He Knew... what was right for me

He knew what was right for me. He knew it as soon as we met at the gay bar in Hartford. It was my first time there. I had such hopes. Such desires. He knew what they were as soon as we met, as soon as we started talking. His eyes took control of me. His words. As the evening went on and we swapped rounds, I knew. He knew. The invitation back to his place was accepted. My first time to a gay bar. No reason ever to go back, ever. He took me, taught me, made me, me, his, his, his, to use, to give, to sell. He knew what was right for me. And so it is.

The start…

I was 30. I was married. No children. A good looking wife. But cold as an icicle. And I had gotten to the point that I was not interested in sex with her, just as she was uninterested in sex with me. She cut her hair short, switched to a sort of severe dress style, and spent as much of her free time as possible with one other woman, single, quite butch, with some crazy tattoos, virtually no tits so she never wore a bra, I could see the rings in her nipples. Then one day, the wife just said, “Baby, I am a lesbian. I am moving with Jane tonight. Consider yourself free from this moment on. Just start the paperwork for the divorce so Jane and I can marry as soon as possible. I love her. I do not love you. I want Jane 24 x7. So, fired by my lesbian wife. OK. So where did that leave me?

I was not going to go looking for a woman. Just no interest anymore – though I did spend time looking at butch lesbian porn on the internet. Fuck same-sex sex was so hot. What a proper balance. And what intensity. So why not look at all-male sex. Fuck that seemed even better. My cock told me. My animal brain told me so. It was so. I knew it was so.

But here I was, not so good at making contact. Hell, I had married a lesbian without knowing it at the time, and she told me she had known when we married. She married me because I was nice and it pleased her parents. Now fuck the parents. Her hungry pussy wanted pussy, not cock. Now what did I want?

So, a process. Just watching porn was after a while just so futile unless it led me to some action. It was not enough to watch and jerk off. But I did that a lot. I looked at some “dating” apps, but what was that all about? I was pretty wimpy. And I have to admit I finked out on some dates. Not good. I lived in an area with not a lot of men on the prowl, or so it seemed. And I was blowing them off when something told me I should be blowing them.

I got myself to go to a local adult “book” store. Precious few books. A lot of videos. And some booths, some had glory holes. I went. That did help. I sucked my first cock through a glory hole. I was amazed. I really liked it. Better than eating pussy, though I had liked that, and I had seen that men ate ass. I felt I would have to try that if I could. And I enjoyed being in the booth. I learned to keep my door unlocked and so graduated to sucking cock without the anonymity. That was very cool. Then I had a guy wanted to fuck me. I told him I was not clean. He wanted clean. But I felt like I wanted this. But it was no going to happen that day.

I learned about getting clean. Living alone meant I could just do it. I did. Two days later I was back at the ABS. I sucked some cock. Got nude in the booth. I left the door unlocked. Damn if the same guy did not come in. He told me he had seen me come in. “Clean?” I said, “Yes.” He said I will fuck you now. He lubed his cock, lubed my hole. He fucked me. I really, really liked that. He fucked me bareback. My first time getting fucked. And it was raw. Insane. But I liked it. I think I knew I was on to something.

I knew I would and did go back. I sucked any cock put in my face, took any cock offered. All men. Only bareback. I put a lot of money in the video machines. I went home with a lot of loads in my stomach or in my ass – why waste the delight? I went home with a lot of cum in my ass. I learned what to do to protect the upholstery in my car. I did not care if I had a wet spot on my pants when I walked back into my apartment. And I sure did enjoy feasting on any cum and ass juices I could get once I got home. It is incredible to feel a load spill out of your hole. Crazy feeling.

But this was so not social. And if there was anything that sucking and getting fucked had begun to tell me is this – I was not so shy as I thought. At least in the anonymous setting of an ABS. Now another test. See what the results told me to do. And do it.

The divorce went through. The wedding ring was long off. That finger no longer bore the tell-tale signs of having worn a ring. And there were the last six months of cum sucking and sum taking. There was no going to bars to meet women. None. I knew that was a waste. It was time to go to the kind of bar I knew would be better. There were two in town.

