Chapter 1 -- Where do I start?

Start at the beginning, and go through the middle until you get to the end. 

Well, OK. There was a beginning, but I don't really remember it.  The earliest memories I have seem to all have pain as the common thread. 

There was the time my parents were burning leaves and brush in an oil drum, using a hoe to stir the coals.  I came outside and promptly stepped on the hot hoe, barefooted.  That hurt a lot. I was about 4 years old.

Then there was the turkey.  My dad won a turkey at a Thanksgiving turkey shoot.  It wasn't the target, though, just the prize.  It was alive for a few days and I fell in love with it.  Then it "died" and we ate it.  My friend was gone.  That hurt, too.

And my friend, Robin: She and I were quite precocious and decided we would marry. We were both maybe 5 years old.  We had a ceremony in the old barn/garage behind her house and then announced the nuptials.  Both our families teased us about it endlessly.  After a couple of days, we ran away.  We got about 3 houses down the street and asked a neighbor for sanctuary.  We thought he would help us hide.  He betrayed our trust and called our parents.  More pain and embarrassment, and the lesson learned that we could never trust anyone with important secrets again. The punishment hurt, too.  First they run us off with their cruel laughter, and then they punish us for trying to get away from it.  The teasing got worse. How fucked up is that?  

It all stopped though, when another neighbor left some cans of beer where we could find them, and we drank ourselves into a fine stupor on our "sour pop." Robin and I were found unconscious, with several dead soldiers and a can opener.  The nurses and doctors were pissed at our parents, which of course got us punished again.  Next lesson learned:  Shit runs downhill, and children are at the bottom.

Some of my early memories are better, mostly around the holidays, like the time my hated cousin fell and broke her arm, then blamed me for pushing her. She was really good at blaming me for everything.  That's why I hated her.  No one listened when I explained that I was in the kitchen with gra'mamma (on my mother's side) when the accident happened.  I was punished severely with a belt to my bare butt, in front of most of the family, then gra'mamma learned of the episode and uncharacteristically raised holy hell about the fact that I was telling the truth and that all the adults were guilty of a rush to judgment, which was contrary to her strongly held Christian convictions.  She made each and every one of them apologize to me, and promise to go to church to ask forgiveness publicly. I loved her for that. But the red marks on my butt didn't fade for a long time.  It hurt like hell. And nobody did anything to the cousin with the broken arm for lying about it.  Of course I learned that I had to learn how to lie to avoid punishment, because the truth wasn't the correct answer, especially when there wasn't even a crime of which I could be guilty.

Another, less severe, incident occurred a few days later at my dad's parents' house, when my name was discovered carved into my grandparents' bed footboard.  Everyone was sure that I had done it until a bright relative pointed out that I was only five, and couldn't even spell my name yet, much less write it, and that the engraving must be a miracle, unless another suspect could be found.  Another, older, cousin, with a brand new pocketknife, was quickly identified and punished.  But I'll never forget the accusing looks and instant belief that I was the troublemaker and must be punished, nor how close I came to that objective being realized with the razor strop that hung in my grandparents' bedroom, and how powerless I was in this whole situation. I think that was when I came to the realization that damn near everyone hated me, but it took a long time to discover why.

Chapter 2 -- Outcast

So they all hated me because I was (and am to this day) different.  I now know the reason is my intelligence.  I was not a threat at five, but they all recognized my potential.  I am so very lucky that murder is a crime, yet they found other ways to assert their power over me, hoping that I would never overcome the weight of their abuse, to soar in my own right, to find the happiness that comes from an unbridled intellect seeking its match.

What they succeeded at was to ensure my disdain for the majority of the human race.  Petty, snarling little animals, fighting over bones that were tossed to them after greater ones enjoyed their steak.  They are inferior, unthinking brutes, whose only abilities are to inflict suffering and destroy the creations of their betters.  How I despise them. 

It is likely that you, the reader, are a member of this worthless group of sycophantic parasites, living only on the efforts of those who do not understand the nature of the hatred you have for them, your superiors. I have no sympathy for you. We are the ones who create, build, design and finance the things you use without thought.  We are the ones who think.

