.

Wait a second.

Eureka. It was like a lightbulb lit up over my head.

“Hey man,” I said to him. “I’m Nathaniel. I’m about to order a pizza. How would you like to come up and split it with me?”

He seemed a bit unsure, eyeing me cautiously, so I engaged in a bit of conversation with him.

He called himself “Buddy.” I didn’t know if that was a pet name or his actual name or what, but it also didn’t matter. I found out that he was out of work because the factory he worked in had closed and shipped his job to China. He had two kids to feed and a wife at home who was on his back constantly because he couldn’t bring any money home.

“Well, Buddy,” I said. “Today is your lucky day. I have a business opportunity if you want to come up and share that pizza. My treat.” By now, I’d softened him up enough, or he was hungry after drinking so much, and he agreed.

I was going to walk Buddy through what I wanted him to do: Break into the office when Grayson and I were there alone, force us to strip, and then force us to fuck.

As we took the elevator up to my apartment, I began to have second thoughts. What if we went through with this, and then Buddy got caught and ratted me out to save himself? What if somebody got hurt? What if there was an accident and Grayson got shot? And his 5 kids would have to grow up without a father. All because I had so selfishly concocted these machinations to get a throat and butthole full of their dad’s sperm.

I let Buddy into my apartment and ordered the pizza. Buddy helped himself to one of my beers and spread himself out on my sofa. He lied back and put his hands behind his head, exposing his armpit hair. Buddy wasn’t completely unappealing himself; he had a certain blue-collar sex appeal, and he looked good in his wifebeater. Maybe I should just blow him and call it a night?

But why have a cheeseburger if you can afford to dine out on expensive filet mignon? There was never going to be another chance to be with a supreme gentleman like Grayson. I deserved to experience being fucked by the very best of the best, and that’s what Grayson was. Whatever the risk was, if I didn’t do this, I would spend the rest of my life wondering, “What if?”

After Buddy and I finished our meal, I told him the amount of money I could pay him if he helped me out with something, and his eyes immediately lit up. My apartment was so chic that there was no doubt that I had that kind of dough.

“But, Buddy, I’m afraid that what I’m going to ask you to do is… well, some people might consider it to be slightly unethical. If that’s a problem for you, I wouldn’t blame you for walking away now. But I promise you that nobody will get hurt, and there’s no way you could possibly be punished for it. Are you willing to hear me out?”

He nodded his assent, so I explained to him that I wanted to suck Grayson’s luscious dick, and I wanted Grayson to fuck my cute ass, and I needed Buddy’s help to facilitate that. As I explained it, I felt a strange jolt of excitement. I had never had an idea quite this depraved before. The look of bewildered shock on Buddy’s gruff, manly face was kind of a turn on. I emphasized to Buddy, in case he was worried, that nothing in any of this would physically hurt Grayson at all. It was going to be pleasurable for him, and, hey, he just might learn something about himself along the way.

Buddy looked absolutely disgusted, and, at times, angry. I thought that he was going to kill me for daring to suggest he take part in this sick and disturbing act. I didn’t fully gauge his reaction, though, because I was starting to believe my own bullshit. The more I talked about it, the more fascinated I became, the more convinced I was, and the more arrogant I got about it. When he finally objected and expressed doubts, I repeated the amount I was willing to pay him. It was an offer that he just couldn’t refuse, and I had the ability to pay in cash. I could feel him equivocating and beginning to come around to the idea.

Like I said, I know how to exploit men’s weaknesses. Once I saw Buddy equivocate and think about how much this money was going to help him, I went all out praising Buddy and saying how easy this was going to be and how he was just the perfect man for the job. I built up his ego, so any doubts he had would then be injuries to his own ego. Once I framed the argument that way, I knew I had him. He shook my hand, and it was all set. Next Friday, Grayson would be in the office alone while the rest of the staff went to Happy Hour, and I’d stay behind with him. And Buddy would enact the plan. Buddy said he knew where he could get an untraceable gun off the streets, which was good because I sure as hell didn’t.

It couldn’t fail, right?

Knowing how close I was, but having to wait until Friday, made the next week drag on torturously. Soon, every inch of Grayson’s body would be Atalar escort mine to explore and savor… and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it. This man had probably been successful and popular his entire life. He was smart, athletic, gregarious, generous… Everybody liked him. And none of that was going to save him from being the plaything for one very lucky and enterprising gay twink who needed a new daddy.

