The Great Wrong

Written by Gregory Hanes

Concept Provided by Robert Elephante Jr.

Far into the heart of rural Pennsylvania, our hero, the Masked Twink, lurks through the shadows just outside of a rich stately old manor. After positioning himself behind a large bush, MT, the Masked Twink, looks down at the watch on his wrist and whispers, 

"Hey! Are you dick-bags there?! Come in!"

A voice emits from the watch and replies, 

"Yes, Agent 27! We read you loud and clear. What is your position?" 

In a cheeky attempt to be funny, the Twink answers, 

"Doggy-style! Me on top. Going hard and strong all night long."

"Stay focused, 27!" the voice from the watch snaps. "It is crucial that you accomplish your mission! We've received numerous reports of strange disappearances linked to a mysterious cult known as The Order of the Dark Eye. One of the key members, Robert Eldrick, is also one of the pillars of the local community." 

"Robert Eldrick? The eccentric philanthropist?" MT inquires.

"The very same. It is our suspicion that his generous demeanor is merely a ruse to hide his more sinister affiliations, as such we need you to investigate the grounds of his manor. Our reports lead us to believe the cult meets at this mansion once every New Moon. If our intel is correct, then they should all be in there tonight."

"And just what the fuck do you what me to do?" MT asks with a contemptuous glare. 

"Get in, collect all necessary data, and get out!" the voice from the watch answers.

"How come you honky-motherfuckers keep sending my black ass to do this kind of shit?!" MT asks with a snidely tone.

"Well, to start with, you still owe us for getting those statutory rape charges dropped!" the voice from the watch answers. 

"He said he was 18!" the Twink snaps.

"Just Get Going!!" the voice from the watch angrily barks.

Although still disgruntled by his questionable mission, the Masked Twink wastes no time in jumping the wrought-iron fence surrounding the estate and darts for the bushes just outside the house. There is a downstairs window a few feet away from his hiding spot. MT slowly creeps over to it trying his best not to make a sound. He tip-toes as gracefully as an alley cat. The Masked Twink pries the window open with a small crowbar and climbs through into a darkened parlor room. There are no lights on in any of the adjacent rooms. It appears as though no one is home...that or everybody is asleep.

The Masked Twink stalks the halls of the manor until he finds a dimly-lit room upstairs with the door sitting slightly ajar. MT creeps quietly closer and peers inside through the crack. Within the room he sees a host of hooded figures all standing around an altar chanting.

With a boyish smirk on his face MT whispers to himself, 

"Looks like I've just hit the jackpot." 

However what the masked boy doesn't see is the shadowy figure slowly creeping up behind him with a candelabra in hand. The stranger strikes the masked boy in the back of the head sending the young sleuth falling to the floor unconscious.

MT awakes later to find himself unable to see or move. Everything is pitch-black. He cannot even speak. 

"Where...what the fuck?! Where am I?! What's going on?!" he thinks to himself.

Suddenly the black hood that had been placed over his head is pulled off and the Masked Twink is able to see that he has been laid out upon an altar covered with candles. There are men in black robes all around him. The one standing in front of the altar appears to be the leader. He is the one who removed the black hood from MT's face.

MT is fully conscious, but regardless of how much he tries he cannot move. He cannot even squirm. His mind races furiously, but he can do nothing as the hooded man begins feeling him up; caressing his lean young body with his thick hairy hands. The Masked Twink is almost completely naked except for his mask and a simple white jockstrap. 

"Why the fuck can't I move?! Get your fuckin' hands off me you creepy bastard!" MT screams in his head, but since he can't move his lips his cries are heard only by him.

The hooded man leans in and begins to gently molest the Masked Twink's face; smelling his breath, licking his cheeks, kissing his neck, and playfully biting at his sweet tender lips. 

"NO! Please Stop!" MT screams in his head, unable to react. 

Only his eyes convey his terror and disgust as this arcane molestation continues. The hooded man slowly works his way down caressing, kissing, and licking the Masked Twink's pecs and abs. The man says not a word, nor does any of his congregation; only gentle hums of satisfaction escape from the man's lips.

