the sacrament 

It’s that time again. I can smell the excitement in the air,  can feel it deep in my marrows. My arms grip the steering wheel tighter as I navigate the pothole ridden road,  driving slowly but surely to my temple. 

Damn. It’s been so long. So so long! 

 I park the vehicle in front of the cabin,  step out and walk over to the passenger’s side,  opening the door like the gentleman I am. The gentleman my mother taught me to be. 

The raven haired girl was still asleep, her not so bountiful bossom heaving up and down gently as she breathed. 

My God. She’s so beautiful! Like an angel! 

I hope I didn’t give her too much.

I reach out and rub at the tiny red dot on her ivory colored skin,  the spot where I had lovingly inserted the needle deep into her neck. 

She lets out a slight noise,  her body reacting to my loving touch. But she doesn’t wake up as I tenderly carry her into the cabin,  into my temple. 

Do this as often as you can, in remembrance of me. 


Everything is set. Even though it has been a while, I still remember the routine. 

The bulb barely illuminates the room, its dim light reflecting on the gold plated pieces of metal carefully arranged on the edge of the altar. 

The smell of burning incense fills the air,  its thick smoke settling on my skin, filling my lungs with its sweet smell everytime I breathe in. 

I step forward to the altar, kneel down and say a prayer, the prayer,  just like she taught me. 

Do this as often as you can, in remembrance of me. 

I stand up and look down on the offering. Her clear skin still shone under the pale light. I can see the reddish bruises beginning to form on her arms and feet where I had tied her firmly on the altar. 

She’s so beautiful. And she looks just like you.

I break open the smelling salts and place them under her nose,  waking her up. Her eyes are cloudy at first,  trying to take in her environment. She looks at me and her eyes start to widen. 

I can see the fear in her eyes. I love it! 

She opens her mouth, about to scream. 

“There’s no need for that. You’ll just be wasting your time. We are in the middle of nowhere. And my temple is well soundproofed”

She closes her mouth. Deep down she knows what I’m saying is true.

“Please. Just let me go. I won’t say anything I promise”

I ignore her, walking over to pick up the chalice filled with the red liquid, prepared just the way she taught me. 

“Drink this”.

“What is it?”

I’m starting to get impatient. 

“Drink it!”


The red liquid is starting to kick in. The offering is still tied to the altar, her nipples erect even in the smoke filled heat of the room. 

I take off my robe, then kneel before her,  my face inbetween her thighs. 

She smells divine! 

I still out my tongue, slowly flicking away, slight, deliberate licks,  just the way she taught me. 

The offering starts to wiggle, bucking her hips, trying to push me away. She unconsciously lets out a slight moan, and her hips stop bucking. She moans again, and this time her hips tighten,  squeezing my head, pushing my tongue deeper in. The red liquid is kicking in. 

The offering moans again “don’t stop”

I continue, tasting, kissing, flicking, enjoying the richness that is her, reveling in it, just the way she taught me. 

Do this as often as you can, in remembrance of me. 

I can feel her reaching her peak. I hold her hips tight, my nails digging into her buttocks. I keep on licking, not stopping, not even when the offering screams out in ecstasy, her juices slathered all over my face.

Just the way mother taught me. 

I stand up, looking down on the offering. Her eyes are still closed, her chest heaving up and down, her body still having spasms from the orgasm. 

I wish you were here mama. I wish you were still with me. I promise to always continue what you taught me, how you taught me. I swear. 

I pick up the gold plated piece of metal, its sharp edge glistening under the dim light. 

The offering opens her eyes.

“Oh my God, that was wonder…..”

She stops abruptly as soon as she sees the gold plated knife. 

Her eyes widen again in fear. 

“What are you doing?”

I ignore her, reciting the words,  just the way mother taught me 

“And when he was done he looked up and gave thanks, thankful for the opportunity to eat something so divine. And thankful because he knew he would partake in more meals like this”

I lick my lips. This was usually the part where mother spoke. The part where she usually kissed me, tasting the offering off my lips. 

Do this as often as you can, in remembrance of me. 

I wipe the tear away from my eye. 

I wish you were here mother. 

I walk up to the offering, my hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of the gold plated knife. 

I stare into it’s eyes. I can see her fear. I place the tip of the knife on her thigh. A red spot appears there,  slowing dripping down, forming a dark rivulet on her perfect ivory skin. 

Do this as often as you can, in remembrance of me. 

I push the knife in deeper. 

It was time for a different kind of screaming. 


Happy birthday Sami Sam! [silver & gold have I none….  ?]

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