I could no longer really be concerned about meeting some I knew in a gay bar. I was no longer married. I no longer worried abt being seen when went to the ABS. Yeah, the ABS, where I more than once found myself sucking or the taking the cock of someone I knew from work, or my apartment complex, or from church. At work there were 2,000 people. I didn’t act embarrassed when we met in the halls. They didn’t. We could meet in the hallways or in the cafeteria – no problem. More than once a chance meeting in the hallways or cafeteria led to a blow job in a remote bathroom. Shit. That was good. Two times I had been able to take the cock on a neighbor two floors up. And the priest… you can guess. And he was the guy warning us from the pulpit about the evils of pre-marital sex. I learned that I might not be able to get the eucharist because of the breakdown of my marriage, and never be able to re-marry in his church, but I could suck his cock and get his cum. So much for the battle with Satan and the Forces of Evil.

From being a sexless married man, I was getting to be a cum sucking, cum eating faggot… cool… but I wanted more. Not just occasional sex. Even sex without a relationship. Do you know what I mean? Maybe some social life? Mabe more…

So, one night, not a week ago, I went finally. Where? To one of the gay bars in my city. I went to Chez Est. I did not know “what” to wear, so it being a summer evening, slacks, short-sleeved shirt, no socks, loafers, a red jock. And I knew to be clean. Being clean made life so much easier. That one time at the ABS had taught me to be clean. Living alone made that was so easy to do. I had come to enjoy my enemas. And crazy me, why not put a BOOF up my hole?  Why not?

What an experience entering. Darkish though with discreet lighting. Music – not too loud but basic and driving and arousing. All men. All kinds. All hot in their way. Tables and two long bars. I looked at the bartenders. Hot. No shirts. One with long blond hair. One with big nipple rings. One tattooed. The fourth just… I was in the right place. But everyone seemed to be in a pair or more. Everyone seemed like they knew someone or had come with someone. I was solo. I did not see anyone I knew. If I saw anyone I knew, why not go up to them and say hi. No one. Solo.

There was one spot at the bar. I walked up. The bartender with the big nipple rings asked me what I wanted. I told him a double Black Label. No reason to be cheap. He brought me the drink. We agreed to run a tab. He took my credit card – he knew may name.

“First time here?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so. Welcome. Enjoy. If you get lonely, I can make some introductions.”

“Thank you.”

“What you are here for?”

“Just looking. Well…” I told him that a) I was my first time here, and b) that I did not know what to expect, but c) it would be very nice to get to know someone.

“To …,” he asked.

“Well, get to know. And…”

He asked, “G, B, C… letter?”

“Probably G, even though I had been married, not Bi. And beyond curious.”

“But not experienced with this scene.”

I admitted, “Yes.”

“No problem. Most of the guys here were once where you are now. Welcome. Get back to me if you would like anything.”

“Let’s start with a another double.”

“A good start… back to you. I’m Sandy, and you are?”

“Jeff.”

“Welcome Jeff. And by the way, you are cute. I might like to get to know you if are still here after 1 and haven’t met anyone.”

“Thank you, Sandy!”

I was only then that I noticed a pentagram tattooed on Sandy’s right arm. What did that mean?

            It was now time for the second double. I turned to look into the room. All pairs or groups. Then…

HE walked up to the bar.

“Hello. I’m Andre.”

“Jeff.”

“Don’t think I have seen you here.” This was a question that I felt I had to answer.

“No, first time,” I said.

“Nice.”

“Join me for a drink?” This guy seemed like a good place to start tonight after my conversation with Sandy.

“Sure. Thank you.” Andre had a compelling voice.” And, would I be right were I to guess you would like to make some new friends?”

“Yeah, I am looking to meet some new people here. Sandy, how about again for Jeff. My usual.”

Sandy nodded his head, smiled. He brought the drinks. I like having a good supply on hand. Andre did not seem to object,

Andre. A bit older. Same height. Probably the same weight. Very white blonde hair. Handsome in a way, well handsome. With incredible eyes. Blue. Piercing. Commanding. His shirt unbuttoned to the waist. I looked. Of course, I looked. Hot chest. No Hair. I could see one nipple pieced and surrounded by that symbol – yes, that is where I had seen the pentagram, the same one I saw on Sandy - you see when you look at the popper training videos that include references to Satan. I wanted to try poppers. Why hadn’t I bought them at the ABS? Next time. Andre. I liked what I saw. I was drawn to him. I could not help looking into his eyes. I saw my reflection, well not quite a reflection, some kind of me made different. This was going to be interesting. I felt I was meeting some one important, someone who knew…

When he gave me my drink, Sandy had said to me that I would like Andre. He whispered it in my ear. He got so close I could feel his tongue flick my ear. “You will really like Andre. If he invites you to his place, go. No questions asked. Not everyone gets an invitation. Not everyone. It is special. I have been there.”

