Once again, THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. The narrative that follows did not happen to Me or to anyone else by Me. Don't contact Me to meet this slave. DO contact Me if you want to become this slave. Also contact Me with any praise, criticism, or suggestions. All feedback is good.
WARNING -- some twisted shit (and the hounds of hell) in this section. Literally.
Satanic Slave - Part 9
Some time later a faggot was gratefully removed from the Toilet ... but only to be tested. It was led into a dark room. In the center was, of course, His rock-hard Cock. Around it was a pentagram. At each of the five points sat an Initiator on a rim seat. In front of Him was a plate with a load of shit on it.
A faggot hadn't noticed the Founder in the room and shook when He began to speak from the corner, covered completely in a black satin robe. That same dark, predatory, seductive Voice that was both a faggot's best friend and worst enemy.
"I'm sure a faggot treasured the time spent being a receptacle for Our waste. Now it is time to test what it learned. There are 5 Initiators and 5 loads in the room. A faggot must now taste each load and each Initiator's shithole and match the two. After determining a match, drag the plate to the correct Initiator and eat His plateful clean in front of Him. There's no problem in going back and forth between plates and shitholes to best determine the proper match. And faggot, these wise Men have priorities to attend to, so be done within an hour. Get to work. Failure will mean spending another tour in our toilet to better get to know each Initiator's taste."
There was only one thing to do: shove aside all nausea and repugnance and get the fucking job done. A faggot crawled to the first plate and got a whiff and taste. It then crawled under the first Initiator's rimseat and tasted His hole. Thankfully, Their holes were dirty. No, not a match. Back to the plate and on to the next Initiator. Nope. Back to the plate and on to the third. Bingo. A faggot crawled to the third Initiator and began to eat.
"Look up at Me, shithead." A shithead complied. With the Initiator's hood drawn, there was no way to see His face. But looking up at the Man while chewing and swallowing His turds was beyond humiliating; it was acknowledging this new position as the lowest most pathetic and perverse subhuman imaginable.
On to the second plate ... and then the third.
Two more plates and two more Initiators. By this time a shithead faggot had pretty much cleaned both their holes from all the previous tastings. And both platefuls of shit tasted the same at that point.
A faggot was fucking doomed. There was nothing else to do but make a goddamn guess. It dragged a plate to the fourth Initiator and gobbled it down. And the last plate in front of the fifth.
"OK, turdface. Kneel in front of each Initiator as He reveals a number. Then turn over the plate and see if the numbers match. Start with the First." It crawled to the first Initiator and He opened the chest of His robe to reveal the number 3 tattooed on His chest. A turdfaced faggot turned over the plate to show the same number. The next Initiator and the next plate also matched the number 5. And the third were also a pair, number 4.
Which left numbers 1 and 2. A faggot would have prayed, but there was no god in that room to pray to. There was only depravity and evil. It knelt reverently in front of the 4th Initiator and bit its lip in fear as He revealed the number 1.
It turned over the plate and let out its breath as the plate also showed number 1. It then knelt in front of the final Initiator and revealed a matching 2.
"So, crudface, they say `You are what you eat.' Tell us all what that then makes you."
"A worthless turd, SIR?"
"Damn fucking right. A piece of shit. There will be no forgetting that. I promise."
There was little doubt that promise would hold true. But He wasn't finished yet.
"Since a sewersuck did so well on his test, it's clearly time to go to the next advanced field of study." He sounded nearly giddy with sadism. "Time to visit the Kennel."
A faggot was silent and slackjawed, not believing its ears. "The Kennel, Lord?"
"Yes, turdbreath. Men aren't the only superiors to be serviced." Moments later a turdbreath cocksucker was led down more new halls into the Kennel. The less said about this place, the better. But enough must be said so the situation can be fully understoood.
