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 4
On Friday Mose came by and suggested that he and Harold get together Saturday afternoon. "We can do..0.you know what," he whispered.
"Oh, I can't," Harold lied. "I've got to do something with my dad. What about Sunday?"
"We can't do that on Sunday!" Mose exclaimed.
"Shit!" Harold replied. "If something's wrong, it's just as wrong on Saturday as it is on Sunday. And I don't think beating off is wrong anyway." That was the first time Mose had ever heard his friend use a "bad word."
It took some convincing, but Harold finally got Mose to agree to come by Sunday afternoon. They'd go up in the woods and mess around.
Saturday afternoon Harold approached the cave with some trepidation. But his curiosity got the better of his reluctance. He approached the lair with about ten minutes to spare. There was a portable radio at the cave's mouth playing country-western stuff, songs mostly about guys or gals being done wrong. Not anything like what he would hear on the radio at home.
At the entrance was a shirtless boy that Harold didn't know casually peeling off his jeans. That and shoes was all he'd been wearing. He came out to meet Harold.
"Hey, man," he said. "You must be new. I'm Eric."
"Harold."
Eric gave Harold's groin a friendly feel, put his arm around his new acquaintance, and led him into the cave. Harold immediately stripped down, as he'd been told to do. Eric watched appreciatively.
"Your dick's goanna be a mighty weapon when you get a little older," Eric said.
They went into the torchlit chamber, where Timothy, Amos, the Carson boys, and two guys from church were already there. Michael Winslow and John Foreman were both fifteen. Both were astonished to see Harold.
"What the fuck? Not Harold Baxter!" John said.
"Yes," Timothy testified, "Lord Satan sent him to me personally, and he is going to be a great convert."
By two o'clock the group had swelled to fifteen guys ranging in age from thirteen to eighteen. A couple more of Harold's fellow church members had arrived, three or four that he knew from town, others that he had never seen before.
Mimicking his father's Pentecostal worship, Timothy opened with a prayer to the Great Satan, asking his blessing on the assembly. Then he introduced Harold, saying again that he had been sent by Satan himself. They repeated the Satanic Ten Commandments, refutations one by one of the Judaic commandments. Then Timothy called on the youngest boy present to give his testimony.
"What was your task, George?" Timothy asked.
"To steal something I don't need from a public place," the boy answered.
"And did you succeed?"
"Yes. From Grisham's drug store I copped this pack of condoms. I don't need 'em, but I thought maybe some of you guys might use 'em."
"You don't need `em?" Timothy pressed.
"Nah. I don't mess with girls."
There was laughter all around.
"George has passed one of the tests of initiation, Harold. Each of us must steal at least once. Steal something that they don't need," Timothy explained.
"And now I'm happy to tell you that we have another candidate for baptism," Timothy told the group. Jim Carson is ready to join his brother, Bret, as a full member of the Lair of Satan. Come forward, Jim.
"Eric and Hyram, please assist me."
All three boys joined Timothy. There was a low table in the chamber that had not been there before. Harold realized that there was an opening into the chamber that he had not noticed earlier. It was only about four feet square, and the room beyond was where the torches and other paraphernalia used at the meetings were stored.
"Jim," Timothy began, "do you give your allegiance to our Lord Satan?"
"Fuck, yeah."
"Do you acknowledge me as your master?"
"Fuck, yeah."
"Do you have any god but Jehovah?"
"Fuck, yeah. Satan."
"Amen," said the others.
"Have you bowed down to his graven image?"
"Fuck, yeah. On the wall right here."
"Amen."
"Have you taken the name of Jehovah in vain?"
"Fuck, yeah. God damn it."
"Amen."
"Do you keep the Sabbath Day?"
"Fuck, yeah, but it ain't holy to me."
"Amen."
"Do you honor your father and mother?"
"Fuck, no."
"Amen."
"Have you killed?"
"Fuck, yeah, but only somebody's house pet, that to show that I will murder, if Satan should require me to."
"Amen."
"Have you committed adultery?"
"Fuck, no, but I fuck and will be fucked whenever it pleases me or other members of the Lair. And I aint got nothing against real adultery."
"Amen."
"Have you stolen in the name of Satan?"
"Fuck, yeah."
"Amen."
"Have you borne false witness?''
"Fuck, yeah."
"Amen."
"Have you coveted?"
"Fuck, yeah. Everything I want and don't have."
"Amen."
"You want the baptism of Satan?"
"Fuck, yeah. Give it to me, Master Tim."
"Get on the table of baptism."
Jim lay on the table on his back with his legs upraised. The two assistants took their places on either side of Jim's head and slowly began to jack off. Timothy for the first time turned his back to the "congregation." Only then did Harold realize that Jim was about to be fucked.
"Be washed inside and out with the cum of Satan," Timothy intoned. He rammed his hard slong into Jim's ass in one thrust. Amos, who had been baptized just weeks before had had a virgin asshole. Timothy had been gentle. Jim had been fucked by his brother many times, as Timothy knew. So he made as dramatic an entry as he could and plowed his new convert's ass as roughly as he could. To show how uncaring Satan was.
Timothy flooded Jim's colon with his fluid but let his bone remain in the boy's hole until both the other boys had dumped their loads onto Jim's face and watched the newly baptized boy scrape up their cum with his fingers and lick it off his hand.
"Eat his cum," Timothy cried out. "You've been baptized!"
Everyone clapped when Timothy pulled out and turned back to the group, his dick still wet with cum. Jim was pulled up and welcomed as the newest full member of the lair.
"Blessed be our Lord, Satan," or "Satan is Lord," they sang out. Some yelled "Hallelujah!"
"We will leave the table here, so Jim can use it.if he wants to," Timothy laughed. "And isn't it funny that Jim is only the third member of the lair whose "Christian" name and Satanic name will be the same.
(Timothy was "Tim," in the Lair. Amos had become "Aye." Biblical names were not tolerated. And most of the guys Harold knew did have biblical names. Mose was really named for Moses.)
"Let us pray," Timothy said. He offered a Satanic benediction and the "congregation" were left to satisfy their own desires.
Timothy brought out a bottle of cheap whiskey and each person took a swig. Still another sin for Harold to commit.
Then Eric, the boy who had met him at the mouth of the cave, sought out Harold. "I want to taste that dong, before it grows as much as I think it will," he said.
The older boy went down on the fourteen-year-old, who days before had never given a thought to sex of any kind. Now he eagerly relished the feelings flowing through his body as his dick was being stimulated and as he was watching even more wanton activities going on around him.
As he was putting his clothes back on, Harold was approached by Timothy. Again Timothy knew what he was doing. He clasped the younger boy's jewels and whispered, "So now you know what we're really about.
"Do you want to join our happy clan? If you come again, you know you can never turn back. But I know you'll be here next week. Won't you?"