Andre. This was interesting, at least for me. And Sandy was right. I did like Andre from the start. I did. And I do. And I will…

We talked and talked. Two more rounds. I was more than feeling the effects. I was feeling good. He had suggested adding a kicker to the last round. I agreed. I had already told him I would come back to his place. Was I thinking straight? How could I do that. Andre had reached right into me and shown me that I was gay, gay like him and all the other men in Chez Est. Yes, I knew I wanted to go back with him. See what happened. No wife. No family. Work was work. It was a Friday night. Why not? Why not?

I had shared with him my “story” ending up with being here. He told me that it was a good story, a story common to men, so many men, not yet enough men, men who really were gay, for whom the male bond was the real bond in life, where love is and was and would be. And that fulfilling that could take such men, men like him, and maybe me, to a world that had a different focus. And maybe it did include me. Andre told me it included him.

I agreed. The scotch was more than helping me relax. And I wanted so to be open. Just not have to be worrying about every word I said, like at work. This place was helping me be me.

While we were sipping out last round, Andre leaned in. Kissed me. His tongue in my mouth. On the tip of it I felt some kind of pill. I swallowed. I knew I wanted to do whatever he wanted me to. He seemed so to know what was right for me at the moment.

The power of the drinks. The power of the pill. As he spoke more about his life and focus, I felt the power in his eyes as he looked into mine. He told me to look in his eyes while he spoke to me. I did. I wanted to. I could not help but look in his eyes. They drew me to him and from him I found myself beginning to see the world with new eyes, hungry eyes. Gay eyes. Eyes not just cruising for sex, by looking for a different way to look, to focus. This was compelling. He was compelling.

I affirmed to this man I had only met, met in gay bar, but someone who did not feel like a stranger, that I was gay. I was where I was to be. I told me it felt like I was always meant to be here. That I was meant to go home with Andre. That what he was telling me made so much sense. It made sense of the world. It established my place in the world. It was like one of those messages from a prophet, from someone channeling God, but this was not the God I had heard about in churches with the rejection of the flesh. This was a different God, a God embodied at the moment for me by Andre. His eyes. His words. The electric touch of his lips. In that moment when he touched my naked arm and my cock just sprung to an instant erection, an erection straining my slacks, an erection he saw, and then… touched.

I recalled at that moment a poem by Emily Dickinson: #269

Wild Nights! – Wild Nights!

Were I with thee

Wild nights should be

Our luxury!

Futile – the winds –

To a Heart in Port –

Done with the compass – 

Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden –

Ah – the Sea!

Might I but moor – tonight –

In thee!

Yes, I would moor in Him. My Eden would be in Him. No need for a Compass or Chart. They would be him, Andre. In that sign on his chest. In my homosexuality and what that would become.

Wild nights – might this be one!

It was.

It was time go. Sandy winked as I left. Sandy did a thumbs up to Andre.

“You liked Sandy?”

“Yes.”

“You will meet again. He is one with me.”

One with me. What did that mean? A partner, roommate? I would find out tonight as part of this Wild Night.

I followed Andre home. I was feeling so very good, so relaxed, I was so ready, so hungry. He lived in an apartment tower not far from where I worked. I knew the way, though I found I had to drive very, very carefully, not drunk really as much high in an amazing way. The auras of the traffic lights amazing! I was going to the right place tonight. He seemed to know just what would be right for me. I had never felt that before. Maybe there was a hint in the anonymous blowjobs and fuckings leading up to this. But never this. And all he had done was touch me once, and kiss me.

I parked in a guest space. Andre met me at the elevator. He took my arm and guided me into the elevator. As soon as the elevator doors closed, his mouth was on mine, kissing, tonguing.

