Сборники Художественной, Технической, Справочной, Английской, Нормативной, Исторической, и др. литературы.

Vol I.  No. 3       "The Renegade"

  The Sacred Order of

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Chapter 1

I had been the vice-president of the firm for just under a month,
and already I had an office that could pass for a country club with
bar and lounge.  The bar was completely stocked with plush leather
chairs, game heads on the wall -- hell, the bathroom was bigger
than most people's garages.

 "Well I'll return your legal briefs before the next meeting.", I
said to the cute young secretary.  She snapped her braw strings
back into place as she left the waterbed and pulled her skirt
up over her black pumps, naked bush and full hips.  I could hear
her heels clicking on the tiles as I snorted deeply into her little
silk briefs.

She probably thought she was working her way up the ladder like
this.  But if there ever was a glass ceiling, I was it.  Don't
get me wrong.  I have no problem with women in high positions,
just so long as they're qualified.  And that little bimbo woudln't
even of been hired if I hadn't seen her ummm. . . sizeable
attributes in the company unemployment office.

Someone might start asking questions if she keeps taking
an hour to deliver my mail with a cup of coffee. . . .  Ah
well.  Let them talk.  I wasn't married.  Just had Jenny.
And she was hardly in any position to be a factor.

The rocks in my glass made a tinkling sound as I rolled
my eyes towards the glass ceiling above and gulped down
the stuff.  It was just mineral water.  But the way it mixed
with that slut's cum in my mouth added a nice edge.

The mail package the girl had brought with her stayed on
my desk along with a cooling cup of coffee the whole day.
I always read my personal mail after work -- and today would
be no exception.


Chapter 2

Here I was kicked back in my lounge chair at my desk.  Before
a long row of tinted glass windows overlooking the small town
below.  If one looked a bit further to the southeast he would
see the Seattle skyline in the distance, across the big
blue lake with its hard, long floating bridges.  This little
town was getting a bit large for my taste. . .  and its proximity
to that major metropolitan area did not improve the chances of
my staying there long.  Wouldn't want to get too bogged down
in one place. . .

Well, what was there to do.  Ah.  Reports.  I had to read
through -- or atleast look like I was reading - several
stacks of reports each day.  Mostly I'd let a few underlings
do the grunt work and when they were all done I'd just sign
Ron Peterson's name to the product and get patted on the back
at the executive meetings.

 Cold cup of coffe on my desk.  Mail.  Hmm.  Lets see what this
 first stack of reports is all about. . .

"2000 dollars worth of xerox paper. .  Item #5587-3,
 one laser printer."   Um hm.

"Item #8871-2210002, shipment of magnetic tape reels.. .
 Item #8872-2210003, shipment of large magnetic reels, see
 note page 553 and cross-reference in inventory volume 8, page

 Ah yes. . . .  BORING.  Why did I have to be so good at faking
 like an accountant and those forged letters of introduction
 probably went a bit far. . .  But it did seem a good touch
 naming myself "Manager Weekly's Man of the Month, July 1989."
 Hell -- was no such magazine.    Of course I knew enough to
 fill the role as an administrator.  But ask me to balance
 a ledger properly and who know's what columns I'd put things
 in.   Was a lucky break when the fools at the company placed
 an ad in the paper for an executive officer.

 One of the dozen or so lights beneath the tinted glass of my
desk illuminated briefly as the speaker clicked on.

"Say Ron, are you comming to the executive retreat?"

The president of the company -- like everyone else in this town --
thought of me as mild mannerd, money-wise Ron Peterson.  I was in a
way.  I drove Ron's car, slept with his girl, ate his food, read
his mail.  I even paid his taxes on occasion.  But Ron was just a
persona I filled when in this great playground some call "life."
He was the anonymous nobody the cops would be looking for if I
ever got in a pinch.  As he has no parents, chilhood friends,
hometown or recorded dental records, fingerprints; I could do almost
anything.  If I was smart about it.  And I am always smart about it.

"Yo!  Ron -- you listening to me?"

"Uh.  Yeah sure.  I'll be there.  But I won't be on the
 company jet."

"No?  How are you getting out there then?  Walking?", he laughed.

"I'll drive.  I need more fresh air then the rest of you."

