Showtime Begins In:
The Master (Ritual)
Categories: BDSM, First Time, Taboo, Mind Control, Reluctance Tags: dominance, Sexual Sadism
A week had gone by and the sleeping demon lays restless, eager to get out of its cage. Hunger evident on his rambling and a thirst for blood compels him yet once more; as convincing as a malefic force in a tidal wave of gigantic proportion.
"It's time my friend, we need to feed and find our prey."
That little voice whispering and keeps nudging him slowly takes shape behind the mirror above the sink. A person glowing, with a pair of dark angel's wings, smiling at him with eyes ablaze with menace and acrimonious sweetness - a deadly concoction sipping in his spirit, filling it with a desire so stringent as a turbulent storm brewing on the horizon ahead.
Exclaiming indifference, he finally agrees and mentally shakes the hand of the monster; embracing the challenge, knowing that it’s what he really wants or rather, what he really needs to quench the craving within him.
And with that, he and the demon become one and the same. No more reflection, no more conversation, no more confusion – fueled by the same advertence and malevolent intentions, his thoughts flee, sure of its direction. It went to the building next to his own and the vivid image of the reception desk and its occupant flashed on his conscious mind, Hilda...
Hilda, her long black hair shining like a queen's crown that beacons his attention…
Hilda, just the ripe age of 25, the same age of his Ma when his Pa left the family for a wealthy ninny and starts whoring away her virtue just to feed him and his sibling.
He remembered all her cries of pain, more often than her moans of pleasure; resonating through the thin walls of their home. He often dreamed about all her drunk customers who liked it when the children watched as they violated her while cries of their horror echoes like music to their ears.
In a helpless state, they all endured, until such time that she no longer wakes from her fainted state…
Hilda, whose wanton way threatens the protection of her very own children; not worrying if she screwed one beau after beau after beau just to satisfy the nymph within, her conjoined twin, seemingly more important than her own offsprings.
Hilda, needs his help. She needs to be guided to the path of enlightenment. The errors of her way calls for sound judgment and punishment without delay. God is watching and the son of man would oblige on the day of eschaton.
No lady should be what she is!
No kids should go through what they had been through!
No mother should allow that, and do what she does!
A cause worthy of his endowment!
His resolve so muscular, he gets ready for the vigilance. When the moon comes looking down and when its fullness illuminates the sky, Hilda would meet with her destiny...
Her true love would come and no matter the resistance of the zodiacs, star crossed lover they may have, no reprieve would be given and no salvation would be forthcoming.
Hilda, the bed of daisies await her presence in his secret garden behind the ancestral home that serves as his second dwelling.
Inside his car, the stereo calms his mind. As he patiently waits for her shift to end, his own soothing voice recites a chant he recorded for he may forgot...
In the windowless basement,
No sound would escape it.
Make her scream in terror,
Let her wail in pain!
No one would hear her pleas for survival...
No one would ever care!
Three hours of torture and excruciation,
Strip her, unnerve her!
Gag her, clamp her!
Electrocute her with her feet...
Submerged on a basin of water!
Pull out her nails...
One by one with a plier!
Whip her back and mark her!
Bind her to the Rack,
Dislocate her bones from its sockets!
Slice her tits with a katana,
Burn her clit with cigarette!
Violate her rectum,
With a nine inch choke pear!
Fuck her only after then;
Deposit all of the would be children...
In a womb that'd soon whither!
Slowly drain the life out of her...
With hands incased in a pair...
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