When I was young and idealistic, I had some ideas about how to solve some of the health problems humans suffer.  The schools I attended made sure that I learned that such ideas were unacceptable in one so young and naďve, that there was no way that such a one as I could ever be involved in their solution.  So, I didn't cure cancer or diabetes.

I'm sure that some of those who scoffed at me have since died of cancer or diabetes.  It's been said that the best revenge is to outlive one's enemies.  How apt. I love irony.

So, you see that your hatred has served you well.  I will not do anything for you to make your life easier or longer. Since your hatred of me is rooted in your self-hatred, it would not be in my interest to prolong your self hatred.  You are welcome to your misery, and it is my pleasure to add to that misery.

I have adopted your ideas.  Since pain is your favorite tool, I will use it as mine.  Rest assured that I am much more creative than the Attillas and Hitlers of the past, and have absolutely no interest in conquest or power over worthless sheep. I will neither prolong nor cut short your pitiful, but unpitied, existence.  I will merely make it less tolerable while it lasts.

Your pain is my pleasure.  It thrills me to hear you screaming as the flail strips the flesh from your bones, as the extremes of temperature elicit tremors from your muscles, as the agony of exhaustion and terror shows in your eyes. Your inability to control your own destiny is a cartoon, even better than the Roadrunner vs. Wile E. Coyote. The fun starts when you think my offer of water or warmth or a cooling salve is weakness or kindness.  But it's really only my way of prolonging my pleasure, of adhering to my promise to never cut short your worthless life.  After all, I keep my promises.  You WILL suffer. And I will enjoy it.

Of course there are some of you who actually enjoy pain, who get a sexual thrill from it.  Those are special ones, whose limits must be tested only once, then denied their pain/pleasure forever, isolated from all sensation, denied all human contact, kept alive by tasteless food.  Blinded, deafened and bound, preventing self abuse or stimulation, but on display for the viewing pleasure of my kind, naked and ashamed of your place in the world we control, an object to be used and discarded at our whim.  Left to your own devices, you would manage to derive pleasure from your abasement, but this we deny you by the bondage you so willingly assume, the bondage of your own simple mind.  You gave us you, without reservation or hesitation, hoping only that we would feed your hunger for pain, but in our wisdom we recognize you for what you are and in order to fulfill our promise to you, deny you that which you crave.  You don't even know what you are: Nothing, deserving and getting nothing.

It is a real treat to see the light in your eyes when I lie and tell you that I love you and that you are beautiful.  You believe that I wouldn't really hurt you, not really.  You are too stupid to see that I already have, that my amusement at your gullibility is the worst kind of abuse.  I told you that your pain is my pleasure, but you cannot comprehend the depth of my spite or just what I am willing to do to have my pleasure of you.  Even your meager understanding of your place is a weapon for me.  Playing with your emotions and your reality is simply another way for me to hurt you, and you will discover this in the fullness of time.  I will turn it upon you when you least expect it, and you will face the reality of insanity. It is inevitable.  You will give all to me and I will discard it with the day's trash.  Then I will fill your empty shell with whatever I have handy, so that I may repeat the torment tomorrow, after I rest.  Again you will scream "But this isn't what I wanted" and I will give it to you anyway.

Chapter 3 -- Epiphany

In college, my formation continued with the kind assistance of others who hated me on sight. I learned more about humiliation and degradation from their generous attentions.

One night as I slept in my room, a group of pranksters, apparently fueled by a nearby frat party's loose alcohol policies, broke in and seized me from my bed using some sort of chemical soaked rag to render me unconscious.  I wonder if they were amused by the fact that I slept naked.  I certainly wasn't surprised to wake up naked, but I was surprised to wake up in the back if some sort of vehicle. I was hogtied, blindfolded and gagged.  My head was pounding, and when I moaned some one whispered that they thought I was waking.  Hands roughly grabbed me and turned me from my stomach onto my side, exposing my privates.  I felt something soft, like a feather, teasing me and soon, the gallant reflex was apparent.  Whispered comments ridiculed my size and the ease with which I was aroused.  The kindest remarked that I must be queer to be so easily stimulated by a group of men.   I couldn't tell what or who they were, but I defy any of them to remain stoic in my situation.