There were somewhere between 20 and 30 huge untamed dogs in this room. There were piles of dogshit and puddles of piss everywhere. It stank to holy hell. A faggot prayed to not have to perform any cleaning duties here. There was a bench like in the fuck room. A faggot was splayed on that bench so its head could be seen by the Men in the bar. It's likely that few of Them would know a faggot's fate; a faggot had never heard any Man discuss the Kennel.
Once a faggot was properly installed, one of the Initiators fucked it hard, letting His seed spill all around its butthole. That was all the instigation these horny hounds needed. Almost as soon as He pulled out, a faggot felt a dog's paws scraping into its back. The dog's Dick was starting to slide into its ass.
Somebody put a pair of headphones on a faggot's head. Oh God no, please... "A shithead faggot is inferior to Anyone and Anything with a Cock. A turd-eating inferior piece of trash should consider itself lucky to be allowed to inhale a Man's most vile farts. Subhuman sewers are grateful to be screwed by any cock of any male at any time...."
And right about then, the Hound got Its Knot inside a screaming asswipe's fuckhole. This inhuman, diabolical torture continued for what seemed like forever: a nonstop canine rape. A faggot lost count of how many lupine loads were shot up its stretched-out hole. These curs weren't one-shot animals; they kept going again and again. Sometimes a dog-fucked faggot got scraped and bit as the animals fought for position. And through it all, His Voice crept ever deeper into what little remained of its soul. "There is nothing lower than a shit-eating fagwhore ... A faggot becomes a true bitch for dogdick ... A faggot aches to be seeded by every Hardon it sees ...."
Sometime during this eternity in hell, a discussion was going on that a faggot knew nothing about. A faggot found out about it much later, but it's useful to explain things in chronological order when possible.
The Viking, that beautiful blond Man, was speaking to the Founder. "Sir," He said respectfully, "I would like to take one of the faggots home with Me."
"No problem," He replied. "And you are Mr. ..."
"Erickson. James Erickson."
"Ah, yes, here's your file. How long do you want it for? One night, two ...?"
"Um, Sir, I'd like to keep him, Sir."
"Really? There's no precedent for that. Why the fuck would you want to keep one when We take such good care of them?"
"Well, Sir, I've gotten kinda attached to this one. He's such a pleasure to watch service Me. He gets so attached and focused in his work. But I haven't seen him around for a few weeks. I hope he's ok."
The Founder's brow raised and an evil smile came to His lips, unseen by Erickson because of the hood of the black robe that only He wore. "So let's make sure we've got the facts in order. You've gotten kinda attached' to one of our suckbitches. You treat the faggot as "he" instead of just a pleasure vessel like the rest of the whoreholes we own. You're concerned for his' well-being, and you'd like to have to take `him' home for you to keep. Did I miss anything or get anything incorrect?"
"No, Sir, that sounds about right to Me."
The Founder laughed. "So tell Me, doesn't that make you a faggot too?"
"No, Sir. It's just that I'm divorced, I'm very busy at work, and I don't have the time to meet women. This kid's readily available...."
"No, dick-lover, it isn't. It's been spending the past couple of weeks in training for Me."
Erickson's face dropped, ignoring the insult. "I didn't know.... Oh, fuck."
"Look, I can be very generous. Here's My offer. How much vacation time do you have available to take right away?"
"Um, about 3 weeks, Sir."
"That'll work fine. Make it happen. Take its place and train to serve Me at the Consecration Ceremony we'll be having in three weeks. If you ask to be released at any time during the period, you will be, but you will never see that faghole again. Stick with it and at the end of the three weeks the two of you can be together forever."
"Seriously, Sir? You'll allow that?"
"I am a Man of My word. And believe Me, it will be a real pleasure to unite the two of you. Be here tomorrow morning to start your training. We don't have time to start you off with the basic glory hole training, so we'll have to just start you off with the `advanced' training we started recently. I'm sure a man like you will do well."
They shook hands and Erickson left, smiling from ear to ear.
The Founder laughed cynically. "Faggots," he snickered. "They're just so fucking stupid."