The hooded molester stops as he works his way down toward the Twink's hidden prize and begins sucking on the poor boy's sweet supple nipples. Despite a furious desire to escape, the Masked Twink remains powerless to act.

"Get The Fuck Off Me!!" he roars in his mind, but not a word escapes from his lips. His body remains limp and paralyzed.

As the hooded man continues to suckle on the Masked Twink's nipples, his hairy hand slowly glides down the length of the boy's abdomen; tickling and caressing his abs before slipping down inside of the Twink's cotton pouch. There the man begins to fondle the hot twink's thick manhood from beneath the skimpy cloth. MT moans with reluctance. 

"Fuck! No! Stop!" he thinks to himself, but the sensation of begrudging pleasure is sent coursing through him.

Then, as though things weren't queer enough, the Masked Twink soon finds that although he cannot move of his own volition, the hooded man has the ability to re-position him to his liking; for the hooded man soon makes MT sit up on his knees; gently guiding him with his hands.

"What the fuck is going on here, man?! I'm like a living manikin to this freak!" MT thinks to himself.

The Masked Twink now sits submissively upon his knees atop the altar anxiously awaiting whatever perverted designs the hooded cult has in store for him. With MT's hands clasped behind his back, the hooded man continues caressing his young slender body; running his hands all up and down the Twink's chest and backside. It doesn't take long for the creepy pervert to focus in on the young detective's tight round hairless ass. With many a satisfied hum, the man thoroughly feels up the Twink's buttocks; squeezing and slapping them with zeal. 

"Get Your Hand Off My Ass, You Fuck!" MT thinks, still unable to speak.

The hooded man makes the Twink bend over, planting his face down against the altar, presenting his hot young ass for all to see. The man takes both of his thick heavy hands and spreads the Masked Twink's fleshy cheeks wide as though the boy's ass were the Red Sea. After that the man in the hood begins playfully spanking the Twink's hot naked bum as his followers look on and chuckle at the young hero's shameful humiliation. Unable to move or cry out, the Masked Twink screams inside his head, 

"AAUGHH!! FUCK YOU! YOU FUCK!!!"

The humiliation only grows worse however for soon MT feels the sensation of something wet and wriggly worming its way into his anus. It is the hooded man's tongue! The Masked Twink is getting tongue-fucked by some creepy old fuckin' cult leader!

"Goddamnit! STOP!!!" the Twink wants to cry, but no words can escape his lips.

Worse still the situation grows when the rest of the congregation joins in; tonguing the young twink's butthole like the crack of his ass was coated in caramel and honey.

After several minutes of having his salad tossed by the entire cult, the hooded man makes the Masked Twink sit back up upon his knees once more, then almost immediately goes right back to suckling his nipples and fondling his manhood from inside his jockstrap. Soon another member of the cult comes over and begins caressing the masked boy's lean slender body. 

"Ah, Fuck! I'm about to get gang-raped again?!" MT thinks in his head as he remembers all the previous times like this.

Many long uneasy minutes pass where the masked boy can do nothing, but accept the warm caress of their molesting touch. Then, without a shred of warning, both men grab separate sides of the Masked Twink's pure-white jockstrap and rip it apart exposing the boy's massive "man-sword" for all to marvel. The cocky hero sits now feeling completely exposed; left to feel awfully humble at this humiliating exhibition.

The men proceed to play around with his dick and balls: fondling, stroking, and smacking them for a long time. They make him lay back down upon the altar where they continue caressing every inch of his hot young body. Soon however, they return to focusing most of their attention on the twink's sizable cock and balls: fondling them, stroking them, slapping them, and squeezing them with an almost childish mirth. As this continues the other cult members soon join in; taking turns to feel the sleek slender build of the enigmatic Masked Twink. All this fondling and groping eventually gives way to them all taking turns sucking and lapping on his dick and balls; each and every last one of them. They all get a taste of the Twink's virile loins. MT is powerless to stop them, but the truth is he doesn't completely want to. Somewhere in the back of his mind, through resistance and pride, he comes to find that he is actually starting to enjoy it all. 