“Jeff I know you want to be mine.” There was a special sound ashe said ‘mine.” I was taken by it. Felt I knew what that meant. Felt the right answer was, “Fuck, yes.”

He unlocked the apartment door. We went in. He closed the door. He took me into what must have been his living room. It was a room like no other I had seen, something like a shrine, looking something like a sex dungeon but with something that looked like an altar, with candles and a pentagram on its front, an altar with places to restrain someone’s hands – spread, and in front, places to restrain someone’s ankles while worshipping. It felt like home, where I was supposed at that very moment to be. The basic colors were black and red. The lighting was red. On the floor in the middle of the room was a square space with raised sides, an what could be a soft, rubber floor, marked with a pentagram. In the points of each star were brackets like I saw on the altar that I now knew could be used for containing what I sensed was an object of worship. On one wall was a St. Andrew’s cross. Next to it an array of floggers. Where the dining room was was a sling suspended from the ceiling. Tall candelabra stood nearby. Also a place for the focus of worship.

I wondered what that would be, how we would worship there and in the living room, because that was what I felt I wanted to do right here, now, begin the worship of the different God Andre had been telling me about. I was here. In a what seemed to be a kind of holy place, but with a kind of special angelic presence that felt good and right and energizing. Funny, but it reminded of that feeling you can get when you visit a monastery – a place set apart to praise God,  where you know that this is a place for you. Here? Was it really that kind of place.

Soon the rooms where willed with a low kind of music, a kind of chant, mesmerizing, beautiful, celestial. Male voices only. I began to make out some words – praise, worship, bow down, penis, anus, Lord, amen. Andre spoked to

“Jeff. The house rules are simple. Nude when the door closes.”

“Yes, I like that.” I stripped. I knew there was no reason to be shy here, not in Andre’s presence. I would follow him. Where? Anywhere? Yes.

Andre stripped. An amazing sight. Toned body. My eyes were first riveted to his chest, his nipples, pierced. His nipples surrounded by the sign of the interlocked arcs– that shape you saw on toxic waste containers. Riveted. His breasts were a bit rounded, not quite feminine, androgynous, beautiful, enough to hold and worship. I wanted to worship them. Maybe something I had taken made my senses more alive, but what I saw was what I knew I wanted, really wanted. He knew it. His legs. His ass. His arms. His chest. His neck. His face. His cock – damn his cock growing before my eyes! I wanted His hands on me, his cock in me, and, yes, and I did not then understand it, his hands in me. I fell down on my knees. Looked up. Opened my mouth. He gave me his cock. It was like an electric shock ran through me. Without any reservation I started to take his piss, swallowing hungrily. His piss. I had never thought of doing this. Drinking piss. This was magic.

“Drink me. Drink this. Remember your new Lord.”

I did.

“Jeff. Time to talk again. Some wine.”

“Yes.”

Andre walked into his kitchen. His cock rock hard. My desires on overdrive. I was where I should be me.

He came back. Two wine glasses. He put them down. We drank. I stared into his incredible eyes, taken over by his gaze.

“Jeff. You do want this?”

“Yes.”

“Good. My Lord, and soon your Lord, is a different kind of Master and Guide. Not someone distant and disdainful of the world. Someone in love with the world, its imperfections, its possibilities. This Lord calls us to fulfill the life we have, here, now, completely. This Lord knows that men are for men; women for women except when there is a need for procreation. Otherwise sex is homosexual. The sex you have discovered is YOU. Is ME. Raw, without limits when part of worship, worship that we will perform tonight. Do you want this?”

“Yes.” Some power was swirling through my body and brain. “Fully.”

“Good.”

Here I was, nude, aroused, in this strange apartment, with this totally compelling man, giving my faith, my self – body and soul – to a Lord I barely knew but whose power seemed so manifest in Andre. I was captured. I wanted to be converted. Made into me. Knowing that my homosexuality, this homosexuality was not the random choice of a frustrated man, but the coming to the reality of what it meant to be male, to be me.

I drank. I drank. New ways of arousal, openness, desire ran through me. My brain was not my brain. It was His!