The   motion of the vehicle changed from that of smooth highway to that of rutted dirt road and the feather, if that's what it was, continued its teasing. The bouncing of the vehicle caused it to become a bit more insistent, and I was starting to feel the pain of my bondage.  After what could have been a few minutes or an hour, the vehicle came to a stop.  I heard what sounded like a car door opening and felt some hands on the ropes pick me up and carry me, still bound, and hand me off to another group of hands at a lower level.  I know because my stiff cock was banged against something under me as I was lowered.  The next thing I felt was cold water and rocks under me as I was placed face down. The water was not deep, maybe an inch, and the contours of the ground suggested a creek or a drainage ditch. 

Then someone pressed a rag to my nose and I succumbed once again to that noxious chemical.  When I awoke, my hands were only loosely bound and I was no longer hogtied. My head was resting on a large rock. The pounding in my head was even worse than before, but I managed to free my hands with a bit of struggle.  I thought I was still blindfolded, but then realized that I could see a little. They had taken the rags they had used to gag and blindfold me with them.  I guess it was to make sure that I had nothing with which to cover myself.  As the throbbing headache subsided and my eyes adjusted, I freed my legs and feet from the constricting rope.  The cold water had taken care of my erection.

I was in a ditch on the side of a dirt road, with a rivulet of muddy water from recent rains running through it.  Fate had decreed that my trials were to happen during the new moon, and it was quite dark.  It looked like the rain might start up again at any minute, adding to the gloom and cold.  It was early October in the southeast US and the temperature was probably in the high sixties and dropping. 

I got to my feet, wobbly from the bondage and the drug, and looked around for signs of habitation.  On one side, the road was bordered by a forest and on the other, a pasture or field, fenced with barbed wire and split rail posts. There were no animals, no people and no house or barn.

As my eyes and head cleared, I began to see a hazy light in the distance, not like a streetlight, but more like a well lit parking lot a long way off.  Without my glasses, I could not be sure.  The road went in that direction and so did I.  I can navigate a little from stars when I can see them but they were only blurry spots through the openings of heavy clouds.  I was completely lost, naked, dirty, wet and cold, and the bastards had taken my watch, too.  Two bouts of unconsciousness had rendered my time sense useless.  I was miserable, but my resolve to get home and get even won over my shame and humiliation.

The trek down that road was hellish.  It varied between muddy, slippery rocks and rocky mud. Every step reminded me that I should have gone barefoot more during my teens.  Every time I slipped in the mud it seemed a new abrasion appeared on the soles of my feet, adding to their tenderness.  Several times I simply sat down in the mud to relieve the pain in my feet.  It was during the last of those rests that I saw it.

Headlights on a car! Coming down the road from the direction I was heading.  Not sure who it was, and wanting to be seen only at my choice, I decided to hide until I could scope out the vehicle. I was pretty sure that the pranksters were in a van or pickup so a car would most likely not be them coming back for more entertainment.  I didn't stop to think that I would be able to identify them if they did, and that they would be stupid to do that.  The only real place to hide was a boulder about fifteen feet back that I had noticed while resting, so I jumped behind it and waited, peeking out to see who or what was coming.  As I watched, I realized that it was a car, and that it had a powerful spotlight mounted on it.  The light was probing the ditches and woods and pasture as the car slowly cruised down the road. 

I nearly shouted as I stepped out from behind the boulder, certain that it was a police cruiser, and I was rescued.  One hand covering my privates and one hand waving wildly, I was pinned by the light.  A voice boomed from a PA speaker "Put your hands up and don't move."  It was a FEMALE voice. I replied that I had no clothes and asked for help and was rewarded with another order "FREEZE AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP OR I WILL SHOOT." I froze and put my hands up and as I did so, I heard the giggles of several girls from the open windows of the car.  Mortified, but unsure what to do and blinded by the spotlight, I simply stood as four college age women exited the car and approached me.  They were in silhouette and reminded me of vampires.

The driver and apparent leader came closer and I saw that she really did have a gun.  When it's pointed at you it's always HUGE.  She raised it and pointed it at my crotch and began to squeeze the trigger.  For a moment the world spun as I realized that my revenge was not to be, then the stream of ice cold water hit my groin and I collapsed from the shock of it all, babbling and pleading.

