1. Lucifer's Bow 1


    Date: 8/15/2015, Categories: Taboo, Author: adagio_sabadicus, Rating: 18, Source: LushStories

    When she was away for short spells, or going to the mainland shopping, I would don her bra and panties, making sure I caught my image in her mirror. I didn't really understand why, but I was even holding my cigarettes like women in the movies. It didn't bother me. One day, I experimented by painting my finger nails, but quickly removed the polish before Kat spotted them. I wondered if that had anything to do with my smallish penis. I surely didn't feel light in my loafers, although the guys that were in my gym class at school, sported larger appendages. In my fantasies, I thought that Kat was involved in some sort of a cult thing. Sometimes people were coming in and out of the house. The murmurings from down below, flowing up through the registers and vents, put my imagination into overdrive. Kat had repeatedly warned me about staying away from the basement, under the pretense that the steps had rotted. However, I knew that there were ten stairs to the cellar, often counting the squeaks with each footfall. People would always meet downstairs in the basement, always around midnight. I never could hear anything, but knew something was going on. I never asked her about it, but just became more curious as time went by. One night, I thought I heard chanting. Knowing it wasn't the Vienna Boy's Choir, I wanted to see what was happening, but knew that she’d be upset if I went exploring. My curiosity was certainly piqued. It was after midnight, and thunder was clapping outside. I ...
    tiptoed down, putting on the best quiet that I had. Counting to ten, and holding my breath, I stood in the shadows, placing my palm over my mouth before I exhaled. I was at the foot of the stairs and could only get a partial view of the main room. The carpet was black, with a pentagram made of candles resembling the male genitalia. There was an altar that stood on caster wheels. They sure weren't caterwauling, that's for sure. What kind of church was this? Movement made me scamper back up to my room, where I lowered my pajama pants and felt my penis rising. My testicles were drawn up tight, and a white, sticky goo was seeping from my tip. I felt the heat in my face, flush, as if embarrassed, remembering: 'Gray, I forbid you masturbating before the time.' Oh, how I wanted to touch myself, but I had heard people say something about going to Hell if one did. Before going to sleep, I felt a wetness on my sheet, and knew that later, Kat would inquire about the stains of my sins. The next day, out of curiosity, I was looking for any clues that might explain what I had heard the previous evening. While she was shopping, I found a wimple (a garment worn on the head of a nun), and some strange books with symbols on pages written in Latin. There was also a notepad, and I flipped through lines of several names. The last names were blacked-out, and folded between several pages there was a questionnaire, which I opened. 'How did you find out about us?' 'What do you think you know about us?' ...
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