When he interacted with me in the office, and put his hand on my shoulder to encourage me, or when he flashed me his pearly whites to tell me what a great job I was doing, I couldn’t help but to throb in my pants. On Wednesday, I listened to his deep, manly voice for an hour as he did a presentation on our expansion plans, and it turned me on so much that I seriously thought I was going to cream my work pants.

I thought about jerking off in the bathroom to relieve the stress… but something told me to save up my load for Friday.

After the longest week of my life, the day I’d been waiting for arrived at last.

“Hey Nathaniel,” said Craig, who was wearing a pair of pants that had to be about two sizes too tight for him. Poor guy. His package looked great in the pants, don’t get me wrong, but he was just a day late and a dollar short. He wasn’t gonna get anything from me (at least, not tonight, anyway.) “Are you coming to Happy Hour tonight?”

“Can’t, sorry,” I said. “I’m gonna be burning the midnight oil getting the Anderson account online. Maybe next week.” He looked defeated. I had to suppress a laugh.

People started to filter out of the office around 3:30 PM, and I began to get seriously nervous and have doubts about all this. Maybe Buddy wouldn’t show. Maybe I should call him off.

“Wait,” I realized. “I can’t call him off because I forgot to ask for his number.” My heart began to beat faster, and I had butterflies in my stomach.

By 4:30, Grayson and I were the only ones left in the office. Buddy was supposed to show up at 5:00 sharp. I’d told Buddy about a side door that the smokers always left unlocked so they could go outside to smoke without having to pass back and forth through security. I was such a nervous wreck, I thought I was going to throw up. My plan was to engage Grayson in conversation around 4:50, so he would be away from his phone and couldn’t call the cops, and also so Buddy could point his gun at both of us simultaneously. But at 4:45, Grayson disappeared into the men’s room. Fuck.

Being drunk last Friday night and talking some hobo bum into helping me had been one thing. But now that it was almost here, the realization of what I was about to do and all of the risks I was taking was really gnawing at me. I was going to be a felon. I could end up spending the next 20 years in prison. I’d definitely have access to some Grade A cagemeat in there, thugs who would absolutely love to take out all their aggression by fucking some young twink… but my family would be so disappointed in me, and I’d have my face plastered all over the news as some kind of sex pervert. Just think of the memes they’d make of me on Twitter.

It was 4:58 and Grayson still wasn’t back from the men’s room. I guess the Thai food we had for our office lunch party must not have agreed with him. Maybe I should just leave now. I’d go to the Happy Hour with everyone else, and I’d have an alibi. I couldn’t be held accountable for whatever Buddy did then. Just as I was about to bolt, Grayson emerged from the men’s room and walked over to my desk.

“Nathaniel,” he said. “You’re working awfully late for a Friday. You sure you don’t want to call it a night? I’ll bet they’re still at Happy Hour if you want to join them.”

“Thank you, but I have to get the Anderson account done. Sir, how come you never come to Happy Hour?” I asked, knowing the answer, but needing to stall him for a bit.

“Well, I don’t drink. Never have. But I think it’s great that the staff here are so close. It’s definitely not like that at every tech startup.”

And as Grayson was speaking, I noticed Buddy running in like a bat out of hell behind him. It was like a disaster unfolding in that it seemed to occur simultaneously in slow-motion, and so suddenly that there was nothing I could say or do to warn Grayson or stop Buddy.

“Freeze!” he yelled, pointing the gun at us. Grayson defiantly moved toward him and Buddy bellowed out, “I said ‘FREEZE’, motherfucker, and I fucking meant FREEZE. You both stay put and keep your fucking mouths shut! If you move or try something again, I’ll put a bullet in your little friend’s head!” he yelled, motioning toward me with his gun.

Buddy was slurring his words and had a maniacal look in his eyes. He was either drunk or high on something. I’ve never had a gun pointed at me before. In all that I planned when imagining how this would play out, I hadn’t counted on actually feeling legitimately frightened. Buddy was either unstable or an excellent actor, and I believed when Kadıköy escort bayan he pointed that gun that he was not afraid to use it. I couldn’t read him to figure whether he was in the state of mind to remember that this was all just pretend. The dude didn’t seem this unhinged before… Maybe I was drunker than I thought I was when I shared the pizza with him and told him the plan.

