This story involves explicit homosexual sex and Satanism in a Christian community in the Southern United States. Several things to be offended by. So if you are underage or object to reading about such things, be warned. Read no further.
If you are reading further, please contact me, let me know how you like the story and make suggestions. All your mail will be answered. macoutmann@yahoo.com.
Places in this story are real, but the characters and events are totally fictional.
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Copyright 2015 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.
SATAN'S WORK
by Macout Mann
Chapter 2
"Well, what do we have over there?"
Timothy had noticed Harold's shadow cast by the torches against the passage wall. Harold bolted down the darkened passage with the two naked boys in pursuit. Caught a few feet beyond the entrance, he was dragged back to the torchlit chamber.
"My, my, my," Timothy giggled. "It's Little Harold Baxter.
"What brings you to Satan's Lair?" he wanted to know.
"I...I was just exploring," the frightened boy answered.
"Nobody is allowed in here with clothes on," Timothy teased. "Strip him, Amos."
"No!" screamed Harold.
The fourteen-year-old was no match for the older boy. Harold's ripped clothes were soon in a pile on the cave floor, and he was being held tight against the naked body of his captor, whose hard tool pressed against the small of Harold's back. A smiling Timothy faced him.
"You were just exploring?" Timothy said. "No. I think you were sent here by our Lord Satan. I think you don't believe the shit my daddy spouts any more than I do; or if you do, our Lord wants you to learn better.
"You are in the arms of Amos Allen. He's from over in Benton. He's already learned better. He's learning how to have fun like Lord Satan wants him to."
"Wha...what d'ya mean?" the terrified fourteen-year-old cried.
"I mean that the Ten Commandments is bunk," Timothy answered. "All this shit about tithing, not drinking and not fucking is just ridiculous. Hell, they never tell us adultery just applies to married people, now do they?
"So a bunch of us have sworn allegiance to Satan, so we can enjoy ourselves. We get bareassed to show we're rebels. We have sex with each other, because my old man says that sex is bad and being queer is even worse. So fucking around with other guys must be the most fun of all. Not that we won't stick a gal, whenever we can."
Timothy reached for Harold, fondled his balls and watched gleefully as the younger boy's dick stiffened. "Yeah, that feels good, don't it?" he said. It was not really a question. He gently massaged Harold's awakening pole.
It did feel good.
Timothy knew what he was doing. After a few moments, he grabbed Harold's wrist with a grip so firm that Harold knew trying to escape would be futile even as Amos relaxed his hold on the boy's torso. Amos was sure what was going to happen next. He moved toward Timothy.
"Show him what's fun, Amos," Timothy ordered. "Suck my dick!"
Amos knelt before his fellow Satanist, clutched his hips, and gobbled up his seven-inch prong. Timothy's face reflected the pleasure he was feeling, and he threw his shoulders back and thrust forward to give the sucker even better access.
"Aint nothing that feels better, Harold. Well, maybe one other thing," he grinned.
Harold was transfixed as he watched Amos' head move back and forth, his lips sliding back to the circumcised head of Timothy's dick and then slipping down to its base. Amos buried his nose in the ample pubes at the root of Tim's shaft, while his glans pressed into Amos' throat.
"Oh fuck, yes!" Timothy panted. "You aint lived `til you've had your dick sucked, Harold."
"But it's wrong!" Harold finally found his voice.
"Aint nothing wrong!" Timothy responded.
Amos increased the speed of his ministration to Timothy's bone, and Timothy responded by grabbing Amos' head with his free hand and fucking the other boy's mouth.
Suddenly, Timothy let go of Amos and pulled back. "Let him see my load!" Timothy cried.
Timothy's cream splattered all over Amos face, and Amos licked up what his tongue could reach. With his free hand Timothy scouped up some of his cum and licked it off.
"Wha...What's that?" Harold stammered.
"You aint never beat off?" Timothy seemed incredulous. "Goddam!
"Go down on him, Amos. Make the motherfucker cum."
Harold made an effort to avoid the mouth that sought to taste his wiener, but truth be known, he realized resistance would be futile. And once Amos began his ministration, the virgin surrendered to the ecstatic feelings that enveloped him. Timothy realized that Harold was relaxing and let go of his wrist. He began to massage the fourteen-year-old's chest, tweak his nipples, rub his abdomen, and even embrace his ass-cheeks.
Amos ravaged the younger boy's dick. He realized that it might take a while to bring Harold to climax, and it did. But when Harold finally came for the first time, he was overwhelmed by feelings that stimulated every nerve in his body. He could hardly remain standing.
Timothy couldn't help laughing. "Aint nothing like getting off the first time," he said. "I wish I'd been blowed my first time instead of jacking off."
He reached for Harold's crotch and fondled his jewels. "We don't just have sex, though. We do everything that's supposed to be sinful, but aint. We lie, cheat, steal and covet. Like right now I'm coveting your ass. Just being here is not honoring our father and mothers. To be here is putting other gods before Him. We have our meetings on Saturday. That's to make the Sabbath Day unholy. We don't murder, unless we have to.
"But we do love to have sex. Come on, Harold, feel my dick. Taste it."
N...no!" Harold cried. He was overcome with shame. "Everything you've made me do, even watching...Everything you've said is evil. Let me go!"
A leering Timothy replied, "I still think Satan sent you to us. I think you'll be back. But sure, you can go." In a more threatening tone, he added, "But believe me, Harold, if you breathe a word of what you've seen or heard here to a soul, you'll find we can also violate the Sixth Commandment."
Both Timothy and Amos burst into laughter, as Harold grabbed up his clothes and ran from the cave. He found a nearby bower to shield his nakedness and dressed himself.