"This doesn't feel too bad actually." he says to himself as he slowly slips into an orgasmic trance.

The scene has all but nearly evolved into a full-blown orgy. A gang-bang of groping hands and lustful tongues. It is like a feast, with MT as the main course. Some of the men move down to his feet and begin licking his toes, while others continue sucking on his now fully engorged schlong. The hooded men eventually spread the Masked Twink out upon the altar like a gingerbread man. 

"What are they doing to me? Why can't I move?!" MT continues to think to himself overcome by a mix of fear and ecstasy.

The hooded men proceed to kiss and lick the Masked Twink all over his lean black body as the boy remains motionless and mute. After a time, they take out bottles of oil from beneath the altar and proceed to anoint his entire body from head to toe. They all take turns oiling up and stroking the Masked Twink's precious prized cock. While one is jerking him off the others continue caressing the rest of his body until their turn has come. All resistance has left the young hero. The Masked Twink gives himself over completely; surrendering his mind and soul to this profane state of carnal ecstasy.

The men sit the young spy back up on his knees again; this time holding his hands behind his head. More and more oil is spread like butter across his caramel-colored skin. So much oil coats his body now until every inch of him shines as though he were made of polished bronze. You could blind yourself off the sheen from his ass! Some of the men playfully squeeze and slap the masked boy's tight buns while the rest take turns stroking his cock and tugging on his balls. They guide MT to stand up atop the altar and with their lustful greedy hands they rub more oil up and down his legs as they continue to feel up his glistening bum and playfully swat his big dick back and forth. The Masked Twink's oily precum sloshes to and fro as his hard cock swings about. This goes on for almost ten whole minutes before they lay him back down flat upon the altar. One of the hooded men holds the sides of MT's head while another slowly drips scalding-hot wax down onto his chest and stomach. It's here that the Masked Twink finds that while he can neither move nor speak he can still apparently flinch and whimper. 

Soon things once again take an unexpected turn when one of the hooded men de-robes revealing himself to be a very young, very handsome man; by appearances, no older than MT himself. Given the circumstances, MT reasonably assumes him to be an apprentice or acolyte. The young man climbs up on top of the altar, and lies atop the Masked Twink's motionless naked body. The apprentice then proceeds to make out with the Twink as the other hooded men masturbate to the sight of them. The minutes drag slowly on as the young apprentice continues to passionately make out with the young black twink; dry-humping his crotch as he pushes his tongue further and further toward the back of MT's throat. MT can feel the young man's hard dick rubbing against his abdominis, lubing his smooth sweaty oiled flesh with precum from his cockhead. One by one, the hooded men begin to climax to the sensual scene; each one depositing their semen into an ornate silver chalice; for some arcane purpose yet to be revealed.

Many more long minutes pass before the young apprentice moves himself forward; re-positioning his crotch over the Masked Twink's face as he proceeds to dry-hump it. MT can feel the man's hard slender cock sliding up and down the front of his face from his chin to his temple. He can smell and taste the sweat from the apprentice's balls as they are dragged over his nose and lips. The hot sticky precum from the head of the young man's cock seeps everywhere; coating his lips and flooding his nostrils. Finally, after what seems like forever, the apprentice straddles the Twink's chest and starts to jerk off with the head of his cock pointed directly over MT's face. The tip points down right toward the young spy's mouth. 

The leader of the cult quickly comes over to give his apprentice a helping hand. With one hand he jerks off his assistant, and with the other he pries open MT's mouth so as to receive the young man's seed, then after several more minutes the apprentice shoots his hefty load straight into MT's gaping hole. He can taste the salty semen spreading all over his tongue and rushing towards the back of his throat. MT wants to believe that he is disgusted by this vulgar violation, but the truth is that he's become enthralled and desires even more.

