I didn’t have a clue what they meant when they told me I needed to attend an atonement ceremony. Nevertheless, I’ve learned to never ask questions or try to imagine the greater purpose of the many mystical rituals in this place. It’s best simply to expect the unexpected and fully embrace the intensity of the moment when it arrives.
There was something a little scary about the concept of atonement, though. It implies sin and the need for punishment by the time I’d reached the ceremonial space, I’d worked myself up into a state of pure terror! Had I done something wrong in the eyes of The Order?
The room caught me off guard. I was expecting an airy, light space, like the one where I was anointed. But this place was oppressive and dark; so dark, in fact, that I couldn’t tell how large it was. A number of candles in ornate holders flickered and filled the room with ghostly shadows.
Three stern masters sat in the room, waiting. They barely acknowledged me as I walked in, which was unnerving because I knew two of them fairly well. Master Kamp had interviewed me when I first arrived here, and Master St. Michael anointed me about a month ago. I was excited to see them both. My encounters with them had been utterly mind-blowing in an almost profound way.
The person in the room whom I’d not yet met was Grandmaster Legrand. And, lemme tell you, his presence sent shivers down my spine. I guess you could say that Legrand is a legend within The Order; I’d only ever seen him from a distance, but it’s impossible not to be drawn-in and hypnotized by him. He exudes power, wisdom and authority and he’s one of the tallest men I’ve ever seen.
The Masters sat on antique, velvet upholstered chairs. I scanned their faces for hints. I blushed as I looked into Master St. Michael’s eyes, remembering what we’d done together. It was hard to know whether any of this had been discussed between the Masters. Was it a secret that I was expected to keep? Was my atonement related to what I’d done with those men?
There was a long bench in front of the Masters which was covered in a black satin sheet. I could make out the shape of something which resembled bottles underneath the fabric. Master Kamp stood and slowly removed the cloth. He revealed a wooden bench with what looked like a row of large, shiny, black chess pawns attached to it.
Kamp then stood behind me and started to touch me; he undid my tie and then, one by one, the buttons on my shirt. He knew the effect he had on me. He’d driven me utterly wild during my interview and was obviously hell-bent on getting me back into a similar state of sexual openness. Grandmaster Legrand watched intently, but I could not discern from his expression what he was thinking.
Kamp unbuckled my belt. He unzipped my pants and ran his palm over the tip of my dick until I was harder than I’ve ever been in my life. I closed my eyes and allowed the waves of pleasure to surge and fizzle through my body like beautiful bolts of electricity, forgetting, for a moment, where I was and who was looking on.
My trance broke when Legrand gave me permission to approach. My heart leapt into my mouth as I walked towards him. He reached out and touched me with his long fingers, and teased my dick from the safety of my garments.
I could feel Legrand’s mouth running over my dick. His hands drifted tenderly up and down my back. Suddenly, I became aware that St. Michael was also touching me. I rapidly lost track of who was touching me, and where. All I knew was that it felt incredible to be lost in their hands. I didn’t want it to stop.
I was pulled out of my reverie by the sight of Master Kamp rubbing oil on the pegs on the bench. At that moment I realized, with some degree of horror, that I was going to be forced to sit down on them. And sure enough, seconds later, I was led across to one end of the bench while Kamp used his fingers to gently push oil into my hole.
Add Comment