My collapse was just the ticket for their plans, as I was shortly blindfolded, gagged and bound with hands behind my back.  The water gun, which they must have kept on ice, was used liberally to remove the mud that covered me but it ran out and they had some rags that they must have dipped in the ice water to clean the rest.  They weren't shy about what they rubbed either.  I hadn't realized how stimulating ice cold wet towels could be and they weren't satisfied until I was rock hard yet again. 

They led me to the car and made me sit sideways on the seat while they wiped my feet to remove the last of the mud and blood. Then I was womanhandled into the center of the rear seat.  They grabbed my legs and pulled them apart until the small of my back was on the edge of the seat and I was split as wide as I could be.  Then they tied them in place.  This put my crotch in the opening between the bucket seats in front and accessible to all four of them.  To keep me in place, a rope was pulled up between my back and arms and tied to each side of the seat in back of me. 

For a while, all I could hear was an occasional snicker and some unidentifiable sounds, and then, all of a sudden, my cock exploded in pain. One of them had hit it with a wet rag, snapping it like a locker room towel. I screamed into the rags that filled my mouth and wrestled uselessly with the ropes that immobilized me.  The next stroke was to the underside of my balls and I nearly broke my legs struggling to free them.  This went on until I was completely defeated, physically exhausted and little more than a raving idiot. 

The car started up and in my daze I felt one of them rubbing a soothing cream of some sort into my cock and balls, and like the mindless animal I had become, the primal urge once again manifest itself. 

My arousal lasted until the soothing cream started to warm up, getting hotter and hotter every second, until I was sure they were using a candle to torture me.  It was one of the medications that athletes use on sore muscles, never intended for such delicate areas.  I sobbed and struggled, but the heat just kept getting more and more intense. 

The pain kept me from noting much about the trip and my torturers for some time.  When I was finally able to come back to humanity, I realized that the car was on a smooth road.  Someone started rubbing ice on my nipples and chest, getting lower and lower with each pass, until it finally was held against my balls where it stayed until it melted.  After the heat, that almost felt good.  The fingers teased me erect, gently pinching and massaging, but never doing anything to relieve the need I had to cum.

That went on until the tone of the tires changed, the car slowing, turning across a bump and then the noise of diesel engines and the smell of fuel.  Someone tossed a blanket over me, and said "We are going to get something to eat, don't go anywhere, OK?"  Snickers and giggles accompanied this remark, and then I was left alone, frustrated.

I wondered if they would give me something to drink.  The gag had dried my mouth completely.  They were gone a long time, and they didn't offer anything when they returned. 

Instead, wordlessly, they climbed in, started the car, removed the blanket and started tickling me.  Nothing was off limits, my feet, my underarms, the insides of my thighs, my balls. It was like they knew exactly where I was sensitive, and they used fingernails and things that felt like feathers or straw wrappers.  I was soon rampant again.  Their next torture was rubber bands. First they would pop me somewhere, and then wrap the band around my cock or balls or both.  I lost count at about thirty bands constricting my manhood.  Their favorite target for the popping wasn't my crotch, but my nipples.  They had to be cherry red from the abuse.  But my friendly fiends weren't finished with my nipples when the bands were used up. They were the target for more of the devilish cream. 

As I moaned, one of them whispered in my ear "It's almost time for the party that starts at dawn.  You are the centerpiece.  You will do what you are told, or what has happened here will seem like a school picnic.  Do you understand?"

I nodded, knowing that my trials were not likely to end soon.  I only hoped that someone would allow me a drink of water and a chance to pee.

I didn't know it yet, but I was soon to find that I was being photographed.  Some of the sounds I had heard were to turn out to be a camera and flash unit. All of my torments had been memorialized in 35mm SLR glory.

The only way I was ever going to get my revenge was to gain power over those who had humiliated and emasculated me. It was to take a long time, and I had begun to plan carefully. The first step was to survive the day.

Chapter 4 -- The Tests and Results

As my nipples warmed and my cock and balls throbbed within the elastic cocoon, the car turned and the ride became very bumpy.  The ropes holding me began to abrade my skin wherever they touched, and then, the car stopped.