There was something about being trapped in an airplane and landing
at some airport not knowing if the police would be there waiting
to hand-cuff me, that I didn't like.  But mainly I like to drive,
feel the wind in my hair as my ragtop mustang rockets down the

"Well its all set then!", the prez exclaimed over the intercom.
"See you in Las Vegas day after tomorrow."

"Yeah.  Yeah Sure. . .", I managed.  That guy was a real pain
sometimes.  Being an executive had its perks.  Heh did it
ever. . .  But going to the company "meetings" in Miami, Japan,
Russia, Hawaii or Brazil every week could take alot out of
a guy.  Its a wonder the company ever got anything done considering
how much time the chief execs spent partying or planning the same.

But this did remind me to call Jenny on my cellphone.  It was one
of those little flip one's.  080 3351.  I was calling to let her
know not to cook dinner or wait up for me.  I wondered absent mindedly
if they made working cellular replicas of the old Star Trek communicators
as I waited for someone to answer.

 "Yeah.  Jen, babe.  I'm going on a company trip. . . .  Yeah
  won't be back for a few days. . . .  Right.  I'm stopping by
  at that french place for something to eat then its off for. . .
  Um hm.  . . .  Yes. . . .  Buy your own damn beer.   You and
  your beers.  What is it with the beer already."

*click*  It was nearly impossible for me to control her over
the phone.  Its not too much harder than face to face control
but I just hadn't mastered it yet.  Besides that was a level 12
skill.  And by now she knew better than to disobey my wishes.

As I left the massive company tower that night I passed George, the
head night watcman.  He was sitting at the massive lobby console
intent on watching the board before him.  Usually he would of happily
saluted me and we'd exchange some joke or other.  So naturally I
stopped my whistling of "Somewhere Under the Rainbow", as I detected
something out of the ordinary.

"What are you doing?", I asked in a stern tone.   The sweat on
his brow and the slight jacking motion of his arm just didn't
seem quite professional -- If you know what I mean.

"Oh .. umm. Oh.  Mr. Peterson!"

What a pathetic show he was making.

"What are you doing there man!?", I demanded as I circled around
behind him to get a better view.  The little stinker was watching
a video of me screwing that bimbo mailroom clerk.  Like I said,
I didn't care if people thought I might be screwing her.  But a
video tape is serious business.  That sort of thing could get my
face on T.V. in the worse way.  And as personal policy goes, keeping
out of the mass media is damn near holy writ.

"Planning on using this against me?", I asked calmly as I observed
the crystal vase on a nearby table.  It would probably be strong
enough to shatter his skull. . .  If he gave the wrong answer.

"No.  No. . .", he struggled for words as he zipped up his
pants and wiped the sweat from his brow.  His fat face was
turning a deep red as he stared blankly at the screen.  It now
had the bimbo frozen in pleasure and pain as I had been porking
her on the edge of the bed.  Her ankles were on my neck. .
and why was I wearing her earings.  Heh.  Funny what one doesn't
notice during the act.


"I don't know what to say sir."   He was at a loss for words.

"Tell ya what, George.  You keep your mouth shut and I'll let
 you fuck her everyday."

This was a good offer for him, but it meant I'd have to speed up my
mind control schedule with the little winch.  And I wouldn't see as
much of her myself.  It be a cold day in hell (or an unavoidable
ritual) before I'd fuck her after George.  The fat slob.

A smile slowly began to form on his lips.

"Oh.  And George, give me the tape."

He nodded silently.  Good.  I walked outside to my parked car
once more in a cheerful mode -- whistling.


Chapter 3

 The clean white tiles of the bathroom floor had a dull shine to them.
Probbaly had been waxed a couple of days ago.  I looked at my knees
and the pants bunched about lower down.  I was sitting on a toilet
in La Femme Chaud.  It was a good place to eat -- not spectacular
but very dependable.  There was no newspaper on hand so I'd brought
the mail along with me.  A bill from the light company: Can wait.
A Blood Drinker's Anonymous magazine:  Honestly I don't know how I got
onto their mailing list.   Some letters addressed to "Occupant." :
Who is that guy anyhow?  I mean what a hell if someone's name really
were "Occupant" or "Current Resident."  And finally I came to the
small yellow envelope with no return address.