“Jeff. From the moment I saw you, I knew you should be here. You looked like I did, then.  When I finally went into my first gay bar, I went first to see if I could cross the line to a new life, little did I know it would be to a renewed life. You were me. And how you responded to me, told me you were me then and I was to be for you now, and that it was my call to call you to you and to a new Lord, my Lord, our Lord. The one his high priest brought me to my new Lord that first in the gay bar, in fact the one you and I were in tonight. While not all who go there are one, many are.”

I was feeling incredible. I felt like shackles had fallen from my limbs, that blinders had feel from eyes and that I saw for the first time, I saw, and knew, knew where I must go, not just should go, that I stood at the door. This man, Andre, knew what was right.

“A new Lord?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“His Name”

“He is both a He and a She. For us he is a He. Some call him Satan. I, we call him the Lord of Living, the Lord of Freedom, and we can call him Lord Satan, a Lord of goodness, not evil because Satan stands for freedom.”

“Yes.”

“Say the Lord’s Name!”

I felt a force surge through me to say the name. I felt Andre’s hand on my hard cock. Then I felt his mouth on my cock. Then I said, “Lord, Lord, of Living, Lord Satan!!!”

He broke away from cock to ask, “What do you ask?”

He took my cock back in his mouth. I erupted with an orgasm that seem to come to me, not from within me, when I said, “Make me Yours. I want to be Yours!”

He stood. We kissed. He shared my cum with me. He said, “Your desire will be granted Let us take our next step in worship. You will find that our Lord loves this world and asks that we accept it and celebrate it through our homosexual love.”

I am not sure I can be a reliable narrator from here on. I can tell only about what I remember. Will I remember everything, tell everything? Not likely. My mind that night was in a swirl and it only got better as the evening wore on, as the weekend wore on, and calling in sick, as the week wore on, ending in being where I find myself now… a new Lord, a new Life, deep freedom in my thrall to a new Lord – fully homosexual. I love saying that this is what I am. With affirmation.

So, let me work on remembering. If things come out of order, for give me.

Andre took me into the center of the Pentagram. He attached my wrists and ankles to four of the five rings in the floor. The star was small enough that I could be on my hands and knees, though large enough that my legs were spread to expose my hungry, yearning ass hole. Andre changed the lights so only spots fell on me. He was in the dark, with just a background of low, red light. I was kept nude. He put on a leather harness, a leather jock, and a leather hood with open eyes and mouth. He put of an eyeless hood on me.

“You will see now with your inner eyes. You will feel with your inner senses. You will accept what I give you.”

“Yes!”

I loved being in the dark.

He put on different music, low, beating, music, sensuous. Then he put earphones over my head so I could focus on what sound meant for me, the sound would become so focusing. A combination of the music and Andre’s words in my ears, his voice modified to make it even more compelling, magical, commanding. I heard. “Love. Love. Serve. Serve. Open to. Open to. Give yourself. Give yourself. Lord. Lord. Satan. Satan. Love. Love. Love men. Service men. Satan loves life. You love life.” Every so often Andre say, “Say Amen.” I did. I said Amen. Over and over. The music played over and over and over, Andre’s chant was  mesmerizing. I was alone with the music, with Andre’s voice, with my response. From time to time a small bottle was placed at my nose.

“Breathe.” The mask had breathing holes. I felt Andre use a finger to close one nostril. “Hold.”

“Breathe. Deep. Hold.”

I felt a wave of desire. A wave of hunger.

Andre asked, “Ready?”

I did not ask for what, I knew the answer was yes, so I said, “Yes.”

“Shout it.”

“YES!!! YESS!!!”

“To whom?”

“Lord!”

“Who?”

“SATAN.”

“Yes, our Lord Satan is coming to you, to welcome you as you come to him now. Jeff, You are a homosexual, you will become a pig,His pig, a slave to the freedom Satan offers.”

“YES, YES, YES.”

I heard him chant again. Then, for the first time I heard another voice. It was Sandy’s. Sandy. He was here. He was probably nude. Probably Hard. So hot. So right to have him here.

“YES, YES, YES.”

I would soon find out what that would mean, though there was more chanting, more calling to Satan, then touching, two sets of hands on my hungry body. Andre’s. Sandy’s. Lips on my nipples. Hands stroking my cock. Hands on my ass. Fingers probing my hole. The mask had an opening for my mouth, so cocks in my mouth, yes, cock, cock, cock. My mind was swirling with desire, with lust, wanting, wanting… more… more.