I felt something touch my nipples and then my dry throat was tortured again from another weak attempt to scream.  The clamps they then placed on me were serrated and bit cruelly into the fire pit of pain that those tiny nerve centers had become.  After a minute of intense agony, I felt more movement there, and then some sort of elastic band, attached to the clamps, was stretched down under my balls, pulling the clamps even tighter, and lifting my package toward them.  A hand started jerking me off, banging painfully against my stretched sack.  "I just want to make sure you don't lose it before the presentation" a voice whispered in my ear.

The ropes holding my legs were released, and the rope behind my back removed and I was guided out of the car and to my feet by the hand on my cock.  It felt good after so much pain, but I had no illusions that it was there for my happiness.  I could feel morning sun on my fair skin, but my blindfold prevented any sight of my surroundings.  My sense of hearing was unimpaired, though, and I could hear the sounds of people moving about and conversing in low tones.  I followed my guide until her grip on my shaft was released.  My cock was aching for attention, and screaming about the attention it had received, conflicting sensations that had me confused. 

I was pushed back into a chair and the clamps were released, sending daggers of intense pain through my body.  The rubber bands around my cock and balls were roughly removed and the feelings of freedom finally resulted in the release I had sought, not a cum, but a stream of piss out of my erect cock, something I didn't think possible, and to this day wish never to experience again.  The urine went where it was pointed, straight into my face and hair. I peed for a while, and all around me I heard mocking laughter and derisive comments. 

The gag was removed from my mouth and the blindfold from my eyes.  As I blinked to adjust to the sudden bright light after so long in darkness, my hands were released and I was free. 

A woman stood before me.  She was a platinum blonde, probably in her late twenties, with sizable breasts and movie star legs.  She was wearing an outfit that I would call a pixie dress, although it probably was what they call a sun dress. I'm no fashion aficionado, but it looked expensive to me.  She addressed me in a contralto that went straight to my libido.

"You are here to serve us, the Coven of Lorfena, in our celebration of the first new moon of autumn.  Serve us well and your reward will be great.  Serve us poorly and your trials will be even greater.  Our minions did well in choosing you, for you have shown the strength and will to survive the first of the three tests. Now you must prove that you can keep a promise, no matter the temptation to break it. If you do so, you will pass the second test and move on to the third. Will you continue now, or shall we be forced to convince you?"

I was sure that she could convince me of anything, given that there were at least fifty of them. Yeah, they were women, but fifty women against one guy?  I could see no choice but to accept the challenge. How hard could it be to keep a promise?  "I will continue now. I will do my best to meet your needs."

She grinned and said "That will be determined."  With that she clapped her hands and announced "The second test begins.  Your promise is this, and you must say it exactly as it is written." She handed me a piece of paper.

"I promise that I will not touch any woman here with my hands unless she puts them on her body, also that I will not touch myself on the cock or balls unless directed to do so. I will keep my hands clasped either behind my back or on my stomach, at my discretion. I do not fail if a woman touches my hands while they are in one of these positions.  This promise starts when the gong sounds and will last until the gong sounds again just before midnight tonight, at which time, if I have passed this second test, I will proceed to the third and final test."  I didn't bother reading it silently first, I just read it out loud and handed the paper back to her. She raised her hands above her head, clapped slowly three times and the gong rang. I hurried to clasp my hands behind my back. 

Three of the women came up to me and led me to a small wooden platform under a tree. I looked up and realized that it was an outdoor sun warmed shower.  Since it was only a few minutes past dawn I had my doubts that it would be warm, though. I was right.  For the second time is a few hours, I was treated to the ministrations of women with cold towels scrubbing me clean of my own piss and sweat from my earlier struggles. I kept my hands behind my back while they worked.  Two of them each took one of my hands and saying that it was not a violation of my promise to allow this, scrubbed them clean and applied some lotion.  I did turn my head up and catch some of the water in my mouth to relieve my thirst while they cleaned my nails.  It was refreshing. They were gentle, but thorough.  I practically gleamed when they were done. My hair squeaked while they rubbed it dry.  My red, rough and sore genitals were gently cleaned and treated with a true balm, no heat this time.  My feet were cleaned and antiseptic was applied.