There was something hard in it.  I paused in disgust as someone in a
nearby stall grunted loudly with this loud splashing sound of something
falling into his bucket.  Eventually I ripped open the flimsy yellow paper
and found a postcard within.  It had the picture of a snow covered
something or other.  One distinctive window protruded from the
enormous covering of whiteness.  It was obviously the home temple.
But of course nobody could know that unless they had been there.

The card had come from home.  I held my breath.  What if the letter
had been traced?  As I read the postmarks I realised it had been
forwarded through one of the safe mail houses in taiwan before reaching

Would this be a letter from the Master?  Or one of them anyways?
Questions raced through my mind as I turned the card over and
began to read it.  "Master Nim," -- Why did she always have to
start them that way.  What a waste of time.  Didn't she know I
couldn't send mail back to her?

"Wait.  I know you must be tired of my attempts to contact you..
but this is really important.  Kaljel your sworn enemey has
graduated and is comming for you."

That maggot?  He couldn't make a cow fart.  What did I have to fear
from him?  HA HA.  The fool.

". . .  He has taken the polsten.  I know it is unbelivable.  The
head masters deny it, but I have been to the sacred room and seen the
holy stand.  It is empty."

I stared at the words in blank disbelief for sometime as the gravity
of the situation sunk in.  "The p o l s t e n", I said to myself
over and over.  How could that be?  Didn't they guard it!?  Yes.  Yes.
Sure they did.  I had to get control of myself.  Had to concentrate.
No fear.  No fear.

What was this polsten, you ask?  It's just the physical container
for all the focused energy of every member of the Order.  Thats all.
Years before when I first joined the Order part of the iniation was
to watch a failing pupil get punished with the polstren.  I remember
clearly how master waved the staff over the young girls head.  She
didn't seem too harmed by the experience.  And I suppose that was due
to her extensive training at the temple in methods of self-control.
But after a few minutes just sitting in chairs gave her far too much
pleasure.  She would walk with legs wide apart and foam on her mouth.
Sometimes she'd just fall to the ground consumed in spontaneous orgasims.

Heh.  We had some fun times with her. . .  when she was awake.

The Polsten in the hands of Kaljel.

What deeds would he do with it?  Or more importantly what deeds
would he do to me with it. . .

I would have to use my vision.  It always leaves me drained after
a good session so I would need to be at home.  The french man
who cleans up the bathroom was yelling something at me in thick
french.  Something to the effect of my having been born by a fat
fish smelling cow.  Ah well let him think me an ignorant american.
I was above settling petty disputes and besides it wasn't my
fault the toilet was overflowing.  What sort of idiot would build
a bathroom two feet above the main floor of his resteraunt anyhow?

Chapter 4

The ride home was quick and uneventful.  Jenny smelled of cheap
beer and perhaps even a cigar or two as she greeted me in the
doorway.  She had the perfect body of a goddess.  Her naturally
tan skinned was to die for.  Her large firm breast were to kill
for.  She was wearing a pull-over sweater and a small mini.

"Whats up... Doc?", she said in her ever-smashed Marlyin Monroe voice.

That voice.  What was it about her come-hither-and-take-me-all-night
sound that turned me on.  Oh that.

 She was small too, and I almost ignored her as she jokingly
held her arm in my way.  I could pick her up in one arm and...
well my my.  My hand was already feeling about her subtle waist
and firm well exercised ass.  There'd be time enough for that
later on I thought, as I quickly crossed the brick tiled floor.

The house was modest -- OK luxurious -- but small.
There was a pool, three car garage... 8 bedrooms, or was it ten?
I forget.  Anyhow it was big enough for a good party with plenty of
individual guest rooms.  It even had a small movie theater.  It
was all in Jenny's name.  I kept her on a short leash.  She
got what she wanted -- well nearly.  And I got what I wanted:
her body, mind, soul and money.  Besides it wouldn't due to leave
too much of a paper trail about myself.  1st rule of the order;
about being cautious and all.

My laboratory was rather modest.  It was in part of the wine cellar.
I had half of it boarded up with a false wall.  Even the public
blueprints to the house don't show the true extant of that cellar.
At first glance it may appear modest.  Perhaps even minimalist.
There's a thin simple glass desk.  A few tall candles and the
computer.  This was setup as you might expect, if you're into such
stuff.  There was even a hidden cabinet with a couple of hundred
computer disk.  And not an MS DOS based application in the bunch.