“YES, YES, YES, YES!”

Cock sucking had never felt better. How natural for me to have a cock in my mouth. And I was able to take it deeper than I had ever done. In fact, I was amazing to be able to take it beyond what had been my gag reflex. What was happening to make that reflex seem to disappear? I could feel Andre’s cock, or Sandy’s cock in my throat, like it was now a cunt. My new faith had made it a cunt too. I love it when the cock head was on my lips, being able to kiss and tongue it. I wanted cum. I tasted the flowing pre-cum.

“Feed me cum.”

“No, feast on the nectar of the Lord.”

The cock on my lips began to pulse and was thrust into ye mouth. Ropes of cum. No gagging. Swallowing. Stopping. Resting in my mouth, my throat. Deep.

“Take my cum.” It was Sandy.

“Take his cum.” It was Andre.

His load. In me. Yes.

“Yes, yes, yes, thank you.”

“A gift of the Lord for the people of the Lord. Holy food of heaven from man’s body.” I heard Andre say those words.

Then one of the men put another mask over my hood. I breathed in. Poppers.

“The incense of Satan.,” said Sandy.

Andre said, “This will be intense.”

It was intense, incredible. I felt myself transported to a higher level of desire. This was an incense. Praise the Lord.

Then began in incredibly sensuous taking of my hole, the sweetest fucking I had ever had. Not like anything I had experienced before. The playing with my hole. The impaling. The incredible feeling of cocks entering and leaving. No wonder I was here. I was a homosexual. Yes. They fucked me. I felt two loads pumped into me. Yes.

“Thank you, Lord.”

“Yes, thanks for the Lord.”

They took off the mask, then stopped. Took of the hood. Sandy and Andre gave me their cocks to suck, to clean, to savor.

“With our seed, you now come closer to us, by mouth, by hole, from us, to you, we in you. One day you in us. Our fluids, our fluids.”

“Yes.”

They freed me from the restraints. My body shook with fulfillment, desire.

 We passed around a single cup filled with a sweet wine.

“This is our cup. Filled with wine, more than wine. Drink this. You drink this. We drink this. Let our worship continue, sharing our bodies as gay men, dedicated to the sexual worship of our Lord.”

I said, “Amen.”

We drained the cup. Then had another, individual cup. We drank. I was transfixed.

Andre asked, “Bob are you ready?”

“I am.”

New waves of lust and excitement were washing over me. In the red light our bodies all glowed now.

Andre and Sandy offered me their cocks. I took them. Sucking one, then the other, then both. Their hands were on my head – a kind of laying on of hands.

“Suck us, suck us…”

My body was electric. My mouth was insatiable. The door of the apartment opened. Three more men entered. They stripped. Then stood at three of the points of the pentagram, cocks hard, bodies red in the light, their nipples pierced, their nipples surrounded by the toxic sign Andre and Sandy bore on their chests. Was I joining them. Yes!

Andre and Sandy stepped back to a point.

Andre said, “Now taste of them, Bob.”

 I did. Each cock was in its way awonder, one so thick I could barely take it my mouth, one slender one with an incredible mushroom head; one was black, one Hispanic, one Asian. Slim, burly, tall, short, nude, men, hard, their cocks in my hungry mouth. I wanted their cum.

Then we all shared a cup.

“Bob,” said Sandy, “now it is time for you to observe our worship, to learn more of what we do and how we do it. Then you will be asked to join fully.”

“Yes, Andre.”

There were five.

I was attached to the St. Andrew’s Cross. My mind was awash in desire for men. I would be able to watch.

They formed a kind of circle on the floor. They lay down. They formed a circle of cock sucking men. It was beautiful. I wanted to be part of it. One day, I would be. The sucked cock. Held ass. Then they rose and formed a line. Ass eating. Only Andre was not eating ass. I wanted to eat. Then the got on their knees, joining their bodies with their cocks. Their cocks. My mind was on fire.

And then, the created a circle on their knees. What were they doing. They began to fist each other. Five men fisting. How easily their holes took a fist. I had only seen fisting in videos. Now it was real, in front of me. Real. Would my hole become like theirs? I wanted it so.

They broke apart. Sat in a circle. Holding hands.  It was so sensual.