After they placed my hands behind my back they took me over to a stool near a table laden with food and drink.  I sat and they proceeded to feed me and quench my thirst with some excellent fruit punch.  The food was simple but delectable, obviously the work of a talented cook. I asked if they would move away briefly so I could switch my hands to my stomach as the position was getting uncomfortable, but they each took a hand in theirs and moved them for me, saving me from the possibility of violating my promise.  One told me that they wanted me to succeed and there would be no attempts to trick me into breaking my promise, as the test would get hard enough that that wouldn't be necessary.  When she reached down and began to rub my cock, saying that it was permissible for me to come, but the longer I waited, the easier my test would be, I began to get an idea just what was in store, and then I giggled at her double entendre.

It was an incredible situation, naked male among several dozen casually dressed females, being publicly aroused while they watched. That's about the time I saw the cameras.  Still cameras were held by some, movie cameras were mounted on tripods, and lighting arrays were set on stands all around the clearing we were in.

While being fed and stroked, I noticed that the car I had arrived in was gone, and then that there were no other vehicles in sight. I briefly wondered how all these women had traveled.  As the stroking got more insistent, the thought that I should look for the brooms that they had ridden popped into my head and I laughed at the mental picture.

She stopped the stroking, and wiped the pre-cum from the tip of my cock with her pink tongue.  I heard the car motor and watched as it pulled in.  One of my torturesses got out and came over to me with an envelope.  It contained pictures of me, standing naked and muddy on a dirt road with my hands in the air, and more; my gagged and blindfolded face, tears on my cheeks, my cock and balls crisscrossed with rubber bands, my nipples red from torture; then a close-up of my nipples cruelly pinched by alligator clips; and a wider angle picture of my nipples and crotch showing the clips connected by what appeared to be a piece of men's underwear elastic band, stretched under my balls.  But the best and last was a picture of me sitting blindfolded and gagged, pissing through a rock hard erection onto my own face. 

I was speechless.  It was bad enough to have been humiliated and hurt, but for them to have the proof of it and the ability to show it to anyone was almost enough to make me forget my promise.  I knew, though, that I had to pass these tests, if only to prove I could and to save what was left of my pride.  I had totally forgotten about the classes I was missing, and hadn't even considered what my room might have suffered at the hands of my enemies.

I was told to stay on the stool and as the day passed, the women that had washed me were replaced by others that continued the stroking and suggestive talk.  Then they were replaced by others.  When I mentioned that I had to pee again, I was treated to a new and totally unexpected development. 

I don't know where she had been kept, but they brought out a blindfolded and bound woman from somewhere. She had a ring gag in her mouth that matched the rings in her nipples and cleanly shaved labia. I think the one in her mouth could have been removed, but I'm not sure, there were piercings around her mouth that may have been connected to the ring gag.

This woman was introduced to me as 'bathroom' and was made to kneel before me and take my cock into her mouth.  I was then given permission to relieve myself.  She drank every drop of my piss and continued to hold my cock in her mouth until she was told to release it a few minutes later.  By this time I was again erect.

Things continued in this vein, with my every comfort being seen to, but my erection was constantly encouraged.  I was almost in agony from the long arousal when I finally asked if I could have some relief.  The response was gratifying in the extreme.  While two very attractive women did a strip tease for me, two others, just as sexy as possible in lacy lingerie, used their hands and mouths to stimulate me to an orgasm that reminded me of the one time I had experimented with cocaine combined with my first drunk and the best wet dream I ever had.  It rated right up there with the big bang. 

After I returned from nirvana, I was informed that I had just passed the second test and that I was relieved from my promise early.  Rather than questioning this development, I simply asked if dinner was to be soon.  Almost as though that were the signal, a van appeared on the dirt road and one of the women said, "Here is dinner."