Anyow I had this awesome computer and all I used it for most
of the time was meditation.  The monitor I had custom built.
Its 20 inches of perfectly round faced glass were ideal for
radiating uniform color patterns.  The ideal in meditation
focus points.

I loaded up my visions program.  Just a bunch of black and white
patterns with some green lines mixed in.  It wouldn't do anything
for you to look at it.  Or even to concentrate on it.  It only
works for one who has learned his skills with it.  Infact I don't
know any Order member who uses the exact same meditation methods...
besides the sacred chant of rituals -- naturally.

As the day turned to night and colors filled the room, I began to
dose off into that realm between all others.  I was not going to
sleep but that place where we go when we watch others.  You know,
you've probbaly been there youself perhaps in a childhood dream.
The place where we can see almost anything.  But the untrained mind
dismisses most of it as wild imagintation.  But truthfully.. there
is a place for everything somewhere -- and a dream of anything is
of something real ... somewhere.

The images of rushing landscapes and fast moving celestial patterns
began to grow as realities meshed.  All became dark then there was
the sound of tinkling bells.  Tinkling bells.. bells... tinkling...


Chapter 5

Nearby, in Seattle, Washington. . .

"Sir.  If you'd like to look at the leather pants we have several.."

The cute little saleslady was unable to finish her sentence as the
dark man she had been addressing pointed a gnarled and twisted bronze
staff in her general direction.  She collapsed unto her knees, head down.
Violent convulsions rocked her as she panted in pleasure and agony.
To her it felt as tho she were being filled as never a man could fill her.
No.  It felt like someone was stuffing both fist into her wet burning cunt
and at the same time trying to bite her nipples off.

Shoppers with their little kids and bags of clothing began to gather
about the odd sight.  A large - almost beastly - man wearing nothing
but tight leather pants adjusting his bowtie in a mirror while this
beautiful blonde flopped on the floor like a sack of jello.

She was sweating and wheezing for air in the remains of her stockings
befoe she was able to speak.

"Please... " . . . more coughs ... " what are you doing to meeeooooooW!?"

The man had touched her with his staff again.

Rather lightly actually.

She was still and quiet.  After a moment large crimson stains
began to form on her blouse about where her nipples would have

"Oh my God!" yelled a man.  Some women began to cry and yell at the
strange man to go away.  The slow deliberate way he raised his
eyes towards them and smiled had them moving back from the scene.

A few brave men - you know the kind that happen to be in every crowd -
began to advance.  Guess they thought it was their civic duty or something.

"Come on!  Get away from her.", One of the smaller men said.

It was almost comical the way he clutched at his crotch and screamed
silently in pain.  He panted something about getting his pants off.
A nearby woman sank to her knees saying:  "I'm a doctor..."
She began to pull down his pants without even unbuttoning them or anything.
There he was standing naked in a clothing store with his pants about his
ankles.   She looked quite professional as she began to stare at what
was before her face with gaping and surprised mouth.

The woman gasped in shock as she saw his rock hard cock.  Suddenly he
started spraying a stream of jism right down her warm throat.
She swallowed instinctevly then began to blush.  A few wet loads even
fell onto the more distant and wounded saleswoman.

Then the man started spinning about while prancing in agony.  He came
and came all over fur coats, leather jackets, strangers, the floor...
It spun upwards to meet him as he collapsed on his back.  A fountain
of cum shot upwards in a continuous stream of milky wax.  The man must
have wondered to himself if it was such a bad way to die.

Slowly the height of the milk began to lessen as the man's screams subsided.
One could have literally seen his balls strink into nothingness.  Finally
blood and guts bubbled forth and the man was dead.

The little store was soon emptied as a small stampede made its way over
coat racks and displays.  Some didn't even stop to open the doors as
they fled but simply crashed through the large display windows.

A sinister and gleeful laughter rocked the rafters as the dark man
surveyed the destruction.

"Ha! HA!. . . .  HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!  HAAAA!"

"There shall be poooleasure in my kingdom!"

He doubled over holding his gut as more laughter shook him.


"I'm comming for you Nim!  HA HA HA HA HA HA."

