Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Blessed relief. One thing about being with the twins is that they know me to the bone. Their knowledge of my body, mind, and needs keeps me calm as they use me for gratification. I associate the pain and humiliation with penance for my sin. It allows me to partake in things I desperately crave and prevents me from falling into an abyss.
“Be a good boy and drop your pants,” Asmodeus demands.
My fingers shake, and my heart thunders as I undo my pants and let them fall to my feet.
“You know what I like about this?” Asmodeus asks as he squeezes the metal cilice around my upper thigh with one hand. “Easy access. It’s like a tap I can drink from any damn time I want.”
A moan escapes my lips as he presses down on the cilice, and his other hand grazes my balls.
“You want me to make you feel good, don’t you, Iblis?”
The lump in my throat prevents me from swallowing. It’s the same emotion I have every time the twins use me. A burning desire to be at their mercy, to taste their cum as it floods my mouth, to be called names as they use me. I want this, crave it, need it, but part of the humiliation for them, the thing they love the most is to hear me beg for my damnation.
The words want to funnel from my mouth like a whimpering prayer, but vocalizing it hurts my relationship with God. The fucked-up notion in my mind says if I don’t voice the sin, I can beg for forgiveness, but saying it out loud will put it in the world. But the twins don’t care. They crave the words.
Asmodeus rubs his thumb over the raised letters on my dick. A present of mercy and depravity. “You remember when I gave this to you?”
I’m in pain tonight. We killed five people.
Abaddon comes in with a bag of body parts; arms, legs, feet, and hands. He’s still high from the rush. Asmodeus is covered in a river of blood. I take them in, memorizing their tall frames, their faces shrouded in black ski masks, and all I want is to be used by them. To wash away all the pain inside my chest with that on my skin.
I fall on the floor, whimpering. I focus on my blood-stained palms.
Asmodeus falls to his knees in front of me. His hands cradle my face as he tells me we’re the product of our master and we do what he commands. Roads is not a monster; he’s hell personified. Since the age of eight, that man has made us witness and commit horrors most people would never experience.
But tonight, it was different.
Tonight was a baptism by the devil, a sacrament of the unholy. Tonight, we didn’t dabble with the dark. We became the embodiment of it.
“Look at me, Iblis.”
My eyes catch Asmodeus’ and silently beg him to ease my suffering. To dim the shrill sounds of their screams.
His large, tattooed hand caresses my head. It’s his way of showing compassion, something he rarely expresses. “You know I love you.”
I’m unsure if that’s true. I know the twins would kill for me—a miracle after what I’ve done to them. I nod, desperate to make his words true.
He wraps his hand around my throat and lifts me from the ground until I’m flush against him. He slams my back into the wall and holds me firm. We don’t speak. We just bask in the rush of his dominance and my submission.
“Take out your cock, slut.”
My fingers tremble like they always do when he orders me. It’s as if I’m under his trance, unable to refuse him anything. Part of me lies and says this is penance for creating him, but another part of me basks in his cruelty, knowing that I would whimper like a dog at his feet and thank him for kicking me.
Asmodeus looks down at my semi-hard cock. “Look at you, getting hard at the idea of being used like a cum rag. You’re pathetic, aren’t you, Iblis? A useless little fuck boy. Maybe I should offer your ass to random men on the street.”
His vile words ignite a ravenous flame in my gut that spreads like wildfire through my entire body. My hand glides up and down my flesh, pumping my cock, bringing it to full mast.
“Please, Mo,” I beg.
Asmodeus smirks as he pulls out one of his blades. This one is smaller than the one he used a few hours ago. Three inches max. “Open your mouth.”
A sense of relief floods me as my lips part. Asmodeus places the tip of the blade on my tongue before pushing it in further. Adrenaline rushes in my veins from the danger and excitement.
“Such a good little whore, Iblis. I bet if I shoved this knife in your tight ass, you’d squeal like a pig and love every moment.”