Jeff broke from the group. He released me from the St. Andrew’s Cross.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, brother. I am ready.”

Jeff lifted me up, and led me to the sling.

“Get comfortable, Bob. Get comfortable. You are becoming one with us.”

You know a sling. How it nestles you and holds you for getting fucked and fisted, how the head end can be adjusted for sucking cock. I was in it. A first for me. Amazing. Andre secured my wrists and ankles, adjusted my ass so it was properly open. Sandy gave me his cock to suck. How I wanted it. His cock. To join fully. I had decided to join. Sandy started to fuck my face. My head could fall back in the sling so he stood behind my head and I took his cock as deep as I could. My mouth flowed with saliva. My hole would be next. Andre stood along side the sling and told me that I would now be bred by the three men who had joined us, that their hot, special loads would join the loads already in my ass, that they would fuck me without restraint, and that sometime during this fucking I would receive a special gift. I would be slammed. He asked if I knew what that was. I said “yes, yes, yes.” He told me it would happen, and that the night would continue.

Andre and one of the other men paired off so they could fuck while I was being fucked and fed cock. It was so hot seeing these rothers breeding so freely, flip fucking, ass-to-mouth sucking. The fifth man kept his hands on my body, rubbing it, massaging it, pinching my nipples, rubbing my body with oil. Then the three began to circle me, fucking me, feeding me cock, working my nipples with suction devices. I was so turned on by sucking cocks right out of my ass. Fucked raw. Raw cock in my mouth. My nipples distending from the suction. Fucking, sucking. Andre and his friend joined the circle. Fucking me, fucking me. My hole was on fire. Five men gangbanging my hole, my hole. This was so far beyond any dreams I might have had.

“Fuck, he is so open. His hole is pulsing, reaching for cock. Let’s open him more!”

“Yes, more.”

But first, we each must fill him with the fluid of our love, and in turn allow him to taste that fluid in his mouth.”

“Amen”

Now they would finally cum in me. Yes. The fucking resumed. Then five loads. Five more times ass-to-mouth, this time with the funky taste of cum added to my juices.

They pulled back.

“Time?”

“Yes”

“Bob, are you ready?”

“Yes Andre!”

“Are we ready to consummate this worship?”

The five men began to chant, “Yes. Yes. Come Lord, Come Lord. To us. In us. In him. HIM in him. HIM in him. Mark him with our holy fluid full of you Lord. We Love him, we love YOU!”

Quiet. The sling gently moved. They prepared what looked like six needles for six… yes, I wanted this!

The circled around me. They started to inject each other going clockwise. They knew what they were doing. Prepping the arm. The injection. The shudder. The elation.

“Now you, Bob. Say this. Come to me Lord!”

“Come to me Lord!”

Then the injection. My God – the electrical jolt, the shock, the shudder, the transformation.

Andre said, “Now. Brothers. Now.”

And they began. As I became one with them, they chanted, “In him, for HIM. In him. For HIM. Make him US for HIM. Lord.”

This was it. I knew I had crossed over. Bareback, drugs, and T. Maybe there had been a turning back, but not tonight. Tonight it was the commitment to this new Lord. Andre was my high priest. I was be converted tonight to a new Lord.

Fuck the “normal.” If my ex-wife could be a lesbian… well, I am what I am, gay, a faggot, a pig, intense… go for it. I went for it. My body was no longer mine, no longer mine. It was HIS, theirs, Amen.

A new round robin began. My hole was the focus.

Another round of intense fucking. My hole so open, so hungry, my desire so overwhelming.

“More? More? More?

They turned my head to look at something they had brought into the room. It was large fist, placed so I could see it.

“This?” They asked.

“Yes.”

Then the feeling of not of a hard cock head at the entrance to me hole,  fingers, sometimes coning, touching, caressing my ass lips. Spreading them. Probing my well-fucked hole. Spreading. See how much it could open.

“Lord, let me in to the holy place.” That was Andre. A man on each of the four chains bean to rock the sling slowly. In my lust, I felt Andre lubing my hole, saw him lubing his hand, saw him position his coned hand to be right where my hole would be when the sling next rockedh is way. I felt the chains brought to their highest point. They let go. I swung towards Andre’s lubed hand. Then felt my anus stretch like it had never stretched.