My vision was broken then as I awoke from the meditation in
a cold sweat.  This didn't look good.  No.  Not good at all.


Chapter 6

I knew I had but one chance.  The authority transfer ritual.
It was a long shot and not something I had planned on attempting
so early in my masterhood.  But really, there was no other choice.

All day long I slaved over a bowl of potion.  It took just
the right mixture of the three sacred ingrediants to even
began the ritual I had in mind;  6 ounces of powdered smegma,
1 of urine and 4 of honey.  I had several jars of all of these
in the fridge.  All except the honey. That we kept in the
bedroom toybox.

It takes a few minutes to properly grind the smegma into
chunky powder.  Thats the easy part.  The urine must be
boiled and slowly combined with the honey.  Then comes
the long part.  Blending the entire mixture by hand with
a spoon or fork until it forms an even but thick, cool
gooy substance.

It was only be sheer determination that I didn't taste the
stuff.  It is the food of the gods.  And one should not
make it for anything less than sacred purposes.

As I held the glass jar up with the thick wonderful magic
inside of it, I pondered exactly how I was going to trick
Kaljel into my trap.


Chapter 7

I was preparing to return to the company office, for a bit of
late night overtime -- or so I let Jenny think.  Blue suit,
striped shirt and flamingo tie.  Just like usual.  Ron Peterson
wasn't the best dresser, but that was all part of the facade.

Jenny didn't complain when I told her to smear some strawberry
jelly on her lips and to remove all of her clothing except
the white boxer shorts and short white socks I gave her.

This would work perfect.  I told her to walk around the house
that way all day.  As I adjusted my tie in preperation to leave
for the office, she opened her mouth to ask me something or other.
It recieved an open handed slap that almost knocked her to the ground.
She started to cry but then thought better of it and gasped in
involuntary spasms of pain and shock.

I said, "No matter what happens, you just better remember you are
        my woman."

She didn't see the smile on my face as I turned to leave.  I
almost patted myself on the back for the realistic stern look
I'd given her.

That damn garage door was stuck again.  When I pressed the remote
button it just lit up with sparks and made a buzz sound.  Would
have to get a repair man out to see about that sometime.

When I finally got the grage doors open, I drove the car out and
down the short lane from the house like I would have any other day.
But as I rounded the corner out of view from the house I put
her into park and climbed out.

It was a minute or two before I made my way to the backyard,
past the pool and back into the house.

The fun was just starting.


Chapter 8

The front doors of the small mansion exploded into millions
of splinters as a flash of blue light filled the entrance way.
The roar of poping wood and falling debris subsided quickly
to make way for the intruder.

"NIM.  I have come.  Here me roar!"

The house shook as though it had been hit by a tornado or earth quake as
the lion-like man screamed his lungs out.

Jeez. This guy had been reading too many comic books or something.
He was way more built than I recall him being at the temple.
Why had he continued to wear those silly leather pants and
bowtie -- with nothing else?   He certainly wasn't trying to
keep a low profile.  I bet half the police force was on his
trail, and he had lead them straight to me.  Yes.  We wouldn't
be staying in this town too much longer.  I knew that for
certain then.

Kaljel seemed only mildly surprised not to find his prey cowering
before him.  The sound of his staff striking and breaking the floor
tiles as he walked with it into the house would have gave most
men heart attacks.   *PROW!* tap, tap  . . .  *PROW!* tap, tap
Then silence.

"And what do we have here?", he asked with cheery glee, as he found
a small form hiding under a table not too far from the main doors.

 "Stand!", he bellowed.

Jenny, quite shaken could not seem to make her legs obey her.
She started trying to rise on her hands and knees but didn't
get far before he hoisted her roughly to her feet.

He had not seen a finer looking woman.  But unlike most men,
he was not a slave to his more basic instincts.  If it had
not been for one minor detail he would have either torn her
juglar vein right out of her neck or raped her right then and
there.   But I knew a little something of his ego.  Predictible
as ever.  Of course the added touch of her not wearing much
couldn't have hurt much.

"You're Nim's woman, aren't you?", he asked in a soft deceiving
tone.  Jenny being the typical fool accepted his voice as apologetic
and responded.

"Nim? Who is Nim?"