Master and apprentice playfully tease the Masked Twink for a while; pinching his nipples and smacking his face. Unable to fight back and completely entranced, MT just lies there and takes it like the slutty little bitch he is. The two men make him stand on all fours atop the altar. While in this position, one man jerks him off while the other one spanks him soundly on the ass. It's all nearly too much for the masked boy to handle. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, they make the Masked Twink sit up once again upon his knees. The naked apprentice holds MT in a headlock from behind while his master proceeds to vigorously stroke the hero's cock whilst holding the silver chalice beneath his tip.

At long last, after almost two hours of non-consensual ritual sex, the Masked Twink's face starts to contort as he finally prepares to cum. Loud moans emanate from the masked boy's lips before hot thick squirts of semen explode from his cockhead right into the chalice. The Masked Twink convulses and twitches for several minutes as the cult leader carefully squeezes out every last drop. Once he is done, his young apprentice happily tosses the Twink off the side of the altar letting his limp body hit the floor with a thud. The hooded men all smile and laugh at this before the skyclad lad stoops down and lifts MT up onto all fours. The apprentice leads MT along like a mangy dog guiding him over to a septagram etched onto the floor. The cult leader walks in front of them carrying the silver chalice in his hands. 

With little effort at all the young apprentice forces the Masked Twink to sit up on his knees within the circle. The apprentice holds back the young detective's head so that his eyes are staring straight up toward the ceiling. After a few seconds, an unnerving sound fills the air. There comes the quick noise of fabric being ripped and torn; after which MT's mask and skullcap drop to the floor beside his knees. The greatest disgrace has come to pass..the Masked Twink has been unmasked. The exposed twink sits there naked, afraid, humiliated, and helpless. A flurry of panicked thoughts race through MT's head, but soon all attention shifts to the leader of the cult, Robert Eldrick, standing over him with the silver chalice in hand. MT's eyes fall upon the polished sheen of the chalice as it is slowly lowered down over him. The ornate cup tilts more and more until finally the warm salty splooge from the cult starts to ooze out and rains down from the cup's gleaming rim. The slimy splooge oozes down and coats MT's face in a creamy film. The copious collection of semen runs down the young twink's neck and glides down over his smooth sweaty chest. Try though he may to keep his mouth closed, MT cannot keep some of the pungent man-juices from seeping past his trembling lips and into his mouth. The taste and smell of all that rank male sperm is overwhelming and goes straight to MT's head.

As the Twink continues to sit there in shame the hooded cultists begin to chant a series of words in a strange foreign language, and as they do an unearthly dark vortex gradually opens up overhead. With his cum soaked face still tilted upward, MT's frightened eyes bear witness as a white wispy worm the size of a boa constrictor suddenly emerges from the vortex. The alien creature quickly swoops down propelling itself right toward MT's limp immobile body. To his horror he watches as the creature enters him; sliding into his flesh through the urethra of his still stiff cock.

"Holy Fuck! NO!" MT cries inside his head, but his panicked thoughts offer no protection from what is to come.

Almost instantly afterward, MT's body begins to convulse and he soon finds himself flailing wildly upon the floor. The cultist watch with anxious curiosity to see just what travesty their profane actions have wrought. Like a man having a seizure the young spy tosses, kicks, and hurls himself about until his body finally comes to a dead stop, and the unmasked Masked Twink lies lifeless on the floor. The cultist all close in around the young man's body before MT's eyes pop open suddenly. The robed men back away as the youth's slender body slowly rises from the floor like a snake out of the tall grass. The Twink's glassy eyes then start to glow pale white as the spirit at last seizes full control of him. The Masked Twink is no more. His soul is imprisoned, his mind is enslaved, and his body is not more than a meat suit for this unholy demon from the shadowy realms beyond this earthly sphere. Now, as the Masked Twink (naked and unmasked) walks back over toward the arcane altar, one must wonder if this is truly the end of the Masked Twink, or is this horrible nightmare simply the beginning.

The End...?