“Owww.”

Then his hand was in me. They held the sling steady.

“Ah.”

In me. Shit, in me. He held it there, steady, then Andre started to rotate his wrist in me. Sensations never felt before radiated in all directions from my anus/rectum – so full, so stretched. Then he pulled back to stretch me more…
            “Yes!”

“Yes, Bob.”

“Yes, Andre. Incredible.”

The T rush made me insatiable for more. To be fisted. To give my hole to these men. My brothers who told me they were taking it for our Lord.

They did.

A rotation began. Fisting. Another fist. The sling set in motion. They let me take charge of the swing so I could feel like it was fisting myself.

A break for a rotation of fucking. My hole was so loose. So much like what I thought loose cunt would be like.

“Your hole is our cunt, Bob. Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“We will eat from it now…”

And they did. Each of the five dived into my open hole, tonguing, touching, their faces came to my face wet with ass juices, slippery with lube. I kissed them hungrily.  

I wanted them to fuck me again. But first it was time for them to surround me and rake my body with small floggers, my skin becoming red, on fire, then hands reaching for my nipples, pinching, twisting… I was on fire. Why was I loving this? I was.

“Give your body!”

“Yes!”

“Give your soul!”

“Yes!”

“Be a slave to your Lord!”

“Yes!”

Then they stopped. In sequence they sucked my cock. My cock. They knew when to stop, when I was nearing explosion. The men not sucking my cock were now rubbing my body with oil, cooling my skin, but not my lust.

Another slam.

They started to fuck me again. Taking turns.

“Take our loads. Take our loads. Sweet loads of Satan! The food of your Lord. Amen.” They chanted this in unison as they fucked me. A wild night. In a new Port. Moored in the love of these men and Satan, their Satan, now my Satan. I craved this totally.

They stopped. MY cunt was empty. Cum was dripping out. Each man felched some cum for my hole and passed it to me.

“Food of the Lord.”

They gave me their cocks to clean with my tongue and mouth. I loved this amazing intimacy of my ass, their cock, their cum, my juices, my mouth. Union.

Then a new chant. “Fist him. Punch him. Destroy his hole and make it ours!” That was Andre.

Chanting began, “Lord for you. Lord for you. Another hole for Satan. Make this cunt Yours. Make this pussy ours.”

The T kept me so hungry. We were all hungry. My hole was fisted, brutally, with no regard for anything but its destruction and remaking it as a true cunt.

They twisted their fists in my hole. They milked my prostate. Cum flowed from my cock. They drank it did and then passed cum into my hungry mouth.

“Destroy my cunt!!! Destroy my cunt!!! I give it to you, to Satan!”  I shouted.

They did.

Sometimes two men joined their fists into a single fist, doubling my, stretching me, taking me where I now knew I should go. What had they done to my once tight hole? Remade it as a new place. Finally Andre stood at my gaping hole and double punch fucked me relentlessly, his fists finally just seeming to slide in with no resistance. No resistance.

His fists were wet with lube, and with some blood, my blood, the blood of anus and rectum.

Finally.

Andre commanded, “Bob, push on your cunt. Give birth to your rosebud.”

I pushed, pushed, then felt my hole seem to open out.

“What an incredible rosebud, Bob. We have in one night made you prolapse!  Your hole is so wrecked.” I heard Andre say that as he slipped his hand back into my cunt. He cradled his cock in the hand he had in my ass, then jerked off in me. The other four men did likewise… Five more loads. Five what I knew were toxic loads. Potent in their work because the blood was a sign that my cunt would absorb their gift.

I must have passed out.

When I awoke, only Andre was there.

I am still there. He knew what I wanted. I want this. I have not been to work for a week, not because I could not go, but I called in sick to be able to be here. I do not mind that my hole does not really want to close. I love the huge plug that keeps me open. Andre was put one out that I can squat on while at the altar. We manage any “mess.”

I am where I want to be. I want to stay here. Serve my new Lord, and my Master – Andre and his fellows who I so love to have use me as they want.

My worship will be getting me deeper and deeper in bondage. Andre has told me this. What I have experienced of BDSM is so wonderful. To be helpless under their sexual onslaught as the pig I am.

Thank you, Lord.