Dinner was formal, that is to say that all of the women dressed in evening gowns and sat at a long table draped with white tablecloth and adorned with candelabras and flowers.  The gowns and flowers and candles all shared the same color scheme, white, red and black.  I was still naked.  My seat was on a raised platform at one end of the table, ensuring that all of them could see me from my toes to my head.  I was fed as if I was a king and the food was as good as I have ever eaten, even better than lunch.  There was some sort of fowl, served in a wine sauce, and fresh vegetables, some cooked, some raw.  A roast that was most likely pork was succulent and so tender as to require only a spoon.  The dessert was ambrosia, rich in coconut, pineapple, grapes and some excellent white wine mixed with the juice of the fruits. I ate my fill.

Since I had been many hours without sleep, it was nearly inevitable that I would nod off after this regal repast.  When I awoke, it was dark, and one of my attendants was again stroking my manhood, encouraging another erection, and her efforts were rewarded quickly.  She informed me that it was nearly time for the final test, which was to be both the easiest, but the most frightening.  She said for me to just trust them and no harm would come to me no matter what happened.  I nodded my agreement as these witches, if indeed they were, had been completely non-threatening for the entire day and it seemed that what had started as a nightmare would end as a nicely satisfying wet dream.

The gong sounded and I was led to another raised platform. This one had some sort of symbols painted all over it, but I didn't have time to look at them before I was blindfolded again, made to lay on my back, and tied into a spread-eagle.  One of the witches again aroused me as the others began a hypnotic chant.  As my cock rose, my consciousness slowly receded until I was in a sort of waking dream.  I felt a hand untie the blindfold and remove it.  The sight I beheld upon opening my eyes was one that would have struck terror into the devil.

I have heard descriptions of mythical beasts called harpies.  As bad as those descriptions were, harpies were beauty queens compared to this horror. It was about eight feet tall, with a beaked face, breasts that resembled sacks of meal, a head of hair that could be used as prison fencing, and the pubic area had leeches attached feeding and falling off onto me, only to be replaced with more that crawled from it's vagina.  The skin of this apparition was pockmarked and colored and discolored in a shifting pattern that caused nausea.  I fainted when it opened its beak and, without bending down, licked me from crotch to neck.

When I awoke, the crowd was gone.  There was only a single woman present, dressed in a white gown.  Ebony hair topped an ivory complexion.  Her eyes and lips were black as coal, her fingertips red as blood.  The gown was nearly transparent, showing a body that could only be described as perfection.  I realized that my naked body was now hidden by a rich robe, red, and velvet by the feel.  I was reclined on a black leather settee.  She knelt by my side and spoke.

"You have performed as needed.  You passed all tests and faced Tsin-Goort without dying.  You have earned the reward that is given to a mortal only once in a thousand years.  The reward is simple but very powerful.  You are given the ability to see the innermost desires and fears of any person at your will.  The ability is entirely under your control, that is, you are not forced to use it, nor are you restricted as to how or when you use it, or for what purpose.  There are no consequences to you, except ones that you cause by its use.  No one is watching your motives and there will be no judgment of your actions or reasons.  This is given to you for the service you rendered in preserving the earthly incarnation of Tsin-Goort.  That is me.  I am the human aspect of the spirit of this coven, the oldest of all covens.  There will always be one or more of us watching over you, protecting you from harm until you die of old age, many years from now.  Our power is greater than your own, so if you discover someone that you cannot read, you will know that it is one of us.  We know of the humiliations and undeserved punishments you have suffered at the hands of those who are not your equals, and we chose you because of that.  Your suffering gave you the strength to survive last night.  Now you have the power to choose your revenge as you see fit upon the masses who sought to control your spirit for their own mean ends.  I will not tell you to use it wisely, for it is my hope that you use it selfishly, remembering that those who gave it to you have also suffered by the actions of the lowly beings that you now have such power over.  Instead, I will tell you to enjoy it, to take your enjoyment in its use any way that you can.  One other thing about your power, you can, once daily, make any person desire to serve you to the exclusion of all other desires, even his or her life.  Their desire will last as long as you wish.  You will never again lack loving adoration, although the knowledge that you control it may moderate the joy a little.  Still, there may be one who does love you, and this you will know as their innermost desire when you read them.  It is unlikely that we will meet again, although nothing prohibits it, so let me now give you the gift of Tsin-Goort."

And with that she stood, letting her gown fall to the ground.  We made love as do the gods.