She cowarded in fear of receiving some blows for her iggnorance.
But the man did not wish to damage her. Yet.

"Does he look anything like this.", he asked while projecting
a color-slide like image of my face upon a nearby brick wall.
It was a picture of me when I was much younger.  In monk's habit
with shaven head.  I almost laughed at the sight of it, but thought
better of that and remained hidden.

"Thats Ron.  I mean master.  I mean. . ."

Jenny was confused now.  She wasn't sure if she'd said too much
or not enough.  It didn't matter in my mind.  She would be dead
by the end of the day.  If not via the ritual than by means
of Kaljel's hands.

Kaljel nodded knowingly as he began to drag her limp form towards
the stairs.

"Where is your bed woman?  And his!?"

She wasn too freightned to do much but whimper and mubble something
about "Please" , "Please."

Kaljel stopped and pressed both of his hands over her face.  The way
he closed his eyes as he began to rake his open palms down her
face made me think he was going to snap her neck.  But no.  He
was smoothing her tears away.  He brought his hands to his mouth
and tasted her there.  "So sweet.  So sweet.", he said in a low
yearning voice.   He had tasted the strawberries.

As they rounded the curved stairs up out of view I started breathing
again.  It was laughable how Kaljel could fall for the old invisibility
thing.  That was my master thesis back at the temple and quite a few
of the undergrads should've known about it.  Hell, I could see someone
like Jenny not perceving a strange motionless form when they have so
much else on their mind.  But Kaljel?  Really.  Now I was becomming
just a little bit annoyed with this twit.  I was going to have to waste
my most valuable slave because of his untimely comming.  But he would
pay.  Pay dearly.

I was still working the kinks out of my joints and stripping off the
cheap suit and tie as I quitely climbed the stairs towards the master
bedroom.  I could hear Kaljel's voice,

"I'm going to have Nim's woman in his own bed.  Heh heh heh"

Then he startd howling like a wolf or something.

I moved into the room by just moving my heels and toes.  I
just watched, casually with hands on my hips, as Kaljel
held both of Jenny's wrist together with one enormous hand and
started spreading her legs open beneath him.

She saw me and started crying out, "Save me ma-"  *bonk*
Kaljel head butted her and squeazed her wrist harder.  He
was awfuly sure of himself, to assume that I wasn't infact
behind him.

Kaljel got a pill from one of his pockets and held her nose as
he broke it open over her open mouth.  A thick liquid dripped onto
her tounge.   She fought wih all her might but soon had to breathe
and gulped down whatever the stuff was.

In a minute she was docile and almost loving beneath the beast.
He had taking the time to remove his pants and lay them beside the

I sat across the room on the sofa there, unnoticed.  It would
be quite a show.  But especially the ending.  I quietly patted
the magic potion beside me as the festivites began.

There was a dry rubbing sound as Kaljel thrust his entire 10
inches of meat into her small cunt.  She screamed in blood
curdling agony as she felt the quicksilver poker reach her
womb.  Her eyes were glazed and vauge as Kaljel tried to get
better penetration.  He stood on his knees and pulled her
wrist down behind her back to meet her ankles where he held them
together in dual pairs as he worked up a good gooy wetness between
them and fucked on.

"Ah good... Oh. .. Damn you're so tight!",
 he exclaimed between gasp for air as he worked his hips and
 thighs into the burning little box.

Jenny would just moan in pain between thrust as he tried to
split her cunt in two.  For my part my cock was feeling fuller
as it grew, hoping to take part in the scene before it.

When Kaljel finally came he pulled out and made a wet cork-popping
sound as his thick rubber-noodle cum covered her neck and

"Whats the biggest thing you've ever had in you?", he asked
curious to enjoy the pony he'd rounded up and humiliate
her master as much as possible.

"Oh. . .  a fist", she managed to mumble between gasp for
air and painful moans.

He swung his body about on the bed until his head was at the
base and hers still towards the head.  Then he grabbed her ankles
and started pulling her spread legs towards him as he forced his big
toe into her cunt.

"AHHEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOO!" , she managed to cry out before breaking
down into screams and head trashing attempts at getting away from
the pressure growing between her legs.  It took him awhile but
eventually he managed to get his whole foot inside of her.

"This adds a whole new meaning to the term "footwear", don't
 it bitch!?"

