I woke up that morning like it was any other sunup. Brushed my teeth. Brushed my hair before taking an extra-long exhibitioner, like I do when I have a late shift at the clinic. Then I threw on a distich of blue jean and a loose fitting tee shirt before heading out for the day. I wouldn't say I was going to work. I don't really work. I'm an organizer. I organize group meetings. Mostly radical of sex addicts or bdsm fancier. Lately I'd been working for this new grouping calling themselves"The Children of the Fallen."I didn't ask what form of group they were. All I knew was they needed a darkness, secluded"donjon"for their meetings.

I couldn't really tell exactly what type of grouping they were by the token they were asking me to set up in their"dungeon."They were either a bdsm"household"( a large radical of citizenry into bdsm that did not openly accept new members ) or they were a cult…which I try to avoid that at all costs because the last cult I dealt with tried to get me to link up in on their orgy to summon their"dark master"or whatever. Despite the fact that I couldn't tell what they were, I was happy that they hired me. They were paying me triple my rule fee per day for moving all of their shit into the donjon I had procured for them.

The way was basically an old bomb tax shelter, 2 stories underground ( because just any old basement wouldn't do ) with a small service of process lift that was apparently built by the fucking Mayan out of wood and counterbalanced with boulders. Goddamn that thing was fucking slow…anyway I digress. I had to get 2 of my part-time assistances to turn entire meter to get all of their shit through that lift and into the shelter. most of the stuff and nonsense was minor 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 immense bonus they promised me after the job was done.

It took us 2 days to set up all of the shit they had given up. It seemed like a bunch of normal bdsm club shit. St. Andrew's crosses, burgundy drapes, we had to build a throne seat and a platform in battlefront of it. All polarity pointed to bdsm gild, and a very upscale one at that. Everything was really flowery. lottery on the mark and stage, the potty had gold inlays. fantasy shit.

After all was set up, I had about 2 hr to get the head people of the club to make out in and make sure everything was to their satisfaction. 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 woman walked in were beautiful…and I'm all for the lady. The man had a burgundy shirt with a wet set of leather pants. The sheik was built too. Like a brick firm. And the woman hanging on his arm was a thunderclap. She had jet mordant curly hair with a immense pair of tits and an ass that you could use as table. I found myself getting arduous just looking at her.

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

I had already sent them nursing home for the day, but at the first mention of a tip, the blastoff back to the site without second base thought. I had this one in the bag. I was going to go to the bank on this one. I might even be able to dilate my business. That's all that kept running through my creative thinker. Then the guy pulled me off to the slope and started asking me all these interrogative sentence. What I thought we were doing, what we thought of the artwork 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 come of it. That is apparently where I was dead wrong. He leaned in close to ask me something"secretly"and placed his hand on the vertebral column of my cervix. He said,"I'm really sorry about the trouble, but we can't have anything go legal injury tonight."I nodded in agreement. Then I felt a knife thrust of something hitting me in the stomach. A syringe. My abs felt like they were on fire, then I didn't feel anything.

I remember a few snipits of the next few 60 minutes. All Wyrd hoot. hoi polloi with masks. mass fucking. People cutting one another and licking the blood. A single mentation ran through my read/write head for hours."Please, for the love life of God, don't let these be the pillock people who think they're vampires."That like thought over and over for what seemed like an eternity. I smelled incense and either sweat or fuck-juices…or both. Probably both. I must have been there for hours.

When I finally came to my senses, I realized exactly what was going on…CULT…fucking cult. I was hanging off of a St. St. Andrew's cross with my shirt ripped off halfway and a splitting headache. I saw my 2 assistants on crown of thorns on either side of me. They were both awake looking scared shitless."What happened ?"I asked. They explained to me everything that they had seen. The sex, the whipping, the rite. All of it…well all they could remember."Hey !"I called out."Hey fuckers !"

The room went silent. All eyes, or eyes that weren't either blindfolded or tied in the diametric focusing, were now on me."Let us go !"I yelled at the man I had met before.

He spoke to me in a mystifying vocalism."But you've only just woken up. Why would you want to depart ? We have plans for you. Grand plans that I'm sure you will desire to see and be a part of."

"I have my own design. I don't need you to tell apart me what I would care to be part of."I had hoped a flabby sense of touch would get us out of this predicament we were in."Just let us go and you can continue with your make out fest."

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

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

"Oh no,"said the leader."Don't cry."He jumped off of his can chairman and hovered over to the boy's English, his now robed material body, floating across the story. 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 turn. There is no need to dread. trustfulness us. We will lead you to happiness and a world where you will finger no pain."He smiled at him and patted him on the head, 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 entirely one who is getting out of this with your life."

I then felt a prick in my stomach and a burning at the stake sensation…another fucking goad. 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 hold up it .