“Wait a second,” said Grayson. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

Oh, fuck.

“Yeah, I met you. When I spoke at your church,” Grayson said softly and reassuringly, trying to calm the situation down. These guys knowing each other outside was not good for me. It meant an increased chance of getting caught, and an increased chance that Buddy would have other motives beyond sticking to my plan.

“Well, well, well, so Mr. Hot Shot here remembers. You came to talk to us about how we had to send money to help with hurricane relief in some foreign country. And my wife wrote you a check for $100. But where the hell were you when 5 of us in the congregation lost our jobs? Where were you, Mr. Hot Shot? Golfing at your country club? Driving your fancy Escalade? Buying your wife fake tits? Answer me, you rich motherfucker!” Buddy was screaming at the top of his lungs and had a vein practically about to pop in his forehead. He had the gun right to Grayson’s temple, and Grayson closed his eyes and seemed to be saying a silent prayer. “I can’t even afford new sneakers for my children and here you are walking around in a fucking $3,000 suit!”

“Hey, mister,” I whispered softly. “Why don’t you just let us give you some money and get out of here? And we’ll never tell anybody that you were ever here.” Frankly, I was almost ready to cut my losses. I was having second thoughts and wondering if I was in over my head.

I let out an involuntary, high-pitched, girlish yelp as he grabbed me and wrapped one arm around my neck, and with the other arm, pointed the gun at my temple. The cold metal dug into my head. It was most likely loaded, this dude suddenly seemed far too insane, and I was afraid it could even accidentally go off. I realized I was actually close to death, and I was terrified. What a horrible idea this had all been.

“Please, there’s no need to hurt him. I know you’re a good man, and you want to set a good example for your kids.” Grayson said. “Just let us go, and it’ll be like you were never here. I swear to you, as a fellow Christian.”

“I’m tired of looking at that fucking suit. Did you know that suit was probably more expensive than what a whole month’s rent costs me? Take off that suit, motherfucker, or your little friend here gets it,” Buddy ordered.

“OK,” Grayson said, making a calming gesture with his hands. He looked no less dignified as he untied and slipped off his fancy Armani shoes to reveal classy argyle socks beneath, and carefully removed his tie, leaving his smooth, clean-shaven neck bare. I hoped I would get a chance to kiss that gorgeous Adam’s Apple at some point tonight… then I snapped myself back into the moment and remembered the goal at this point was just not to die.

He still looked manly and confident as he worked to undo the buttons on his shirt, ultimately revealing a v-neck white undershirt beneath. I could make out the very top of the concavity between his pecs, the part of him where I really wished I could rest my head, so he could make me feel safe from psychotic Buddy. His biceps looked spectacular; they were popping out of his sleeves. He was very jacked for a forty-something father of five. Finally, I heard him pull the zipper of his flat front pants down. God, I loved the sound of a man’s zipper being pulled down. Grayson stepped out of his pants and neatly folded them up on a chair. He stood before us in his white undershirt, flannel boxer shorts, and argyle socks. I couldn’t believe that I had a front row seat to this strip show, and all that was left between me and everything I’d been dreaming about was a small piece of fabric.

“Come on, Mr. Hot Shot,” Buddy said impatiently. “Undershirt and underwear too.”

“Now wait a minute,” Grayson said, argumentatively. Shit, I’d worried about this. Grayson was not the kind of man to take orders. That’s what attracted me to him in the first place. But it posed a problem in that it disrupted my plans, and also because I didn’t need him doing anything that would make Buddy even angrier.

I had no warning when, in a violent move, Buddy pistol whipped me. I was on the ground, seeing stars, and all I could hear was commotion and yelling. I thought I made out the words “strip or he dies,” but I had ringing in my ears, my vision was blurry, and my nose was bleeding. It took me a minute or two to regain my senses. But when I rose from the ground, I saw the most glorious sight of my life.

Grayson stood before me, wearing nothing but his argyle socks.

Amazingly, the look on Grayson’s face remained dignified, betraying only concern for me and no fear for himself. This was exactly what made him such a pinnacle of masculinity.

His body was amazing, as I expected it would be. I really hoped I would get the chance to grab onto those incredible pecs to support myself while I bounced up and down on his dick.

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