She couldn't hear him.  She was either blacked out or
too numb to feel or do anything.

I was getting impatient now.  All he had to do was. . .
Had to wait for the right momment. . .  come on.

He turned her over and was working on fucking her up the ass
when I finally saw my oppurtunity.  She had tried to drag
herself over the edge of the bed, and while throwing her
back, she ended up on top of him, face up.  He was playing with
her tits in one hand while screwing his cock up her ass when I
grasped my own cock in hand.  It was thicker than ever before,
long, hard and hot.  I started milking it in time to the moans on
the bed as I waited for my turn.  Had to have a nice cock aching
bonner before starting the ritual. . .

"Got your hands full, eh Kaljel?", I asked in a friendly joking
tone as I squated down over the pair.  The wild look in his
eyes grew as he reached towards where he had left his staff.
I was ontop of Jenny now, who was atop Kaljel, getting the ass
fucking of her life.  I guided my cock into her gaping pink pusy
as I brought the jar of potion over her mouth.

Kaljel began to realise what I was up to and started to struggle,
but he was on his back, without any leverage and there was about
300 pounds of weight ontop of him.  "Drink it!", I screamed at
the stupid bitch.  Could she not comprehend?  This was but one
step in a very important ritual.

I started the most sacred chant,

"Let our within be their without....",

"No! No!", Kaljel screamed in a frenzy of horror and fear.

"Let our within be their without....",

I'd have to rely on chance then.  Would just have to hope she had some of
the stuff in her belly, as I . . .  ARRRRGH!

Kaljel cried one last time,  "No! N-"

"Let our within be their without....",

I rose up a little, my cock still within her and brought the point
of the polstren staff, that magnificent tool of the Order, down
upon Jenny's chest with all my might.  There was a hollow thumping
sound as it drove down through her flesh and into Kaljel's
helpless body.  Potion was running down from her mouth all over
him and I realised that it probably didn't matter if she had
consumed some or not.

"Let our within be their without....",

I held onto the staff with both hands as I thrusted into Jenny's
lifeless body.  The potion in her gaping mouth rose and fell
as I slid my meat in and out of her.  The feeling of pleasure and
control were unimaginable.   They were not natural feelings of
course, and happily so.  Because otherwise every prude in every
town would be a master.

"Let our within be their without....",

Kaljel managed to gurgle, "I'm sorry. . . master", as blood and
potion ran from his nose.  I twisted the staf about a few times,
this way and that just to be sure there'd be no more interruptions.

"Let our within be their without....",

The staff began to glow a light golden hue as Jenny's body did a little
death jig.  I kept on fucking as my body began to feel warmer and warmer.
And finally as I came in long hot ribons her eye's popped open, given me
a mild shock.  Perhaps a nerve got rubbed the wrong way somewhere in
her cunt.  She was dead, afterall.


Chapter 9

After taking a shower and putting on some new duds, I doused the bed
with gasoline.  Being careful to get it nice and damp.  Then I went
out into the hallway, closed the door.  It wasn't too much trouble to
turn the gas furnace up to maximum and blow out the pilot light.

Lastly, I placed a call to the company president.

"Hello?", the voice on the other end asked impatiently.

"This is Ron. . .", I said in a tense angry voice.

"I'm going to kill myself if you don't send George over here right now!"

"George?  George who?  You don't mean that fat bastard that works in
 security?", he laughed uneasily.

"Send him now.  Or I swear I'll kill myself!", I screamed.

I walked a few blocks away to where my mustang was and climbed in.
It had been dark now and the whole interior was quite fridgid.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity the fat slob drove up
in his rent-a-cop patrol car.  He had brought several buddies too.
Did I ask him to bring freinds?  Jeeez.  No matter.  Let someone
else sort out who should've been there, I thought as I pressed
the button on the garage door remote.

After a short pause the whole house seemed to explode into
trillions of tiny match sticks.  An instant later a great
fireball was rising above the neighborhood.  The reflection
of the firestorm in the still standing pool water was almost
as good as the main show.

I'd gotten out with the staff, the clothes on my back and
. . .   Ah yes.  I didn't forget the bronze gauntlets.
Little wrist guard with pictures of the celestial stairs
engraved.  And how many levels did this make. . . .

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