I woke up that break of day like it was any early break of the day. Brushed my teeth. Brushed my hair before taking an extra-long shower, like I do when I have a late shift at the clinic. Then I threw on a dyad of denim and a loosen go t-shirt before heading out for the day. I wouldn't say I was going to work. I don't really piece of work. I'm an organizer. I organize group get together. Mostly mathematical group of sex addicts or bdsm enthusiasts. Lately I'd been working for this new radical calling themselves"The shaver of the Fallen."I didn't ask what kind of group they were. All I knew was they needed a dark, secluded"keep"for their meetings.

I couldn't really tell exactly what character of group they were by the items they were asking me to set up in their"dungeon."They were either a bdsm"household"( a large radical of people into bdsm that did not openly assume new members ) or they were a cult…which I try to avoid that at all costs because the last religious cult I dealt with tried to get me to join in on their drunken revelry to cite their"dark schoolmaster"or whatever. Despite the fact that I couldn't tell what they were, I was glad that they hired me. They were paying me triple my pattern fee per day for moving all of their shit into the dungeon I had procured for them.

The way was basically an old turkey tax shelter, 2 stories underground ( because just any old basement wouldn't do ) with a small servicing elevator that was apparently built by the fucking Mayan out of wood and counterbalanced with boulder. Goddamn that thing was fucking slow…anyway I digress. I had to get 2 of my parttime assist to act full time to get all of their Irish bull through that elevator and into the shelter. Most of the stuff was diminished enough to get down the elevator either in the boxes they came in or fully assembled. After we got them downstairs, we set them up in the exact…EXACT…spot we were asked to put them. Otherwise, I wouldn't get this huge bonus they promised me after the job was done.

It took us 2 daytime to set up all of the shit they had given up. It seemed like a clustering of formula bdsm club shit. St. Andrew's crosse, Burgundy wine drapes, we had to build a potty seat and a political platform in front of it. All signs pointed to bdsm cabaret, and a very upscale one at that. Everything was really ornate. Drawings on the crosses and stage, the commode had gold inlays. Fancy shit.

After all was set up, I had about 2 60 minutes to get the head people of the club to come in and make believe for sure everything was to their gratification. I gave them a phone call once we were done and they arrived eerily soon after I hung up the phone with them. The man and cleaning woman walked in were beautiful…and I'm all for the ma'am. The man had a Bourgogne shirt with a tight set of leather trouser. The fop was built too. Like a brick business firm. And the adult female hanging on his arm was a bombshell. She had jet Joseph Black curly hair with a huge dyad of mammilla and an ass that you could use as table. I found myself getting hard just looking at her.

I showed them the study we did for them and they seemed impressed."Where are the people who helped you set all of this up,"asked the cleaning lady."We would want to thank them for the outstanding oeuvre they've done here as well and give way them a tip for working so diligently over the past few days with you."

I had already sent them dwelling house for the day, but at the kickoff reference of a tip, the shooting back to the site without 2d mentation. I had this one in the bag. I was going to go to the bank on this one. I might even be able to enlarge my business. That's all that kept running through my nous. Then the guy pulled me off to the face and started asking me all these questions. What I thought we were doing, what we thought of the art and the equipment we had strung up, if we had done work like this before. I answered honestly. I didn't think anything bad would fall of it. That is apparently where I was suddenly wrong. He leaned in closing to ask me something"secretly"and placed his paw on the backbone of my neck. He said,"I'm really sorry about the difficulty, but we can't have anything go ill-timed tonight."I nodded in agreement. Then I felt a twinge of something hitting me in the stomach. A syringe. My abs felt like they were on fire, then I didn't feeling anything.

I remember a few snipits of the adjacent few hour. All weird shit. People with masquerade. masses fucking. people cutting one another and licking the bloodline. A single mentation ran through my head for hours."Please, for the passion of God, don't let these be the stupid masses who think they're vampires."That Lapplander thought over and over for what seemed like an eternity. I smelled incense and either exertion or fuck-juices…or both. Probably both. I must have been there for hours.

When I finally came to my signified, I realized exactly what was going on…CULT…fucking CULT. I was hanging off of a St. Saint Andrew the Apostle's crossbreeding with my shirt ripped off halfway and a splitting headache. I saw my 2 assistant on crossbreed on either incline of me. They were both awaken looking scared shitless."What happened ?"I asked. They explained to me everything that they had seen. The sex, the whipping, the rituals. All of it…well all they could remember."Hey !"I called out."Hey fuckers !"

The way went mum. All optic, or oculus that weren't either blindfolded or tied in the opposite commission, were now on me."Let us go !"I yelled at the man I had met before.

He spoke to me in a deep voice."But you've only just woken up. Why would you require to leave ? We have programme for you. Grand plans that I'm sure you will need to see and be a part of."

"I have my own architectural plan. I don't need you to tell me what I would care to be component of."I had hoped a voiced touch would get us out of this predicament we were in."Just let us go and you can go along with your love fest."

"I'm afraid I can't do that untested man. You've seen too very much. You know too much. All of you do."

"We don't know shit !"cried out Gary, one of my help."Just let us go man. I just want to go home."He began to cry. He was afraid.

"Oh no,"said the drawing card."Don't cry."He jumped off of his pot chairman and hovered over to the boy's English, his now dressed figure, floating across the floor. He grabbed the boy's chained arm and stroked it gently."Why are you crying ? If only you could see what is ahead. What you will suit. There is no indigence to fear. trust us. We will pass you to happiness and a world where you will feel no pain."He smiled at him and patted him on the brain, then he turned to me and whispered in my ear,"I hate to lie to the boy…but I want him calm for now…you are the sole one who is getting out of this with your life."

I then felt a cocksucker in my stomach and a electrocution sensation…another fucking needle. I felt myself fading. Everything went dark. This was going to be a long night…and I don't know if I was going to live it .